#which will maybe pay for dinner and breakfast

[hotchocolateandpillowforts]

The husband and I have one night in this amazing hotel that he booked to celebrate my birthday. We both work on the actual day and today's the only day we have off together between now and then.

#early birthday celebrations #the joule in downtown Dallas is ridiculous #but we also got upgraded because it's my birthday #we also have a $100 hotel credit and $60 breakfast credit for booking with our travel card #which will maybe pay for dinner and breakfast #and we're going to a museum in the morning and using the pool #this is the first time I've ever requested time off to celebrate my birthday #too many tags

[multific]

Love Potion

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: Mattheo always looked at you in a certain way.

His eyes always followed your every move.

You noticed it very early on just how much attention he was paying to you.

His eyes followed you everywhere.

No matter the place, time or occasion.

Let it be class or breakfast or lunch or dinner.

He always had an eye on you.

And you actually didn’t mind.

Mattheo is a very handsome guy. Even if everyone and even your instincts warned you about him, there was still something.

Something which kept you interested.

You felt a pull towards him.

A pull you never acted on.

So, it was mostly longing looks exchanged between you two, nothing more. 

One evening, you were having dinner with your friends.

Hermione talked about Ron and how stupid he was. Then you grabbed a bonbon and popped it into your mouth.

“Y/N NO!” you heard someone say but it was too late.

Amortentia.

Or as they called it, love potion. 

The entire room smelled like him. Amortentia tends to smell like the person you are in love with, you didn’t even realise. 

You were blind.

The room smelled like smoke, honey and wood.

You wanted to see him, kiss him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to eat it!” said one of the Hufflepuffs. “I was meant to prank my roommate!” 

While everyone was talking, you were quick to run off into the backyard of the school.

You had a pretty good idea of where to find Mattheo.

And surely enough, you found him by the trees smoking.

“RIDDLE!” you yelled, making him flinch and almost drop his cigarette.

“Y/N?”

“Kiss me! RIGHT NOW!”

“Are you drunk?”

“Just in love, come on.” you ran over to him, almost making him trip as you came in contact with him.

He grabbed you to save you from falling and this is when he noticed your eyes.

“Were you given something?”

“All I feel is looooove.” you said and smiled.

Mattheo noticed Hermione from the corner of his eyes.

“What happened to her?”

“A Hufflepuff gave her Amortentia.” she explained as she grabbed your hand and began to pull you back.

“Love potion? Why?”

“Forget this happened Riddle!” Hermione yelled back at Mattheo as you waved to him.

“Byeeee Matty!” he lifted his hand and gave you a small wave back. He was utterly confused.

—

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THAT!” you yelled into your pillow once the potion wore off. “Why didn’t you stop me?!”

“I tried!” said Hermione.

“I want to die. I’m so embarrassed. At LEAST he was alone! Imagine if I did that in front of the school!”

“Well… on our way back to our rooms… you kinda… just a tiny little bit yelled in front of everyone passing by that Mattheo is yours and you will fight for your true love… kinda.”

“Oh. My. Fucking. God. No.” you shook your head but she nodded. “NO. PLEASE NO.”

“And… maybe… kinda… The Slytherins were also there? Maybe?”

“I am jumping out the window,” you said as you stood up and walked towards the window, Hermione grabbed your hand and pulled you back. “I want to die, please. This is so embarrassing!”

“The thing is that almost everyone like cheered for you. Malfoy even wanted to give you a high-five for being so brave. I thought he was being sarcastic, but he was for real. Then Theodore came up and said ‘Go get him, Tiger’ They were all cheering you on.”

“So, I’m the laughingstock of the entire school. Lovely.”

You fell back into your bed, face into the pillow. How will you face everyone tomorrow?

—

 “Mattheo Riddle! The lucky guy!” said Theodore as he hit Mattheo in the shoulder. “Having one of the prettiest girl scream and declare her love for you. Lucky you!” Mattheo rolled his eyes at his friend.

Although he couldn’t sleep one bit for the entire night, his mind was way too busy.

“It was only a prank.” Mattheo said. It was the only logical explanation.

“Nope. You know Angie? The Hufflepuff girl? Nevermind… Apparently, she made some chocolate for her friend as a prank, but Y/N ended up eating one and it had Amortentia in it.” Mattheo looked at Theodore, trying to see if his friend was lying but he wasn’t.

“And how do you know that?”

“Angie told her friends and I heard it. They didn’t realize I was standing there. But lucky you, having a girlfriend! Don’t fuck it up tho! Or I might steal her.”

“Piss off.” Theodore laughed as they both entered the class.

Mattheo’s eyes immediately locked with yours. You looked scared as you looked away. He could only imagine how you were feeling.

But he was just as confused and embarrassed.

After classes, you wanted nothing more than to run back to your room and hide from everyone.

No one said a thing. But the looks they gave you, said it all.

You just wanted to get out.

You made it to the hallways when someone behind you called your name.

It was Mattheo, your eyes widened as you quickly darted into the girl’s bathroom.

“Y/N, I just want to talk.”

“Look I’m sorry what happened okay?! Please just forget it.”

Then he opened the door and came into the bathroom as you back away and walked into the sinks. 

“This is the girl’s bathroom what are you doing?”

“I need to know if, what you said is true. Did you mean any of it or was it the potion?”

“I-I.” you wanted to lie, you wish you were a better liar. All you could do was listen to your heart hammer in your chest. 

“So it’s true. What you said is all true… you do lo-”

“OKAY now, please, I’m embarrassed enough, I do not need your rejection, Riddle. Please can you just leave me alone?” you wanted to go into a stall and lock yourself for eternity.

“I thought you hated me.” he suddenly said and you looked at him, shocked. “I was watching you and… you always avoided my looks. Okay, not always but many times.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Just agree to grab some butterbeer with me. That could be a start.”

“What?” you were so confused.

“I’m asking you on a date.”

“You are asking me on a date?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” he asked as you turned your body back towards him.

“I thought you didn’t do… dates.” you sounded very nice, you worded it even more nicely.

“I don’t. But with you, I will.”

“So, what? You… like me too? After what I said and did yesterday?”

“It was very cute.”

“Cute? Which part exactly? When I yelled at you to kiss me or when I swore to kill whoever dares to go close to you?”

“Exactly.” he smirked. “I will wait for you, get ready for our date. An hour? Is that enough?”

“Okay. An hour.” he nodded and turned to leave.

You stood there, stunned when a voice behind you made you jump.

“How romantic!”

“Myrtle!”

“You have a date! Go get ready!” she yelled and you listened.

You got ready relatively quickly.

You debated not going, then you decided to give it a try and go.

Then, as you waited by the gates you were prepared for Mattheo not showing up.

Maybe this was his way of repaying you for embarrassing him?

But, he did show up. He did take you out to eat and drink and you did have a good time.

He did walk you back to your dorm and placed a small kiss on your cheek as a goodbye.

He did all that.

And if you only knew it would take a small amount of love potion for you to finally be with him, you would have eaten that piece of chocolate a long time ago. 

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#mattheo riddle #slytherin boys #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x fem reader #mattheo riddle x female reader #mattheo riddle imagines #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #slytherin x reader

[cupid-styles]

late night talking

in which harry’s quiet, shy, and always sends y/n tips during her cam streams. or: nerdrry x cam girl y/n

word count: 5.9k (wanted to get this out before christmas so it’s a bit on the shorter side than my other longer fics!!)

content warnings: sexual content (y/n is a cam girl soooooo voyeurism/exhibitionism is implied), smut (mutual masturbation, dirty talk/sexting, daddy kink, slight dom/sub dynamics)

please lmk if you’d want a part two for these cuties !

part two here

. . .

On a day-to-day, this is how Y/N typically spends her time:

She wakes up and throws herself in the shower with her eyes half shut. She eats some type of sustenance for breakfast, whether it be a granola bar or a warranted effort at some overnight chia seed concoction, and then heads to her main job, where her boss, Sam, has half her experience and somehow gets paid double her salary.

She does whatever's asked of her all day because she went to school for graphic design and she quite likes it, but only when Sam isn't up her ass, asking her to do tasks he's too lazy to do. At 5 pm on the dot, Sam is usually trying to get her to stay late but she's already on her way out the door. When she gets home, she forces down another quick meal — sometimes it's one of those frozen, premade things, other times she has the energy to make a veggie pasta or stir fry — pulls on a lingerie set, and sits on her cam site, where she strips and touches herself for money from strangers. 

Her cam streams are her favorite part of her day.

She guesses she's some type of exhibitionist if she enjoys getting off in front of people she doesn't know, but it's a win-win considering they're voyeurs, too. Plus, when you put monetary tips on top of it — well, Y/N can't really complain. 

She hides her face because her worst nightmare is her family finding out (that just sounds like a nightmare of a conversation to have with her parents), but she does have a few regular customers that come to most, if not all of her streams, are consistent tippers, and are always sweet to her. They ask about how she's doing and are polite in their requests, typically following them up with some sort of financial compensation so she has a reason to go through with it. It's not a bad deal at all — she enjoys her little community and the whole double life thing isn't the worst thing in the world. 

Y/N's been doing this for about a year, so she's gotten pretty familiar with the types of customers that come through her stream, but there's one in particular — fleetwoodlondon — that somehow still has her stumped. 

The thing is, this fleetwoodlondon person is far too nice. That's what confuses her the most. He (and she assumes it's a guy, because she doubts any woman would do this type of thing, but maybe she's just stereotyping) sends her tips for nothing in exchange, always tacking a bit more on when she's mentioned that she's had a rough day or she hasn't had a chance to eat dinner yet. She's messaged him privately, too, thanking him for his generosity and asking if he wants anything special in return, but he always says the same thing: No, that's alright. Thank you for the offer. Have a good night. x

There's a part of her that feels like it's bazaar, but there's a larger portion that's fascinated by him. She wants to know why he does what he does, why he feels that she's special enough to even do this in the first place. 

It's a shame he's rarely willing to exchange more than 10 words with her. 

. . .

Harry's days usually go like this:

Wake up, do some yoga or meditation, and log onto work. He works from home as a computer engineer for some large company that, if he's being honest, he doesn't really know a ton about, but they pay him extremely well and let him stay home all day, so it evens out. He's a diligent, hard worker on a small team of other shy, quiet people, so meetings are few and far between. On the occasion where he does have to present something a larger group, he'll stumble and stutter his way through a PowerPoint slideshow and take a puff of his asthma inhaler the second he's done. 

When work is over, he hangs out with his cat, Beatrice, cooks them a yummy, healthy dinner, and watches TV with her. At the top of the 7 pm hour, he shuffles Beatrice off to his bedroom because he doesn't want her to see how her dad spends his free time: Watching a girl he doesn't know on a dodgy cam site, getting his rocks off, and sending her a large tip at the end of the night. 

The first time he stumbled across her stream, he felt weird about it. It was semi-dystopian to watch someone in this way, knowing she was doing it live somewhere in the world. But she seemed to enjoy it and she had a decent crowd of subscribers and tippers in the chat, so it made him feel better when he eventually gave into his own temptation, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of his sweats and fisting his cock the way she'd been encouraging her viewers to do. And the thing is, he never planned to attend another show — he assumed he'd just go on his merry way and that was the end of it.

But he couldn't stop thinking about her.

The softness of her skin, the lacy set that covered her most intimate parts, the giggles and teasing comments that fell from her plushy lips. He couldn't see any other parts of her face, but she had a pretty voice, and he just knew she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever see. 

And, in complete honesty, he really loved when she shared small details about her life. It wasn't in a creepy way — he saw the way commenters replied in her chat and it made his stomach turn — but it was just... nice to get a peek into her life outside of this site, where Harry had to click out of porn pop-ups and erectile dysfunction ads every 5 minutes. 

Hearing that she saw a cute dog on her way home from work or she got a free cookie with her lunch today was what reminded him that she was just another human, doing her best, the same way he was. And maybe it was true that he could never get her to pay attention to him in real life, but at least on this platform, he stood a chance. 

Harry had more money than he knew what to do with. He lived a comfortable life, he didn't have a partner or kids, and his savings account was plentiful. If he sent moan-a-lisa (the first time he read her username, he did smirk at the playful pun) a decent tip at the end of the night, he wouldn't feel bad about it. His money could be going to worse places.

It was only when she started to message him privately that he started to panic. 

About once a week, she would thank him profusely and ask if he wanted something in return — a custom video, pictures, even a phone call. But when he thought about it, he was just too anxious and scared — he felt like maybe he portrayed a slightly cool persona online, but if that wall got broken down, she'd see that he was lame. A computer nerd that stayed home all day and spent his money on a girl he'd never know in real life.

At least at a distance, she might at least think he's nice.

. . .

"Alright cuties, thank you so much for joining me tonight!"

Y/N watches as the chat floods with a variety of responses to her ending the stream: Some were kind (thank you for spending ur time w us!!!! have a good night!), others were sad and slightly parasocial (nooooo :( I'll miss u so much baby don't go), while the slight minority were just plain mean (stupid bitch u didn't even do anal 2nite). 

"I'll be back tomorrow at the same time, 7 pm eastern standard," she says with a toothy grin. She waves them a goodbye, clicks the "end live" button, and lets out a sigh of relief when her camera finally shuts off. Her show ended up being nearly four hours long tonight and she could feel a warm bubble bath calling her name. 

As she begins her post-streaming routine of grabbing a snack, starting her bath, and peeling the lingerie set off her body, she hears her phone go off. Almost like clockwork. 

She grabs it and glances down at the notification. Unsurprised, her eyes scan over the message: fleetwoodlondon sent you $300!

Rolling her lips into her mouth, she clicks on it and opens the app. Immediately, she thumbs over to their private conversation, where she types out a message. 

moan-a-lisa: please tell me you've reconsidered and are willing to let me doing something in return for all these tips.

As she's tossing her peach-toned lace set in the hamper, her phone dings again. She already knows his response before she even reads it. 

fleetwoodlondon: Nope. Have a good night. x

She smiles playfully at his reply and shakes her head, eyes still glued to her screen as she walks to her bathroom. She shuts the door, lights her favorite candle, and climbs into the porcelain tub, breathing out a deep sigh as the warm water and bubbles begin to soak her sore joints and muscles. 

moan-a-lisa: please???? im in the bath rn and could give u a fun little peek:)

With the exception of customers that pay for phone sex or custom videos, Y/N never produces off-the-cuff content. But the mysterious air of this fleetwoodlondon user is enough to make her break some of her own rules. 

She's surprised when she receives a near-immediate reply — she'd mentally prepared herself to wait 10 or so minutes before he typed back, like he usually does.

fleetwoodlondon: Cute. 

fleetwoodlondon: I just don't want you to feel pressured to send me anything. I don't tip you for that reason. 

With a confused expression, she sits up to shut the water off. She nibbles on her bottom lip as she lowers back into the water, contemplating the weight of his words. In the end, she decides to  go with her gut.

moan-a-lisa: why do you tip me then?

She's not entirely shocked when she doesn't receive an instant response to her question. She sighs, dipping her head back into the warm water. It's annoying, the way this person she doesn't even know is sticking around in her brain. She's not big on dating or seeing people romantically, so it's pretty unusual for her to be so focused on someone. 

She tosses her phone onto the plushy bath mat on the floor and decides to enjoy the comfort of her bath instead of worrying over it. She takes care to wash her body and face, and when she gets out she puts her favorite skincare products on before brushing her hair out. When she finally looks at her phone an hour later, she sees a notification from the user himself. 

fleetwoodlondon: I just think you deserve it. 

fleetwoodlondon: But again, I never want you to feel pressured into sending me something just because of the money..

She shakes her head as she walks back to her bedroom. Pulling a pair of comfortable sweats on, she's still confused by the angle he's playing at. And while most guys would maybe weird her out, she wonders if she's being naive by feeling some sort of kinship with this person. 

As she's contemplating her response in the darkness of her bedroom, her phone buzzes again in her hand. 

fleetwoodlondon: I just like hearing about you. Knowing that there's just another regular human behind the screen, I guess. I promise I'm not trying to be weird because I know you probably get a ton of odd messages from people all day.. but I suppose maybe I'm just sort of lonely? And I enjoy the consistency of knowing I can watch your stream every night.

fleetwoodlondon: I'm so sorry if that crosses a line. Reading that back, it's probably creepy. 

She has to bite her lip to hold back the smile that curls onto her mouth from his words. It's not creepy, not coming from him, anyway. He seems... innocent, somehow, despite being a frequent viewer of her streams. And, in all honesty, she gets it — she's lonely, too. She doesn't have many people in her life besides her family and the people she works with. She understands why her viewers come to her daily streams because she shows up for the exact same reason.

moan-a-lisa: it's not weird. i get it

moan-a-lisa: but if you're not interested in receiving content from me in exchange for ur tips, can we do something else then?

fleetwoodlondon: What?

moan-a-lisa: tell me about your days too

fleetwoodlondon: Really?

moan-a-lisa: yeah. i think im lonely in the same way u are. it could be nice.

fleetwoodlondon: Okay. I can do that.

moan-a-lisa: good:)

. . .

Harry doesn't entirely realize what he's signed up for when she starts messaging him the next day. 

In theory, he assumed that maybe she was just saying that stuff to be nice. He knows she has a habit of trying to relate to her viewers and make them feel special. It was kind of her, but he chalks it up to that — that is, until he receives a private message from her at 11 a.m. the following morning. He's never spoken to her during the day, only during or after her streams in the evening. His eyes nearly bulge out of his skull when he reads her username on his phone — he's working on a big project with a few coworkers and they're on a meeting together (cameras off, of course), and he immediately chokes on his spit, excusing himself and turning his mic off. 

moan-a-lisa: how's ur day going so far?

He swallows nervously. What is he supposed to say? Isn't there some cardinal rule about not revealing private information to strangers on the internet? (Though he thinks maybe that went down the drain awhile ago, considering how they ended up in contact.) He nibbles on his bottom lip as he quickly types out a response, trying his best not to overthink it. She's just being nice, he reminds himself, she probably thinks you're some desperate loser who needs companionship. 

fleetwoodlondon: It's been alright, just working. Nothing too exciting. How about you?

He attempts to redirect his focus back to the coworker that's currently asking him a question about the project when his phone instantly lights back up. 

moan-a-lisa: boring:( im working too except i kind of hate my boss. he's a douche

moan-a-lisa: what do u do for work? 

"Harry?" 

He stutters, clicking the button to turn his mic back on, "Yeah, that sounds good, Mike," he rushes out nervously, "I trust you, you know what you're doing."

"Alright, we'll move forward with that, then."

"Great. I actually need to take a break for a bit, need to feed my cat," Harry says quickly. "Let's reconnect on this tomorrow."

His coworkers agree and the meeting ends, allowing him to focus all his brainpower on replying to her. Is it messed up that he ended a working session for this? Yes, potentially, and he feels guilty for it, too. 

fleetwoodlondon: I'm a computer engineer. And I'm sorry to hear that you hate your boss... do you have another job outside of streaming?

moan-a-lisa: yea I do graphic design during the day

moan-a-lisa: computer engineering??? so in other words ur smart as fuck and that's how u afford to pay me ridiculous tips so often?

He snorts to himself. He's always felt his job title sounds more impressive than it actually is. In reality, tech stuff is all he's ever been good at, so it was a natural move to major in computer science in school. He never thought he was particularly intelligent, even if his professors and peers insisted that he was. To this day, he feels like he's just a computer nerd that got lucky.

fleetwoodlondon: I mean, I wouldn't say I'm 'smart as fuck' but I do have more money than I know what to do with. So yeah, I guess that would explain the tips. 

moan-a-lisa: i feel like ur being wildly humble rn 

fleetwoodlondon: Definitely not. I just happened to find the niche I'm good at.

fleetwoodlondon: Do you like graphic design?

moan-a-lisa: yeah but i think i would like it way more if i could do freelance work or go to another company. like i said my boss sucks, he's kind of a misogynist and has way less experience than me.. not saying i should have his job BUT 

fleetwoodlondon: ...But you should have his job.

Harry's stomach tightens at the description of her boss. Thankfully, he's never been on the receiving end of such treatment, but he has friends that have — one of college peers was even told by a higher-up that she'd never get a managerial role at the company because of her sex. It makes him sick to think about, but especially when he imagines her being in that position. He doesn't know why he feels so protective over her (he knows she doesn't need that from a stranger online), but he does, and it's weird.

She doesn't reply after that and Harry forces himself to be okay with it. Now that he knows she has a day job, he reminds himself that she's busy and doesn't spend all of her time replying to private messages on her cam site. It's a bit of a struggle to focus on his job, but it's a welcomed distraction so he doesn't have to think about what she's doing or why she hasn't responded. 

He ends up working late to make up for the meeting he cut short and the time he took to reply to her messages. But when he peers over the screen of his laptop and sees the digital clock in his living room tick towards 7 pm, it's almost as if it's some sort of Pavlovian response, the way he grows antsy and begins to thicken up in his pants. He takes his time logging off from work and heats up a leftover stir fry from the night prior, swallowing hot mouthfuls so he's ready in time for her show. 

Just as he's done eating and he's bringing up a private tab on his phone, he gets a notification from their prior conversation. His stomach pings with anxiety, his eyebrows raising in surprise when he reads the words: will you be watching tn?

He thinks it's a stupid question — of course he'll be watching, but maybe she doesn't know she's part of his evening routine. He swallows, fingers trembling as he presses on the notification and quickly types back. Maybe he's over exhausted from staring at his computer screen all day, but the flirtatious response that comes from his end is even a surprise to him. Wouldn't miss it for the world, he sends back. 

She responds with a few angel emojis, his heart doing a flip as he reads the words she sent: good. i like knowing ur in the audience:) message me after and let me know what u thought. 

When her stream starts, he wants to bite his fist. She's wearing a beautiful navy blue set that serves as a gorgeous contrast to her smooth skin. The bralette and underwear are intricate with sweet lace detailings, providing peeks of her nipples and the small patch of pubic hair that decorates her mound. 

"Hi everyone," she greets with a grin. Despite the usual angle that only reveals a bit of her mouth and chin, he somehow feels like he knows more of her now. Selfishly, he realizes that he hopes she doesn't talk to other viewers the way they've chatted. "How are we doing tonight?"

There's a lull in conversation and he knows it's because she's reading through the immediate uptick of responses in the chat. He recognizes a few of the usernames who are also regular viewers, while others likely found her on the homepage. 

"I'm good, thanks for asking!" she replies, rolling her plush lips into her mouth, "I didn't have too bad of a day, actually. Had some nice entertainment to get me through work."

Harry's heart stalls slightly. She couldn't be talking about him, could she? It's probably wishful thinking, assuming that she would think that highly of their short conversation. 

"You guys are so nosy," she giggles, the sound of it making him smile, "Since when do you care so much about my personal life? Thought you just wanted to watch me cum."

As if that serves as some sort of reminder for her viewers, tips begin to flow in, along with demands in the chat. He watches her tug her bottom lip between her teeth as his eyes scan the messages too, stomach churning at what people ask of her. He wonders if it bothers her, but then again, he assumes she must have thick skin to do this. She doesn't need someone like Harry to defend her against horny strangers online.

"You're all silly," she murmurs as she rises onto her knees. Her thumbs find the thin fabric that hits at her hips, pulling the straps teasingly before letting them snap back against her skin. "Hold on, I have to do something."

For a moment, she cuts away from the screen, only leaving her legs in the view. Harry swallows as he lets himself examine her soft skin, fingers twitching at his sides as he imagines touching her — maybe even pressing kisses and dark marks into the surface of her thighs, too. 

His eyes flicker up to a notification at the top of his screen and it reminds him to turn his phone on do not disturb. However, instead of finding an email from work or a text from a friend, it's her. She's messaging him while she streams, knowing he's watching. His stomach tightens almost instantly. 

moan-a-lisa: are u watching?

fleetwoodlondon: Of course I am.

He watches as her lips curl into a small smile now that her body is back in frame. Her phone is in one hand while her other brushes up over her torso and chest and back down to her legs. 

moan-a-lisa: what do you want me to do tonight?

He swallows harshly as she lowers her phone. She starts to reply to other messages in the chat, knowing it's important to engage with her viewers to keep them entertained. 

"You guys know what my hard limits are, stop asking me to do that stuff," she says playfully, wiggling her hips slightly, "I promise, no amount of money will make me want to fist myself."

He snorts at that, momentarily forgetting that she's waiting on a response from him. Honestly, he doesn't know what's appropriate to ask of her — the last thing he wants is to make her uncomfortable.

fleetwoodlondon: Do whatever you want. You should get to call the shots for once.

On screen, she hums, though it seems like it's mainly to herself. As she plucks at the straps of her bralette, slowly lowering them down her arms to reveal the valley of her breasts, her tongue peeks out to lick over her lips.

"I really just want someone to dominate me tonight," she says, her tone dropping seductively, "I wanna be told what to do and how to do it. My brain's so fuzzy from being so horny all day, I can barely make a decision for myself."

Harry swallows harshly at her words. The chat instantly goes wild as tips quickly flow in, volunteering to be the ones to do it. She smirks, winding her arm around to unclip her bra, letting it fall to the floor. 

"Sometimes I just think about you dominating me, you know that?" she murmurs, pursing her lips as her hands find her tits, gently squeezing at her nipples. "Today at work, it was all I could think about... made me so wet, I had a mess in my panties by the end of the day."

His eyes are bulging out of his head now — she couldn't possibly be talking directly to him, could she? It seemed silly and improbable, but also... they had spoken today while they both worked. 

"Maybe someone from London, y'know? I've always had a soft spot for guys with British accents."

He almost comes in his pants on the spot. 

At a surface level, Harry is kind and quiet. He's always been quite introverted, he prefers to be alone, and he thinks he could go days without seeing a single person, except for Beatrice. But somehow — and there's probably a psychological explanation for this, one that he's uninterested in finding out — he makes up for it in the bedroom. He doesn't know why, but when he's with someone intimately, he just becomes... dominant. He's aware that his tastes aren't vanilla, like many of his past sexual partners had assumed, as spanking, bondage, toys, edging, and overstimulation are all some of his favorite pastimes. And with the way she's teasing him right now, it's only pushing him further to the dominant threshold he typically keeps tucked away. 

Pulling their conversation back up, he doesn't think much or read his message over before sending it.

fleetwoodlondon: If you wanted me to tell you how to touch your pretty little pussy, all you had to do is ask.

He sees the smirk that curls at her lips through the screen and he swallows, wishing he could taste them. 

"Yeah? You wanna tell me what to do?" she asks breathily, wiggling a bit in her seat. His cock is already throbbing in his pants as he taps at the screen, eager to respond. 

fleetwoodlondon: Spread your legs. Tease yourself. 

It's not even 30 seconds before she's shifted onto her butt, knees to the sky as she opens her legs. Her underwear is still on, covering her modesty, but she uses gentle fingertips to trace over her mound and down to the crease of her thighs. He watches her shiver beneath her touch. 

fleetwoodlondon: Move those pretty panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are for me.

"Fuck, 'm so wet for you," she moans, echoing the words from his message. She does as he requests, plucking the damp fabric from her center to reveal her glistening lips. Harry wants to verbally moan at how gorgeous she looks. "Can I touch myself, daddy? Please? Want it so bad— wanna be your good girl."

fleetwoodlondon: You are being good.

fleetwoodlondon: You can touch yourself, but only with your fingers. 

She dives in almost instantly, fingertips ghosting over her clit as her head falls to the side, slightly overwhelmed by the pleasure after waiting all day. She trails them down to her hole, where she's leaking steadily, and smears her arousal up to her clit, giving it a soft smack. She whimpers from the quick sting. 

"Do you see how wet I get for you?" 

fleetwoodlondon: Open yourself up. Pretend it's my fingers instead of yours. 

She moans as she pushes a single finger inside, arching deeply from the sensation. With her bottom lip wedged between her teeth, she gasps as she nestles a second in.

"Not big enough," she whines, grinding her hips down against her fingers, "Can't— they're too small, daddy, need yours instead."

fleetwoodlondon: I'm sure you do, but I'm not there. So be good and keep fucking yourself open with your pathetic little fingers. I want to watch you cum and lick it all up.

Harry can barely take it, watching her take her fingers knuckle-deep as she falls apart on screen from things he commanded her to do. He can see her thighs beginning to tense, her jaw slack as whimpers fall from her lips, and he wants nothing more than to finish with her. Quickly, he frees his cock from his sweats. So much pre-cum is leaking from the tip that he's almost embarrassed by it — he doesn't need any extra lubrication, so he wraps his fist around the head, bringing the substance down to the base of his length. He groans lowly and sets his phone up on the coffee table, leaning it against a box of tissues so he can use his other hand to pull at his sorely full balls.

"Fuck, daddy, you're so filthy," she moans, fitting a third finger in. She gasps from the stretch and it makes his eyes roll back as he pumps himself, trying to match the beat of her own thrusts. "Are you— y'gonna cum with me? Please, I want it, wanna lick up every last bit of it—"

"Jesus fuck," he mutters to himself, pausing momentarily to squeeze his base. She normally makes him finish fast, but it's never been this quick before. He has to give himself a break before he bursts all over himself. 

"I'm gonna cum," she bleats, almost as if it's a promise, "Fuck, it's coming, I'm gonna cum for you, daddy— shit, it's all for you—"

He watches with wide eyes as her pussy pulses around the trio of fingers deep inside of her, a slew of curses falling from her lips as she falls apart. It's so beautiful, even if he's not privy to seeing her facial expressions. Her whines and whimpers are music to his ears, and finally getting to watch her reach her peak is all the permission he needs to reach his. 

When he does a few moments later, all he can imagine is her hand wrapped around his cock, fisting it quickly while she mouths at the tip to catch the warm spurts of cum. He feels himself, heavy and twitching and tensing beneath his grasp, involuntarily whispering out similar sentiments to hers: "it's all yours, fuck, it's yours, it's yours."

His eyes flicker open to see her sucking on her fingers, a smirk on her lips as she gags around them. Her mouth is drooly and messy with spit and Harry wants to fall over.

"Thank you, daddy," she breathes out, "And thank you for watching, cuties. I appreciate all the sweet tips. I'll be back tomorrow at the same time, 7 pm, eastern standard time."

In the blink of an eye, the screen is blank, she's gone, and Harry has cold cum resting on his stomach. 

. . .

If Y/N's being honest, she's not sure what got into her last night.

She can't stop thinking about him — fleetwoodlondon — and how he became the dominant of her dreams. They didn't exchange any messages after she ended the stream, and she wonders if that made things worse. But he's all she can think about at work today as she pretends to work on a project for a minor client that Sam passed off to her this morning.

With a nervous swallow, she pulls her phone from her pocket. She keeps hoping that he'll message her first, but she's not entirely surprised when the only notifications she has are from her work calendar. Sighing, she brings up their private conversation, biting her lip at the last dirty text he'd sent her. 

moan-a-lisa: hi

moan-a-lisa: how's ur day going?

In an attempt to distract herself while she awaits his response, she redirects her focus to the project she’s working on. She can’t help glancing over at her phone every five seconds, wondering if maybe she took things too far last night and he doesn’t want to talk to her anymore. By the time an hour goes by and her stomach is growling with hunger, her spirits are crushed as she leaves her desk to head downstairs to the cafe for lunch. 

She’s pouting over a panini and a blondie when her phone buzzes on the table. She thinks her mind is playing tricks on her when she sees his username, only to realize she actually had an unread message from him. 

fleetwoodlondon: Boring, I’ve just been working all day. Was just thinking about you actually. 

With raised eyebrows, Y/N’s curiosity is peaked. She assumes he’s referring to her the stream — to be fair, it had been incredibly hot for her, too, so she fully understands if that’s all he associates her with. (Even if she has to force herself to suppress any disappointment seeping from within.)

moan-a-lisa: yeah? what were u thinking about? 

fleetwoodlondon: I picked up a book about graphic design and iconic advertising. It’s really interesting and I was thinking you might enjoy it. 

fleetwoodlondon: Sorry. That’s probably the dorkiest message you’ve ever received on here. 

Y/N doesn’t think she’s grinned this wide in weeks. 

. . .

Y/N and Harry continue to text every day after that. 

It’s weird. She’s never had this close of a relationship with a viewer before, and Harry has never found himself caring about someone he barely knows like this before. They don’t even know each other’s names and yet, they’ve been talking for a month, revealing tidbits of their lives that their closest loved ones don’t even know. In a sense, the consistent presence of the other on the phone is the most comforting thing either one has ever experienced. 

Harry knows about her siblings, the time she broke her arm on a swing when she was five, and when she got so drunk in college she threw up in her friend’s lap. Y/N knows that he moved from London for graduate school, he has a cat named Beatrice that he adores (and feeds right before tuning into her stream every evening), and watches Titanic when he’s had a bad day. 

So, he doesn’t really get why he’s so nervous to talk to her on the phone tonight. 

It had started as a joke — they’d been messaging earlier today, making fun of the fact that they felt like teenagers the way they were glued to their phones to talk to each other. Y/N had brought up wanting to hear his voice so she could finally hear his accent. Harry noted that he didn’t even know her name. And so, they made plans to talk on the phone at 5:30 this evening. 

He’s so anxious he feels like he might puke. As he watches the time slowly tick by, he grips his phone in his hand, waiting for it to start buzzing with an incoming call. He wonders if she feels nervous, too, or if this is no big deal for her. He feels silly for wondering if his infatuation has developed into a full blown crush, but he doesn’t think he can help it. He really, truly thinks he’s fallen for her just based off of chatting with her every day. 

Beatrice feels the tension radiating off of Harry’s body so she wiggles herself into his lap, nuzzling her head against his thigh. He welcomes her comfort, giving her gentle pets at the clock finally ticks to 5:30. His phone begins to vibrate promptly. 

He takes a long, deep breath. 

And then he clicks ‘answer.’

And he hears the most beautiful voice he’s ever heard before. 

part two

#writing #harry styles fan fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #one direction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one direction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic rec #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #Love on tour #nerdrry

[strangersmunsons]

Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 10 Prompt: Date Night ❤️ ~ 2,400 words you and Eddie go out for Valentine's Day.

Eddie can’t help feeling a squirm of embarrassment when he thinks about pitching you his date idea for your first Valentine’s Day evening together.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying attention to the calender; the date crept up on him without making a single peep. When Wayne pointedly asked him over breakfast what he was planning on doing for his girl, he just about choked on his cereal.

“D’you have eyes, kid? Every store window in town has been pink for weeks.”

His uncle just gave him an exasperated look, shaking his head.

All day, Eddie’s been scrambling to try and plan something special for you, which has proven to be difficult in a place like Hawkins, where opportunities for romance are pretty scarce, even when one (decidedly not him) has the brains to prepare further in advance than, well…the day of. 

He called you right after talking to Wayne, and confirmed a time to pick you up for your date, whatever it was going to be. He spoke too animatedly on the phone, laughed too loudly to hide his anxiety, but was careful not to let on that he had no idea what the hell he was doing. 

It ended up being only twenty minutes before he was supposed to leave when a lightbulb finally went off. But to say he wasn’t feeling confident about it would be…an understatement, to say the least.

He’s never celebrated this milestone with anybody before. Were you expecting something fancy? Maybe an expensive dinner that you could get dolled up for, and lose yourself in a dreamy whirlwind of fairy-tale romance?

Unfortunately, such extravagance was not only scarce in this rural town, but it’s also a little out of his price range. He desperately wishes that he could wine and dine you the way he thinks you deserve, but for now, on his bar-back wages, this is the best he’s got.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and raps quickly on your front door, pacing on the stoop. When the door swings open, you greet him with a beaming smile that makes you look so pretty it nearly knocks him off his feet. He’s seen it a million times before, technically; but it wasn’t until a few short months ago that you starting training that affection directly at him. He’s still not accustomed to the full force of it, and he’s not sure he ever will be.

“Hi,” you greet him, pulling the door shut behind you as you step outside. You move in close to him, closer than any mere friend would dare stand, but you’re not quite bold enough yet to reach out and grasp his hand, or lean in for the kiss yourself, so he does it for you. And with gusto.

If there’s one thing Eddie Munson is not afraid of, it’s PDA. Why should he care if someone sees him loving on you? He wants everyone to know how he feels. He’d shout it from the rooftops if he could.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He pecks at your lips again, and looks you up and down. “God, you look stunning.”

You try and laugh him off, looking a little embarrassed but not displeased. Eddie raises your entwined hands up into the air, and says, “C’mon, do a little twirl for me.”

Looking thoroughly flustered, you oblige, letting him spin you round — but only just the once.

“Yup, it’s just as I thought. Gorgeous, as usual.” He squints at you. “You got a boyfriend or somethin’ you’re trying to impress?”

You smooth the pleats of your skirt. “I do, actually. He’s ruggedly handsome and has a minor rap sheet — I’d watch out if I were you!” The last word comes out as a squeal, as Eddie suddenly snatches you up in his arms, holding you around your middle, and carries you down the short flight of steps. When both his sneakers are planted firmly on the sidewalk, he sets you down again.

Eddie escorts you to the van, and helps you climb inside. When you’re both seated, he pauses before putting the keys in the ignition. “I was thinking we could see a movie tonight,” he says conversationally. “Would that…be okay with you?” 

He watches carefully for your expression, waiting for the glimmer of disappointment to flicker across your face, but you look perfectly at peace with the suggestion. “Sure,” you chirp, giving him a shrug and and a small, perfect smile.

He tells you which film he wants to take you to, and you bust up laughing, nodding your head in affirmation. Eddie grins back at you, cheeks reddening. 

The drive to the theater is short, and within minutes, Eddie pulls into a parking space and cuts the engine.

Wanting to be sure, he asks you again, “Are you sure you’re okay with this? ‘Cause I know it’s not the most exciting night out, and I — I can call around to some restaurants if you’d rather do that instead, see if I can’t find some place that isn’t booked up —”

You cut him off. “Eddie, this is perfect. I think it’s a great idea.”

He raises his eyebrows skeptically, convinced that you’re indulging him. “If you say so.”

Eddie climbs out of the van while you wait patiently in the passenger seat, and walks around to your side. He’s been very insistent about this ritual since the first date: you cannot, under any circumstances, let yourself out of the vehicle; you must give him his chance to act the proper gentleman. 

Basically, he gets pouty and sulks if you don’t let him get the door for you.

Eddie bows, one arm extended in a flourishing gesture. “Milady.”

“Thank you, kind sir.”

With his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, and yours around his trim waist, the two of you head into the movie theater. There’s no new releases, no blockbuster rom-coms on this Wednesday in February, so the lobby is practically empty, save for the bored, gum-snapping cashier at the box office register. 

“Two for My Bloody Valentine, please.” 

God bless the Hawkins Cinema manager for having a sense of humor.

The cashier slides two tickets across the counter. You take them eagerly, while Eddie grabs your free hand, allowing you to lead him through the spacious room. He lets you pull him along like a lovesick puppy, totally content to follow you wherever you go.

At the concession stand, he fishes a wrinkled coupon out of his jacket pocket. Fanning himself with the crumpled paper dramatically, he says, “Got a voucher for free candy. You get whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Your mouth falls open, and you look up at him with wide eyes. “You are sweeping me off my feet right now,” you exclaim giddily. 

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I aim to please.”

You make your way to the assigned theater armed with popcorn, your free Raisinets, and a large coke for the two of you to share. Eddie’s not even fully seated in his rickety chair before he starts tossing buttery kernels into his mouth. A few fly astray and land on the floor. 

“Careful,” you chide him gently. 

He responds by picking up another piece and flicking it directly into your face.

“Hey!”

Eddie leans in abruptly, face suddenly inches from yours. He stares at you intensely, the seconds ticking by, then closes the distance by sealing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

When he pulls back he’s grinning brightly at you, while you’re rendered speechless. He wraps his arm around your shoulder again, pulling you as closely to him as he can manage with the armrest in the way. 

The house lights dim, then shut off, shrouding the room in darkness before the projector kicks on. Eddie watches the opening sequence of the film with interest, but you watch him instead. 

Hesitantly, you turn to whisper in his ear. “Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?” His dark eyes glint in the light of the silver screen. 

“I just wanted to say…I know we haven’t been dating that long, but I really like being with you. Thank you for taking me out tonight.”

Eddie blinks in surprise. His cheeks feel hot — now it’s his turn to be flustered. “O-oh. I do too. Like being with you, I mean.” He frowns uncertainly, gesturing towards the movie. “I mean, I know it’s not dinner at Enzo’s…” he trails off, unsure how to finish voicing his insecurity. 

You wave him off before he has time to worry again. “Eddie, you could take me somewhere to watch paint dry and I’d still have fun because I’d be doing it with you.” 

The corners of his lips turn up in a shy smile. “Really?”

“Of course.”

Eddie kisses you again, deliberate and slow, one hand lightly cupping your jaw. His lips move against yours when he whispers, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

~

“I forgot how Canadian they are in that movie,” Eddie snorts. 

With the film over, you and Eddie slowly plod back out towards the lobby, thoroughly stuffed on popcorn and candy and Coca-Cola. 

“Yeah,” you reply absentmindedly, suddenly much more focused on the selection of arcade games that are tucked away in the corner. “Hey.” You nudge him gently. “I bet I could kick your ass at air hockey.”

Eddie grins wolfishly at you, immediately game. “Oh, sweetheart, you wish.”

Both of you take your stances at either end of the table, Eddie fishing around in his pocket for spare change. He slots a quarter into the machine and the board hums to life; what follows is arguably one of the most zealous games of air hockey the Hawkins Cinema has ever seen, both of you slamming the puck back and forth across the table with so much vigor that, more than once, it flies off the table completely and arcs an impressive distance across the lobby. 

And as it turns out, you don’t need to wish for anything at all: you beat Eddie twice in a row, and quite gleefully. He tries to shake off his annoyance.

“You’re being too aggressive,” you tell him sagely. “That’s why you keep bouncing it back into the goal on accident.”

“I’ve never cared for sports,” he says dismissively, tossing his striker back on the now-still table, as though he’s not upset about losing.

“Someone’s got a case of sour grapes,” you tease him in a sing-song voice. 

“I do not.” He pouts. 

You pat his back sympathetically. “It’s okay. We can’t all be winners.”

“Alright, alright. Enough about my athletic ineptitude,” he laughs, poking you in the cheek. He nods over to the claw machine wedged between Pac-Man and Frogger. “Instead of spending my last quarter so you can get three-for-three on air hockey, how ‘bout I try and win you something instead?”

You clasp your hands together and hold them under your chin, batting your eyelashes. “Please do.”

He winks at you, and sidles on over, eyeing the miscellaneous goods piled up in the glass box. There are various toys, stuffed animals, small trinkets enclosed in bubbly-looking plastic containers. “This is my last quarter, you know. A lot riding on this.”

You shrug. “If you can’t get me a prize, we’ll have to break up.”

“Ouch! You’re a cold, cold woman, you know that?”

Eddie’s about to use his last coin, when he thinks better of it. Instead, before the machine eats it forever, he holds the quarter out to you in his palm, and with a deadly-serious expression says, “Blow on this for me.”

You blink at him. “What?”

He sighs with mock-impatience. “For good luck. C’mon, every gamblin’ man knows that.” 

“Oh.”

You blow on the quarter, and Eddie finally starts up his game. The pink tip of his tongue pokes out from between his lips, and his brow is deeply furrowed — the picture of concentration. He wields the control stick like it’s a deadly weapon, with the utmost care and precision. He’s aiming for a small teddy bear in the back left corner, perched precariously on the mountain of toys, but angled in such a way he thinks he might be able to nab it. 

He makes his last minute adjustments, then triumphantly slaps his hand down on the button, heavy rings clacking against the plastic.

The claw sinks down, steely fingers outstretched, and…misses the bear by inches, instead plowing deeper through empty space, and then enclosing around one of the smaller hidden prizes below. 

“You got it!” Your voice is excited; you grasp his shoulder and hop and down in victory as the claw rises again, veering towards the drop-bucket. 

“Yeah, but that’s not I wanted,” he grumbles dejectedly. “What is this shit?”

There’s a soft plunk! as the secret object hits the metal chute, and Eddie quickly opens the flap to snatch his prize. It’s a round, plastic container with a pink lid, small enough to fit in your palm; not unlike something you might find in a gumball machine. The plastic is frosted, so you can’t quite make out what’s inside.

“Can I open it?”

Eddie chuckles. “Well, I got it for you, didn’t I? Sorry for winning trash. I was aiming for the bear,” he hooks a thumb back towards the stuffed teddy, still trapped inside his glass enclosure. 

You ignore the little jibe towards your prize, and pop the lid open. Inside is a little plastic ring; fake silver, with a pasted-on rhinestone in place of a diamond. 

Your lips curl up into an involuntary smile as you examine the ring with joy; you love it. Eddie watches you play with the jewelry, mightily endeared. 

“I guess that’s not too bad, huh?”

“Eddie,” you put a hand on his chest, “you could not have won me something better. Thank you for spending your last quarter on me. I’m the luckiest girl in the world, I swear.”

Eddie takes the ring from you, and holds your hand with the other. “May I?” he asks.

You bow your head. “Of course.”

Eddie’s about to slip the ring onto your right index finger, then hesitates. “Actually…I think it may look better over here.”

He switches to your other hand, and slides it onto the ring finger — it’s a bit loose, but you wouldn’t want to wear it any other way. 

Your eyes are wide, sparkling as you beam at him. “I love it. It’s perfect.”

“It won’t be the last ring I put on you, sweetheart.”

Eddie Munson makes good on his promises. Three years to the day, in the exact same container, he gave you another ring just like your old one — except this time it had a real band, with a real jewel, and he did it on bended knee.

Happy Valentine's Day darlings!! thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

[b33zlebubz]

That last ask inspired me so how about reader gets REALLY bad migraines and just disappears for the night, missing dinner and then breakfast the next morning. The team goes to investigate!

yet another drabble I wrote under the counter at work oupe

TAGS: unedited, silly shenanigans, fluff, platonic found family, no content warnings RECKLESS ABANDON MASTERLIST

It seems they all suddenly want to pay you a visit and you couldn’t be more annoyed.

All the stress of everything seems to have all caught up to you at once.  With the lights too bright, your stomach attacking your insides, and the invisible band that seems to be continuously tightening around your skull—you’re practically bedridden.  

Slowly, the team begins to notice, and it starts with Price.  You’re not at dinner and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

He figures, at first, you’ve fallen asleep.  You don’t answer the door when he knocks so he leaves you to get some rest—knowing you need it.  He shoots you a text to let you know that him and the others will be busy with briefings and training the rest of the night to which you respond, hours later, explaining your predicament.  

The next day, Gaz is at your door.  His knock is softer than Price’s.  This time, you sigh and answer from your bed.

“What?”  Your voice is gravelly and muffled by the pillow your face is pressed into.

“Heading off-base for breakfast if you wanna come along,” he says, before adding, “Soap and Ghost are with me.”

“I’ll pass.”

There’s muffled whispering on the other side of the door.  British concern and Scottish protest.  Then, Ghost’s voice comes through the door.

“You alright in there, kid?”  

“Fine,”  you answer.  “Sick.”

Deciding not to press, they all decide to leave you alone for the time being—their voices fading to hush whispers as they disappear down the hallway.  You’re quick to sink back into a restless sleep, the uncomfortable cot stiff on your back and the pillow too flat for your neck.  Your peace doesn’t last long, though, because about two hours later you hear another knock.  

You wait for the sound of a voice, or maybe a second knock, but they never come.  Instead, there’s just the shuffle of a bag.

Your curiosity, momentarily, outweighs your pain.

Slowly you get to your feet.  Deciding against the dreaded lightswitch, you grab for your phone and use the light of your lockscreen to guide you to your door.  Then, slowly, you turn the doorknob and peak outside.

Soap is crouched in front of your door.  Surprised, he freezes in the act of placing a plastic bag on the ground—and you both just stare at each other for a moment.  

“What are you doing?”  You ask slowly.

He scoffs.  Instead of leaving the bag on the ground, he tosses it to your chest and you catch it.

“The Captain said you were havin’ migraines,”  he pushes himself to his feet.

“So?”

“So—I know the shit they’ll give you down at the med-bay doesn’t do fuck,”  he gestures to the bag.  “So me and Gaz went and got you shit that does.”

You eye him suspiciously, the very prospect of him doing something nice for you foreign and off-putting.  You’re shocked, to put it simply, after having done nothing but fight with him since you’ve arrived on base.  When you don’t immediately reply, Soap takes a breath.

“Anyway, I have shit to do,” he shoves his hands in his pockets before he turns to leave.  “And you’re welcome.”

You stare after him for a moment, still processing the interaction.  It’s only when he’s sauntered off down the hallway do you retreat back into your room and open the bag, expecting cheap, off-brand Tylenol or maybe some tea.  Instead, what you find causes you to let out an audible sigh of relief.

Excedrin, a water bottle, and a cold compress.  Thank fucking god.

#john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty fanfiction #platonic fic

[myillicitaffair]

Somethin’ Stupid | Charles Leclerc

Summary: while being interviewed by his former lover, bottled up feelings find their way out.

Warnings: english not being my mother tongue, lots of angst, some swearing, arguments.

Notes: this is the first time i’m ever posting anything on here, i hope you enjoy it xx

1.5k words.

Letting myself fall into his abrasive webs was surprisingly easy. His green orbs, pervasive and curious, piercing my soul.

We had our ups and downs, unbridled passion slowly dying with each tear shed, magnetic attraction burning my lungs.

We found ourselves in a hiatus, which found a way of prolonging itself further than I would have liked to. Perhaps he managed to keep himself occupied with his busy schedule; trainings, special dietary requirements, public relations… as for me, I rather hold my silence.

My routine was overflowed with his voice, with how much I missed his touch on my lower back, guiding me through the crowds, our hands intertwined in a tacit promise.

However, life demanded to continue with apparent normality. Dinner parties surrounded by friends, rounds of drinks avoiding alcohol… The last thing I needed was to degrade myself into a melancholic drunkenness.

Was he also having a hard time with the abysmal coldness on the other side of the bed or the loneliness of not having anyone to dilute your sorrow over morning coffee with?

My days had fallen into a sort of routine; waking up while missing him, showering while missing him, having breakfast while missing him… I think you get how thing are.

This particular morning, Silverstone was extraordinarily cloudy, the mist engulfing my view from the hotel room. How fitting!

Running away from my surreptitious misfortunes, I head downstairs, soaking up the competitive environment prior to every race. Emboldened as an agitated swarm, my colleges and me descended on the designated circuit.

Tedious security controls accompanied the anticipated fun, a hammer already pounding into my head at the thought of seeing him face to face once more.

Walking towards the space where the press was condensed, I check the days schedule for the last time. I am lucky enough to maintain friendly interactions with most drivers, so as to achieve fluid interviews, keeping the audience on the edge of their seats.

The only reason I can find as to why that fateful name is written on my list of drivers to interview was that God and I clearly have some unresolved business… funny timing to make me pay the price though!

A lump gets stuck in my throat just by thinking about it, preventing regular air flow.

The countdown only stuns me, even though my duty doesn’t start until the last lap. The smell of burnt rubber, product of speeding wheels, fills my lungs while intoxicating my nostrils.

The continuous lights turn red with overwhelming precision as seconds go by, lightning up the faces hidden with baklavas and iconic helmets.

Unconsciously (or maybe not so much), my eyes crawl back to the speeding number “16” that, red and furious, slides around the circuit while attempting to memorize every bump and curve along the way.

Chasing the sequence with collective looks of astonishment, a collision comes rushing down, disabling Piastri and Norris by the arrogance that only clear disagreements gives you.

Without further issues, the race concludes with a podium conformed by both Red Bull Racing drivers, trailed by seven time world champion Lewis Hamilton.

As possessed by group madness, the journalists rush into the victors. Microphone in hand, cameras shadowing us, content hunger gushing from our pores.

Driven by a exacerbated sadness, I shift my focus from the winners to him, returning my gaze with clouded tear ducts, bottled up frustration visible in his features.

With a touch on my shoulder, I’m brought back to reality by a co-worker, who, with a subtle shift of her head signals my awaiting obligations.

I head towards my press conference, where I take a seat with my name on it, psyching myself up for what I’m sure will be the most awkward interview of my whole career.

Dressed in Ferrari clothing and constantly stalked by flashes, both pilots near the platform where I await. They settle into their designated spots, holding still until the cameraman says otherwise.

I steal one last glance at my premeditated questions and hide my true feelings behind a focused frown.

“Welcome dear viewers! We find ourselves in the eleventh race of the year, accompanied once more by our friends from Ferrari, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz.”

I desperately try stabilizing the noticeable shake in my voice.

“Friend”- the Monegasque interrupts my monologue with a mocking remark.

The puzzled look his teammate throws in his direction doesn’t go unnoticed by the former, who insists on jointing his glistening irises with mine.

I decide to ignore the brief impasse in the speech, running away from his calculated sarcasm as I force the corners of my mouth into an attempted smile.

“so, Carlos… do you think driving behind two cars that crushed ruined your performance?”- I question, tripping over my words under Charles´s scrutiny.

“It´s safe to say it wasn’t an unexpected accident”- the Spaniard pronounces, doing his best at minimalizing the awkwardness- “for at least a couple of laps, Oscar and Lando were teasing each other, clearly trying to gain advantage over the other. They were lucky enough neither of them got hurt.”

I nod absent minded, vibrating due to the pounding against my ribcage.

“Charles, what can you tell us about your engineers’ strategy for this race?”- I swallow loudly, praying he can´t notice the mesmerizing effect he has on me.

“I guess you could say I’m not entirely satisfied with my team´s execution this season”- he confesses, minimizing the tingles of frustration running down his spine- “It would also be quite unfair dumping the blame on my team when my failure has more to do with me letting my emotions get the best of me.”

The tension is intercepted by a longing sigh I didn’t know I was withholding. The world seems to stop in its euphoria simply to hang in his every sentence.

“A broken heart is no joke… even less when you have to patiently wait for the piece they decide to donate you”- he reproaches without saying my name but making it perfectly clear that I was indeed the recipient of his raw address.

My anxious movements become motionless, forgetting the when and where, just to focus on the displeasure bubbling in my stomach.

“Guys, I really don´t think it’s appropriate to discuss this now”- intercepts the Madrilenian, proposing a ceasefire.

Mi hand goes up in the air before I can help it, shutting him up mercilessly.

“I wonder where I must´ve learned it…”- I reply, drowning in the unexpected harshness of my tone- “don´t forget who was the one to suggest this ´no strings attached´ bullshit between us.”

The drivers face shines with a scandalous blush in response to my bravado. Right here and there, I comprehend the dept of his anger, making its way through his collarbones, until it climbs up his cheeks.

“Just because I thought that’s what you wanted”- he spits out his resentful response.

From the corner of my vision, I perceive Carlos´s discomfort by reading his body language; the friction of wiping away the sweat stagnant on his hands, his shoulders pouring forward in a clumsy attempt of hiding from the cameras, his chair weakly shaking under the constant bouncing of his extremities.

Madness atrophies my reasoning, blinding me enough as to not have merci on his apprehension. I took this way too far, it would be useless to swallow my feelings.

“how in the world could you think our agreement benefitted me? Really, Charles, you couldn’t be any more stupid!”- I scream back, jumping up from my seat.

The swing of my feet gets ahead of my thoughts, allowing me to run away from the premature conflict before it blows up in the air.

Mi face heats up from the warmth of my own tears, that start rolling down my cheeks. With each involuntary spasm of my jaw, sobs escape my gasps for air. I don’t dare to slow down.

“Can you please just listen to me?”- a voice behind me shouts, trying to stand by my side.

I turn around to face his scrunched up brows.

“you have nothing else left to make up. You may convince somebody with the whole ´heartbreak boy´ façade you’ve got going on, but you have genuinely driven me mad”

“You and I both now that isn’t true! Have you ever wondered why I always seem to take a step back after every show of affection?”- he manages to freeze me to the core- “How come you never noticed my excessive efforts to stay away from you? I can’t even behave like a functional human being if I’m not feeling you, touching you, having you with me.”

In the middle of the paddock, with every pair of eyes set on us, events unfold the way I’ve been dreaming of, however I can´t even react.

“I know I´m not in a position to ask you anything, but please, strip me from the torment that uncertainty means… even if that means to completely destroy me”- he whispers with renewed fragility.

My smirk slowly becomes uncontrollable laughter, reducing me to unbridled chuckles. I shelter the vestiges of my giggling in between his arm, until It ceases in its intensity.

Without noticing, I search for his lips with my own, craving the heat they irradiate.

“I think you know perfectly well how my soul aches for you”- I manage to sneak in between kisses, stumbling across his smile, displayed in all its glory.

#charles leclerc #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #ferrari #charles leclerc smut #f1 smut #f1 fic #red bull f1 #red bull racing #imagine #argentina #Spotify

[teddypickerry]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! ravenclaw potter reader!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: language & mentions of harassment!

summary: after being verbally harassed by cormac mclaggen, your secret boyfriend draco must come to your rescue.

IT WAS A dull evening at hogwarts. nothing that shocked draco malfoy. he was used to being bored of the castle, he was too familiar with the grounds after being here so many years. nothing excited him anymore. except for seeing his girlfriend, y/n. which only happened during the late hours of the early morning and late evening. when it was silent throughout the castle, and no one could find either of you sharing spit atop the astronomy tower. your boyfriend’s personal favorite spot.

it was exactly two minutes into dinner that draco noticed you were missing from your own table. he had been glancing in your normal direction every chance he got but your friends were blocking his view. so, when he finally noticed the empty spot his eyebrows furrowed. he shook it off immediately, knowing you and how you probably were off attempting to receive a few extra house points. or maybe you were off with hagrid. or maybe, even, you lost track of time lost in a good book. that must have been it, he had convinced himself as he took another bite of his meal.

it was a few minutes later that he started to worry. he had noticed your brother, harry, missing along with a few of your best friends. draco had only assumed the group of you were off doing something he would disapprove of. theo’s voice was in his ear as if he cared, the entire duration of dinner. not that draco was paying any bit of attention as he stared off at your empty seat. trying to contemplate what to do or what to think.

“mate, what’s up with you? did ya’ hear what i told you- about that hufflepuff girl?” theo had slapped his shoulder as he tilted his head. blaise’s eyes were also locked on the silent blonde, lorenzo’s as well. draco turned slightly to face theo in an annoying manner. “no, i didn’t. and i don’t want to.”

the curly headed brunette held up his hands in innocence as he turned to face his own plate, eating his sandwhich. it was blaise’s turn to care as he watched his best friend stare off into eternity. “draco-“

draco caught none of the rest of the conversation as the sight of two of your friends entering the great hall caught his eye. there was a distraught look on both of their faces as they spoke to one another in hushed voices. okay, now he was worried. he was about to rise when he started to get into his own head. if you were completely fine, he didn’t want to embarrass you or him by exposing your private relationship. the two of you had fought hard to make it secret, and he didn’t want to blow it. you being a potter and him being a malfoy and the two of you dating would break every standard ever made. draco hated your brother and your family with every bone in his body - or so you thought.

when fifth year came round, and the two of you were partnered together in charms class, you soon learned that he wasn’t that unbearable. he, the same. months later, the two of you had been dating for just a few months - friends for nearly a year. all private due to the sake of disownement on either halves of your families. yeah, it hurt to watch you dance with fred weasley at the yule ball. or not be able to tell you that you looked pretty when he saw you at breakfast. or simply take you on dates to hogsmede. he knew how much you adored butterbeer, he just wished he could witness it for himself.

and with that, he stood. draco could hear his friends call his name as he made his way out of the great hall and to the staircase. the slytherin knew how risky he was being considering there was a very good chance you weren’t even at your dorm. but most of the students were at dinner, so he took that as a leap of faith. it was several flights of stairs to get to the ravenclaw tower. the tallest tower in the entire school.

draco had only been to your dorm room once, to drop you off after you had a bit too much fire whiskey. but every other time you had seen one another was meeting at the astronomy tower or in the library, or outside the castle on the grounds. he knew which one was yours though, he had paid first years to get you flowers twice before. once when you were ill and the second time just… because, he’s draco malfoy and he’s your boyfriend.

he entered the tower after answering the riddle, he wished all entrances had a riddle rather a secret word. draco of course believed he would answer them correctly everytime, he was just so clever. he entered the house common room cautiously, not wanting to explain to head of house professor flitwick why he was sneaking around ravenclaw dorms. the dark blue aura, the painted stars on the ceiling, the several book shelves - it all lay silent as he sighed in relief at the emptiness.

draco immediately made his way to the right staircase and walked up it too quickly, anxiously. he reached the top only to spot your brother and your friend stood outside your door. his too expensive shoes creaked too loudly against the darkened wooden final step, causing both heads to turn in his direction. he didn’t even bother hiding it at this point. “malfoy, get out of here.”

“shut it, potter.” draco rolled his eyes as he shoved passed him and pressed his head against the door. “what are you even doing here?” harry questioned as draco ignored his choice of words. “y/n, it’s me.”

that was all you needed to hear to open the door ever so slightly so you could grab him. in which you did, shoving him in your dorm room as you shut the door behind him. he furrowed his eyebrows as to why you were locked in you room with your brother and friend stood outside. you sat back down on the floor, the back of your head pressed against the edge of your bed. draco took a breath before he sat down beside you, inspecting you quickly.

your eyes seemed puffy and slightly red. you looked upset, even more upset then when you found out you couldn’t get tickets for your favorite because you had the O.W.L.S. his heart broke in several different patterns which soon turned to anger as he knew this was nothing. who hurt you?” “y/n-“

“what is malfoy doing in there? get away from my sister you-“

“silenceo.” y/n casted softly making the words of her brother now, silent. you turned to draco as it all seemed to click in your mind. “merlin’s beard, dray. you- you’re here. harry knows you’re here. no, oh no.”

“darling,” draco spoke softly as he leaned his face closer to your own. your eyes landing directly on his own light ones. “i don’t care about that right now. what’s going on, hm?”

you shook your head as you wiped the dry tears from earlier off of your face, provoking redness to come to the surface. he sighed as he tilted his head, his cold finger tracing your jaw. his whole hand cupped the side of your face as it fell into his hand sadly. “pretty girl, what’s wrong?”

“i-“ your voice cracked as you took a deep breath. “i was leaving quidditch practice and cormac…” your voice trailed off as you sniffled. “he started going on about how good i was in the game. and how he knew i was good at other things… i asked him to leave me alone and he kept going on.”

you could feel draco’s hand harden underneath your face, as if he whole body tensed. “he was saying the things he wanted to do to me and-“ your voice cracked as your hand reached to hold onto draco’s arm. “he just kept talking and talking and tried to follow me to my dorm and i kept telling him to get away from me and then he tried to-“

“i’m going to fucking avara his fat ass,” draco spit as he watched a tear drip down your cheek and into his own hand. the dorm remained silent as he placed his free hand through your hair, something that he learned calmed you down ages ago. he felt maimed knowing he couldn’t have stopped cormac, or at least wasn’t with you to walk you back to your dorm like any normal boyfriend. or that he couldn’t have been at the practice to put cormac in his place. and especially that he wasn’t there the moment you arrived there so he could hold you in his arms and let you feel like you were okay and safe. “why didn’t you tell me? or come to me?” his voice was quiet, it was practically a murmur. you only picked it up because of the silence of the room. your heart hurting at his tone.

“draco, i couldn’t come running to you.” you told him which only made his stomach twist and turn. you watched his face drop from anger to pure sadness. “i- you. fuck. y/n, you can always come running to me,” his voice came of as a question as he stuttered out his own words.

“i…” your voice trailed off as you looked anywhere but his eyes. you didn’t want to cry anymore, and you knew you would burst into tears if you had to watch his sad puppy dog expression anymore. “i didn’t want you to be mad at me. for… ruining our secret, y’know. if i came running to you that would- ugh. i didn’t want to fuck this up for you, or for your potter hating family.”

“fuck my family, y/n. fuck everyone. i only care about you. you- you come to me if you need me to lend you a quill. or if you need me to open a blimey muggle pickle jar! you come to me always, i don’t want you to think i care about father’s opinion over your feelings. you’re my girlfriend, y/n. i care about your feelings over everything, okay? just- i’m here. i’m always here for you, darling. understand?” he dropped his hands from you as he took your own in his hands, holding them tightly as he spoke. you fought a huge smile at his devotion towards you.

“i understand.” you smiled at him as his lip curved and he leaned towards you, his lips pressing softly against your own. it was a relief after the afternoon you had, and you knew nothing in the world could ever make you feel better. “now, if you don’t mind i have some business to deal with - with some slag - a curly headed fool who tried to mess with my girl.”

“hm,” you pressed your lips together as he pulled away from the kiss. “also, my brother outside of the door.” draco groaned as he stood up, helping you up as well. “ah yes, an evening full of what i call fun.”

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x potter reader #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #ravenclaw reader #draco fluff #harry potter sister #draco x y/n #harry potter

[theta-walti]

Graceful Mishaps

Summary: R is a bit clumsy. Some small moments when the r is clumsy and Jessie taking care of her

Warnings: Fluff, fluff and more fluff!

A/N: Jessie is still in Chelsea for this fic! i had fun, thank you for the idea for my debut fic!

Word count: 1153

everyone on the team knows that your clumsy, you won't admit it but it's true, every little move can cause you to stumble. Just like this morning, when you were getting ready you tripped over the clothes that you had carelessly tossed aside moments before, or the coffee that you accidentally knocked over when your making breakfast yesterday, or the lastest accident in the changing rooms where you tied your shoelaces together and it lead to a comical trip when you attempt to run, that lead to the argument between you and jessie just moments later.

"l'm not that clumsy!" you said, trying to defend yourself

"Yes you are! you just triped because of your shoelaces!" Jessie aruged back as she crossed her arms

"That was an accident!"

"exactly!" Jessie yelled back

"tell me then! when am l that clumsy?"

Jessie thought for a while then she spoke with a little smirk on the edage of her lips

"do you remember grocery shopping last week?"

Hearing the question a memory flooded back into your mind

You and Jessie were at the shops, picking up things for the upcoming week. Jessie was holding your hand tightly, and you were trying your hardest not to wonder off, She had a firm grip, and you had a hard time keeping up with her, but you think that she was purposefully walking fast to keep you on your toes.

"Jessie, how much longer are we going to be here? I'm hungry and l want to go home." you said as we turned into the snack aisle.

"Don't be dramatic, you ate before we came here. We're almost done. I just need to get some chips and then we can go." She replied as her eyes scaned the crisps shelf debating on which one she should get.

"But I'm hungry now! And we have chips at home, can't we just go pay for everything and go?" you pouted.

She let go of your hand and walked a few feet in front of you. you saw her pick up a bag of tortilla chips and walk back, then she throw it in the the trolly, which is right in front of you. you went to take a step forward to take Jessie's hand again when you tripped over one of the wheels of the trolly. You fell to the ground, landing right on your face and Jessie bursted out laughing.

"I knew those shoes weren't a good idea, they make you too clumsy." She teased.

"Not my fault. The trolly was in my way." you retorted with a scowl, getting up off the ground and dusted the non-existent dust off.

"Maybe we should just get some bandages. We both know it's inevitable that you'll hurt yourself before the night is over." Jessie said with a smirk on her face.

You looked at her, trying to figure out if she was joking or not. When you decided that she was just being sarcastic, you shot her a playful glare.

"Just because you're right doesn't mean that you have to say it." you responded, crossing you arms.

She laughed, wrapping her arm around your waist and pulling you into her.

"I think we can find some band-aids at home." She teased again." Come on, let's go get the rest of the stuff and get out of here." She suggested, and you nodded.

"That's fine with me. The faster we leave, the faster I get food." You agreed and Jessie chuckled.

"Oh that was one time!" Your tried to argue back.

"One time? What about the kitchen plates?" The smirk on Jessie's face went wider as she spoke.

You blushed as another memory flooded into your mind

It was a nice evening, you and Jessie were preparing dinner together. Jessie had taken charge of chopping vegetables while you were in charge of setting the table, However, as you reached for the plates in the cabinet, your hand slipped, and you ended up dropping a stack of plates, causing them to crash onto the counter with a loud clatter.

"Oh shit, " you muttered, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you immediately bent down to pick up the pieces.

Jessie rushed over immediately when she heard the loud crash, concern and worry filled on her face. "Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling down beside you to help clean up the mess.

You nodded, feeling flustered by your clumsiness. "Yeah, just a little accident," you replied sheepishly.

As you continued to clean up, Jessie couldn't help but notice your hands. Your finger was cut by the glass. She immediately stood up and dragged you up with her

"You're bleeding, come on"

*she started to walk towards the bathroom, still holding your injured hand*

"Where-" you looked at your hand and noticed the cut. You must have cut it when you're picking up the plates, "but the plates-"

"You're more important, now sit down"

Jessie said as she walked over to the sink and bent sown to grab the first aid kit. When she returned, she just asked for your hand and started to take care of it. "You know, I think you're even more accident-prone in the kitchen than I am," she teased gently, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You couldn't help but laugh at her comment, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I guess that's one way to put it," you replied, still feeling a bit embarrassed.

When Jessie finished, she put a kiss on the back of your hand and smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Yea, thank you, baby." You kissed Jessie's lips for a brief second and grinned, Jessie blushed and connected their lips again, and they stayed like that for a while before she pulled away, both of you a bit breathless "Come on, we still have dinner to finish and some plates to clean up"

You grinned and followed Jessie out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen.

"That's night ended very well thank you very much!" You tried to defend yourself again.

"That's not what l'm trying to say! You really should be more careful baby" Jessie said as she stepped forward, closer to you as she wrapped her arms around you

"I know, jess, l know." You leaned into the touch, and gradually, it turned into a hug as you wrapped your arms around her neck. sudden, the doors of the changing room opened, and Guro's head popped in.

"Come on love birds! Your late and Emma is asking why your taking so long to get changed!" Guro's Norwegian accent shown though as she spoke, you and Jessie both broke apart of the hug and chuckled.

"Race you to the field!" Jessie yelled as she got a head start, racing out of the changing rooms, you followed, and of cause, since you still haven't re-tied your laces, your face is on the ground once more.

A/N: l hope you like it! The end is a bit rush but l think it's good! I hope you enjoy it and feel free to send more requests!! This is theta, signing out, see you later!

#jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #jessie fleming #woso fanfics #woso imagines

[neoplatinum]

to love and to cherish - epilogue | minatozaki sana

summary: the aftermath of that day has left more than physical scars on your family

pairing: heiress!sana x reader

themes: blood, murder, gore, knives, kidnapping, assassins, katanas, arranged marriage au, fluff, angst, tension, lots of elitism, conglomerate power-hungry side characters, implied sex, misamo!

wc: 4.0k

(series masterlist)

you stare at your shoulder, the scar from the stabbing in a lighter color. you lightly graze over the scar, watching the way it contorts under the pressure of your finger. a faint pain coming back just from the mention. you barely survived that attack from the abes. the injuries from your fight leaving imprints not only physically, but mentally.

some days you wake up crying, tears already staining the pillowcase. it’s either sana or the kids dying in front of you, the evil smile of the brothers causing you to toss and turn. sana’s always there next to you.

always next to you.

you tend to go quiet those mornings, letting yourself be vulnerable in her arms. constantly living with the images of the brothers killing your family.

today seems to be one of those days.

you’ve been having the same dream for the past couple of days. in this dream, sana is the one who rushed in, chasing down the brothers herself. intending to make them pay for their crimes. to tear them to pieces, instead they kill haruto and hanako with their laughs filling up the empty room. 

sana letting herself fall to the ground, sobs let loose as she lets them kill her, no longer willing to live. and you stand in the corner, pounding at an invisible boundary, screaming to save them all. 

in every dream, you are powerless, unable to protect the family that you’ve grown to love.

you watch yourself in the mirror, the injuries of the fight still evident across your body. some cuts deeper than others; a testament that you survived according to sana.

you let out a deep breath, as you wash your hands, trying to rid the thoughts from your head. a distorted version of the reality that you now live. the abe’s are dead and your kids are safe. even momo and mina are recovering quickly, momo’s back to her old muscly self.

turning off the faucet, and wiping your hands on a small towel as you walk back into the bedroom. sana’s still sleeping, her head lolled to the side, the comforter wrapped around her snuggly. 

smiling, you lightly adjust her head back, so she wont wake up with a neck cramp. her head continues to chase after your hand even as you step back.

you lean down to kiss her forehead before exiting the room. and outside your room is both haruto and hanako. his big eyes staring at you, rushing to hug your legs. you bend down, pressing a kiss to both of their temples before wrapping them in a deep hug.

haruto’s been more clingy with you, he doesn’t tell you what he’s seen that day. but you have an inkling it’s more than you intended him to see. maybe the bloodshed has made him more worried for you. he always clung to sana before, but these days, you find him wanting to sit on your lap at dinner, or begging you to read him to sleep. 

all of which you will happily oblige to, doing anything to keep his childhood a happy one. hanako doesn’t seem bothered, a warm smile always on her face, she’s grown to cling to sana.

you stand back up, picking hanako up in your good arm. letting haruto hold onto your fingers as you descend down the stairs, the family portrait fixed against the wall again. rounding the hallway and down to the kitchen.

sitting hanako into a high-seat while haruto clambers up a step-stool. hands against the ledge, watching you intently. you start making a simple japanese breakfast for everyone. spooning warm hot rice into bowls, and plating tamagoyaki on long rectangular plates. the distant chirping still heard through long panes of windows.

it’s a nice sunday, with your family until sana’s mother’s birthday. sending staff to the minatozaki estate to help set up.

haruto watches as you continue to stir the miso soup, pouring it into bowls, giving it to him to place on the dining table. a chore that he’s found himself enjoying. the heavy steps of his little feet against the hard wooden planks. his little hummings as he continues to walk back and forth. hanako’s just happy to be there with her little toy in hand as she tries to bite it. the rest of the breakfast gets served when sana walks into the dining room. 

you walk up to her, feeding her a piece of steamed egg, to which she happily melts into your arms after. “good?”

“the best.” you pull her towards her chair, scooting the chair in, and leaving the dining room to wash the dishes. haruto’s already going on about how excited he is to see grandma, while you can hear hanako’s toys shaking. grateful beyond belief that your family is safe and happy.

--

the drive to the main estate is quiet, other than hanako’s toys shaking in her hands. the sounds of light music playing through the radio speakers, haruto’s happily sat in your lap, hands on the car door as he watches the scenery outside. it’s nice to see him so happy, wonder-filled eyes observing the world around him. brushing through his hair, and teaching him the different things that he sees out the window.

the calming hum of the car, coupled with light coughs from the chauffeur makes you lose track of time. unaware that you have rolled into the main estate. gazing upon the beautiful trees branching down towards the people, like a giant canopy over the mingling guests.

that familiar crest on the wall, now in a golden pin on your breast pocket. a dignified gift from sana’s mother. a valued heirloom of the minatozaki clan, one you had to officially sign that was yours to own when she handed it to you. hanako continues to shake her rattle, clanging the wooden pieces against each other. you grab haruto in your arms as you step out the car. rounding around the back and opening the door for sana. a hand outstretched as you take it, letting her stand up. placing haruto on the ground for him to run behind sana’s legs. peering at the crowd of people out front. 

you place hanako on your hip, taking sana’s hand in yours. walking towards large doors, the sounds of gasps filling your ears, the feeling of being stared down from afar. continuing to walk in as the crowd parts at the sight. you pay it no mind as you walk down the familiar stone slabs. hearing the trickle of water and the sounds of the wind chimes nearby. 

immediately the security team is bowing to a perfect right angle. head straight down as you pass. little haruto hiding behind sana’s legs as he watches the people strangely. once you enter through the main doors, immediately you’re hit with the sight of dignitaries everyone. a far too familiar scene, you’ve started to dread these events. they always put you in a sense of unease. crowded spaces with limited exits has made you more hyper aware, constantly darting your eyes for exits and counts of people.

heads are turning at the sight of your family, the familiar lewd glances from the men and curiosity or disdain at the sight of you. rolling your eyes at the familiar looks. seems that even months away from prying eyes has made the people more nosy. you pull sana a little closer to you, her eyebrow slighted up at the motion. you just offer her cheek a kiss and continue to move forward.

its clear why sana feels like a zoo animal at these events, you’re feeling the exact same. 

you can’t blame them though, this is the first sighting of your family out in public in months since the showdown with the abe’s. it’s made friends and foes more curious of you. 

you even took a temporary leave from work, spending more time recovering and finding peace with the events that unfolded. the death of the abes led to an uproar in the japanese underground network, more people vying for the dissolved power that was once there. 

not many people know that kaito was killed by kenji, instead it was leaked that you killed them both. causing unease in the people, a sign of power being shifted in your direction. more and more of the minatozaki council is recognizing your power in the family. a sign that you could become the next capable leader. 

you can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing anymore.

you spot momo and mina afar, their eyes already scanning the scenery. a clear sign that they didn’t want to be here, resorting to their military training to distract themselves. you smile as haruto runs up to mina. shaking on her pant leg as she picks him up.

“hi momo, how have you been?” you ask, letting her coo at hanako, your daughter continues to shake the rattle in momo’s face. nearly hitting her with it. momo dodges it easily, and just pokes her cheeks lightly.

“always doing better than you.” she says, smiling wildly as she tickles hanako, her squirming in your arms. you pass her to momo, watching the way she tosses her in the air. your heart nearly dropping to your stomach, but then she catches her and hanako cheers. 

mina gives an approving nod before going back to people watching, sharp eyes looking for anything out of place.

sana pulls you into her, a content smile as she watches her kids play with her cousins. a reminder that this life wasn’t always going to be this way. had she been married to kaito, she doubts momo and mina would be willing to interact with her kids. but knowing that you are her partner, it’s obvious how willing they are to be intertwined in your life. 

the sound of a gong taking you out of your little bubble, the sight of sana’s mother taking center stage. a mic in hand as she welcomes the guests to her birthday ball. a bright smile on her face, as she continues to share the sentiments of how happy she is for the life that she now has. short anecdotes about how she started and how far she has come, even taking the time to pan to you and sana. giving a quick bow to the clapping guests as their eyes fall on your family.

she gives a graceful deep bow before exiting the stage. you grab hanako from momo’s arm and make your way over, letting her coo at her granddaughter. the other women in her circle fawning over the young girl, hanako absorbing all the attention. 

you’re starting to think that you’re raising a mini sana. one that showers in attention and wants to be treated like a little princess. sana’s mother smiles and picks her up. 

you step away from the group of woman, walking back to the trio. haruto begging to be held when he sees you, his eyes happy as he wraps his arms around your neck. a sign that he’s feeling safe.

you and sana make your rounds with other guests, kindly greeting them all. worried over the injuries that you’ve sustained. a trained smile as they express their empathy with greedy eyes. you keep your hand on sana’s back as you continue to move around the floor. taking time to appreciate the dragon tattoo that peeks out from the dress, fingers softly moving across her back through long conversations. 

her tattoo is a gorgeous sight you will never get tired of seeing. you continue to stare at it until she turns towards you, hair covering the tattoo as she caught you again. a warm blush spread across her face, a knowing grin sent your way. sana only smiles before coyly walking away, off to mingle with her mother’s friends. all of them fawning over her and her daughter. haruto peeks his head over, asking you to bring him towards his grandmother.

you drop him to the ground as he stands in between his grandmother’s legs. eyes peering at the older women in the circle, awws and compliments filling his ears. you take the time to glance around, more and more eyes on you than ever before. 

before abe blood was spilled, no one bothered to look at you. seeing you as another lap dog for the minatozakis, conditioned to become a pawn for their bidding. but since the events, it seems people are paying attention. the rumors of the death of both brothers at your hands spreading like a forest fire. causing hushed whispers and fear in those that know nothing of your background. 

you’re brought out of your thoughts when sana places a hand on your lower back, gently bringing you back to the present. giving her a kiss as you offer your hand for a dance. pulling her onto the dancefloor, weaving past on-lookers and those already dancing across the waxed murals floor. finding an empty space towards the middle. bringing your hand around her waist and intertwining your other hand with hers, giving her a nod as you both start dancing. you twirl her with your hand, watching the way her hand flows along with her. you don’t know it but couples around you have left the dance floor, instead watching her elegance with every step. instead you’re focused on her satisfied smile as you continue to keep in time with her steps. letting her dance around you, pulling her back in for a quick dip of her body. applause from all directions hitting your ears. you smile widely as you pull her back up. taking a deep bow with her, clapping still filling the dance floor.

she looks radiant like this, face shining under the lights, a genuine smile as she takes in the applause, even doing a quick spin for the theatrics. you laugh before offering your hand once more, walking away from the dancefloor. the couples that once were dancing finding their places once more.

“you never asked me to dance when we were kids. i didn’t know you could dance like that.” she says handing you a drink from one of the circulating waiters. 

“didn’t want to ask you then.” you explain, continuing to down the smooth amber liquid, the strength of the liquid hitting your senses. “thought you were stuck up.” immediately she hits your arm, the one holding the cup, you watch the liquid slosh up the sides, nearly spilling over. 

moving it away from your body as she stares at you, jaw hanging at the words. “you did not just say that.” she says, folding her arms over the other, staring you down.

“i never tell lies sweetheart.” you grin downing the rest of your drink before she could slap the cup out of your hand. laughing lightly as you just offer her a forehead kiss instead. 

“i was not stuck up.”

you just laugh, placing the cup onto a tray, giving a small thank you to the waiter before focusing on your wife once more.

“sana, you’re the heiress to the biggest japanese conglomerate family, and you want to convince me you’re not stuck up?” you challenge her, amusement dripping through the words.

“even if i was, you can’t say that i am. i’m your wife so that means that i’m always right.” she says with finality. you don’t have it in you to argue with her, reassuring her that it was all a big joke. her arms still folded as you try and hug her. you continue to pester her until you feel a tap on your shoulder. immediately turning around and keeping sana behind you, a hand keeping her away from whoever tapped you.

in front of you is a man and a woman. both their face stoic and strange tattoos along the side of their face. relaxed posture and open hands, dark purple kimonos, a fan in the woman’s hand. their crest upon the fan. you step backwards.

“hello.” you offer. the woman continues to stare at you, eyeing your outfit and particularly focused on the minatozaki pin you have on. stopping her fanning before starting up again. sana stands next to you, staring at the pair in front of you instead.

“it’s nice to finally put a face to all the rumors.” the man’s deep voice hitting your ear it’s raspy like a smoker’s and rumbly. he looks away from you towards sana. “sana minatozaki, it’s been a while.” he offers his hand, sana’s outstretched as he presses a soft kiss to her hand.

“yukio ito. it’s been a while.” she pulls her hand away from his hand, his eyes glancing up, a small grin as he continues to stay bending down. the woman stops her fanning, closing it quickly.

“i’ve missed you sana-chan.” the woman says, her eyes lighting up in that feigned smile, offering a hug to sana, watching the way she lightly touches sana. you feel your hair standing up. 

“yuri, it’s been a while.” sana offers, more bite to her words than you expected. yukio fixes himself back up while yuri starts fanning herself again. 

this feels like meeting the abe brothers all over again.

“taking down the abe brothers yourself and you married sana? what can’t you do?” he laughs out, grabbing a cigar from his pocket, lighting it in front of you. the scarring of his hand apparent, running zig zag lines all over. you watch the line of smoke floating up.

“i’m flattered you think that.” you say returning back to his face. 

sana steps closer to you, slipping her fingers in between yours, standing toe to toe against the ito siblings. he takes another cigar out of his pocket, offering it to you. 

“i apologize, but i don’t smoke.” you return it back to him, watching the way he stuffs it back into his pocket. 

“how proper, can kill two men with your hands but doesn’t smoke.” he laughs with his sister. you just nod and let them laugh away. “i like that, come have a drink with us sometime.” he says before turning away with his sister. 

watching them disappear into the crowd. letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as sana squeezes your hand.

“never thought i’d see her again.” sana mumbles to herself.

“why?”

“she disappeared to thailand years ago, way before we got married. said she was going to elope with this model that she found there. never heard from her since.” sana explains, pulling you towards her mother and her kids.

“i’m assuming you were close?” you say, continuing to walk next to her.

“my best friend actually, well before she disappeared.” she says, and you both arrive in front of her mother. haruto and hanako are dancing in the circle. wild movements and swinging arms everywhere as they enjoy the music.

“do you miss her?” you whisper to sana. continuing to watch your kids playfully dance with cheers from the older women. 

“not at all, one of my exes cheated on me with her for months. i only found out because mina caught them together.” she explains. you nod and go back to watching your kids. “that and she also stole money from me.”

“sorry to hear that, dear.” you say, patting your shoulder for her.

“it’s okay, it’s in the past.” you nod, letting her lay her head on your shoulder. watching the children fondly. 

sana’s mother admires the safety that you bring to her daughter.  a comfort in her heart finally easing in, knowing that she made the right decision approaching you all those years ago.

 then she turns on her heels rounding towards the stage. and immediately the music goes quiet, turning heads towards the platform. 

“thank you all for joining me tonight,” quick claps of applause before she moves along the stage. circulating across the platform, the lights shifting as she moves around. “i’d like to propose a toast!”

she grabs a drink from the tray behind her.

“to the future of the minatozakis!” she turns her head towards you, pointing the glass tipped your way. a light being shown on you and sana. you pull yourself closer to sana, pointing your glass towards the older woman.

everyone grabs their glass, and you cheers your in the air towards her. a loud harmonious cheer of ‘to the minatozakis!’ can be being heard as everyone takes a drink. loud claps following as she exits off the stage once more. 

sana kisses your cheek, intertwining your fingers once more. handing you her glass. you place the cups down on the table, taking sana’s too.

“i wanted to ask you something.” sana says, taking your hands in hers as she pulls you away from the main hall, taking one more glance at haruto and hanako still by their grandmother.

“what is it, honey?” she continues to lead you away from the main hall, there’s a few people lingering outside the doors but other than that’s its quiet. you continue down the hall with sana’s heels hitting the floor as she guides you to a meeting room. closing the door behind her and returning back to your side.

“do you want to have another kid?” your eyes immediately widen, thinking back to how scared your kids were in that room. that dreaded room, you hope to never see those crying eyes again.

“i do, but i’m scared sana.” you explain. there’s nothing more that you want but knowing the horrors that could have been inflicted on your family, you’re scared to bring another life into this family.

“scared of what?” she whispers gently, tucking your hair behind your ear. watching the way your eyes are so unfocused and lost in your thoughts.

all you can see is your hands covered in blood from then, your own children’s wails filling the air as you stare at a dead kaito abe. blooding spilling from his own shirt onto the ground. the dreams of everyone around you dying, without you being able to save them. stuck behind a barrier from those you care more than anything about.

“i’m scared i won’t be able to save them.” you exhale, dropping into a chair. “won’t be able to save the kids, won’t be able to save you.”

she shakes her head, dropping to her knees, watching the ways your shoulders sag as you lean back. concern filled eyes searching for yours, “but you did, you saved us. you saved the kids, you saved my own life.” she says dropping into your lap.

“you saved me, more than you could ever know.” she says kissing you softly, bringing you out from your vortex of thoughts. 

“but what if i can’t save them?” you counter, worried about the new threats that now exist just because the abes are dead. there’s newer powers to worry about. 

“you will, because i know you. you would save them even if you were on your last breath” she says confidently. you don’t challenge her on it, even if you were on your last leg you would still fight with everything in you to protect this family, to protect this marriage and your kids.

“i would do anything to save them, i just have dreams that i can’t save them.” you explain, letting her understand the night terrors that you’ve been experiencing since that day. she nods, she never step foot into the room, but she knows enough to be glad she never was there. 

“you can save them, i know it.” she says. and you nod, pulling her into a kiss as well. everything that’s been taken from you in your life, you have grown from it. learning to adapt to the circumstances that have been dealt. you can grow from this too, not letting the potential fear that festers in your brain stopping you from achieving the next step in life. 

“so another kid?” you say in a teasing voice.

“yes?”

“let’s have another kid then.” tickling her lightly as she erupts into giggles.

there’s no one else you’d rather live this life with. having sana by your side every day is a dream you didn’t know you had until now. to love and to cherish sana minatozaki with everything in you.

--

a/n: and it's finisheddd!!!! thank you to everyone who read this series frfr. and a special thank you to @cry4mina for always listening to me talk about my troubles with writing and giving me ideas. i hope this epilogue was a nice fluffy finish to such a dramatic story LOL. and for @d3viant0n3 this one's for you. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

#sana #twice #twice sana #sana twice #sana minatozaki #minatozaki sana #sana x reader #sana x you #kpop imagines #twice x reader #twice x you #neoplatinum

[cinomn]

yard work isn’t always work

warnings: mature content. matty x fem!reader. does this even make sense? idk. yardman matty lol ;) i didn’t proofread omg

note: im so rusty sorry. also it’s just super blurbish as the story goes on. i’m done ignoring this blog (maybe).

you shuffled down the stairs. the sunlight was bright, streaming through every window you passed, no matter which side of the house you were on.

following the sounds of dishes rattling, you groaned your way into the kitchen and slid bonelessly into a chair at the bar. you threw a disdainful glance at the window, the persistent sound of someone mowing the lawn grating on your nerves.

"isn't it too early to be up? what time is it, anyway?" you asked, rubbing your palm over your eyes and blinking at your mother where she stood at the stove.

“you know it’s the yardman,” her voice lilting with good-natured sarcasm. she pulled a plate from the cupboard, "want some eggs while i'm dishing?"

you hummed, not really sure if your stomach was ready for food yet, but ended up nodding anyway. "okay."

your mother scooped a tall pile of scrambled eggs onto a plate, topped them with a piece of buttered toast that slid off the eggs. she slid it toward you. as soon as the scent of the breakfast wafted around you, your salivary glands kicked in, ravenous.

you’d shoveled several bites into your mouth, pausing to rip off pieces of cooling toast. “thank you for this," you mumbled around another mouthful of food.

your mother smiles, her wrinkles prominent and jutting in her skin. she pulls bottled water from the fridge, and quickly foils an egg sandwich placing it next to you. “who’s this for?” you pick up the sandwich, warm off the cool marble. “the yardman, he’s been working on the lawn since six.” you shoot her a petulant look letting the foiled food drop on the bar. your mother unties her apron pulling it off her neck. “give it to him will you? i’ll be back i have errands to run.”

you groan at your mother shoving more egg into your mouth sulking at the thought of having to step outside.

•

you slide the glass doors open, stepping onto the patio searching for the man. your father pays this man to landscape, garden and even clean the pool. you’ve caught glimpses of him here and there but you’ve never spoken to him. in hand is a dripping water bottle, the condensation leaks down your wrist onto your elbow and you wipe at it stepping bare onto the grass. you hear the sound of mowing still, this time near your side of the house where your room resides. you move through the grass peaking out from the corner of the house which shields you.

you see him there, pushing the lawnmower. he’s in a fitted tank top, tattoos galore they peak out from his chest littering his flexed arms. his overgrown curls are falling onto his face, and he lets out pants rubbing the sweat from his forehead onto his jeans. you hope he sees you and stops the mower as you’re not too keen on yelling over it. the man moves the mower closer to the clean patches of fresh grass that you occupy and quickly turns off the motor. you step closer to him awkwardly in your pajamas his food in hand.

“my mom made this for you,” you step closer to the man. he’s scanning your body for a long while until he speaks up. “thank you,” he clears his throat taking the items from your hand. when he takes the breakfast you wipe the last droplets off your arm, feeling exposed in your shorts. “um - yeah,” you gulp taking a step back. “you’re welcome.” you choke out backing away from the man’s gaze hopefully in the direction of the sliding door leading inside. you watch his lips turn into a crooked grin, twisting the bottle cap’s seal open.

•

“mom what’s his name anyway,” you snort out. your hand is cupping your chin in support as you look out the screen window. your mother is hunched over struggling to pull dinner out of the oven with mitts. she sighs asking you to set out a board to place the rotisserie on. “who hun?” you hop off the bar stool to rummage through the bottom cupboards for a board. you find a wooden one sliding it onto the marble in front of your mom as she places dinner on it to cool. she discards her mitts into the drawer, digging for cutlery. “the man that works on the yard,” you spit out trying to hide your embarrassment. you pick at your lips knawing at them raw. “i think it’s matthew? matty? maybe, i don’t know your father knows.” she shrugs stabbing into the chicken’s breast.

you nod releasing your lips from your teeth.

•

the next morning you awaken to the lul of the lawnmower. you scowl rolling out of bed and the sun meets you just as you push your curtains out of the way. you squint letting your eyes adjust to the man, he’s pushing the mower towards your window. he has sunglasses on today, and you’re confused as to why he’s mowing the lawn for the second time this week. you bang on your window catching his attention as he continues trudging the mower across the grass with a grin.

you roll your eyes stomping to the screen door in the kitchen quickly sliding it open to find him obnoxiously mowing parts of the grass closest to your window. “do you mind?” you shout at him from the patio. he flicks his sunglasses up revealing his daunting stare accompanied with a seamy smile. “im sorry, princess did i wake you?” he taunts as he tucks his glasses in the plaid pocket letting them hang from his button up. you roll your eyes crossing your arms over your breasts, “it’s rude you know? mowing right next to my window when i’m sleeping. my daddy is paying you after all.” your lips part with a huff scanning his attire.

hes covered in grass clippings and sweat. the bits cover his neck and arms that are freckled with sun spots. he’s dressed in denim and a wife beater under his green plaid which tucks into his jeans. his hair is scattered with grey along with some stubble coming in. you can tell he’s taking you in as well. his stare is gaping tearing into your heart and heat. you squeeze your legs together, and he stays staring with a knowing grin. “your daddy is paying me to clean up the yard, not worry about interrupting your beauty sleep.” he emphasizes the word daddy and you feel your heat pool from inside. you can feel the wrinkles on your forehead form and you squeeze your arms tighter around your chest before huffing.

“whatever, i’ll just tell my dad to fire your ass.” you mumble under your breath turning to the sliding door. you hear matty start up the motor with a whir and it’s running. he starts trudging forward with a grin, “counting on it,” he calls out over the mower. you step inside letting the cool tile invade your soles. you spin around furiously slamming the sliding door pulling the curtain leaving matty in the heat outside.

•

the next day matty is there as expected, tending to the pool. he’s scooping insects and weed clippings from the water tossing them overhead. you decided to go out for some rays with a book you’ve been putting off for a while. you rest in the chair nearest to the pool, holding the book open to your face. the words melt into your head overwhelmed by matty’s constant scooping and plopping of the pool net. “will you quit that?” you call out placing the book on your abdomen shielding your face from the sun. “it’s annoying.” you complain and matty’s on the other side of the pool just dipping the net back in, he clicks his tongue continuing.

you groan loudly, shutting your eyes listening to matty dip and splash around the pool’s surface. he moves across the pool at this time nearer to you and you take a look at him. he’s in his usual uniform a tank top and denim nothing too special. you watch his tattoo’s in the sun and his arms flex with every dip. matty turns with a grin over his shoulder knowingly - he’s got you. your skin prickles with unexpected excitement and you find the silence filled with your heart pounding in your throat.

matty takes a look at your splayed body, almost freshly tan in the tiniest bikin he’s ever seen. he’s an older man, the looks feel dirty coming from him. his toothy grin says it all when he leaves your side. he takes the tool out of the pool walking across the lawn to the tool shed.

the shed was tucked away in the corner of your backyard always forgotten by your father and mother. you watch matty make his way over opening the shed to rummage through it with clashes.

you lift yourself up off the chair, letting your toes touch the pavement of the side of the pool. matty’s left the shed door open and you peer into it from where you sit just across the yard. you lift yourself off the chair scurrying over to the freshly cut grass, the pieces gather on your ankles tickling you. almost skipping over to the shed you pry inside and matty finds you. he lunges at you slamming you against the other side of the shed, it rattles with a few tools falling over behind matty as he swings the door shut.

“fuckin’ slut, think you can prance around in this?” matty hooks a finger in your bottoms pulling at the bow letting it snap back to your hip. you wince bracing your chest with a whine. your heat pools, as matty holds your hips pinching at them harshly. he pulls at your bikini top almost ripping it off you and you hold onto the fabric writhing with him. he tugs at the middle of the bikini with a finger watching it snap back with your tits. “your body’s perfect.” he latches onto your neck trailing kisses never daring to leave a mark.

your legs squeeze together for pressure and matty tuts prying them open with his knee. he grins, pulling at the bows of your bottoms watching them drop to the plywood floor. he slides his fingers across your opening watching your face light up and your body fall into his. he lets a finger slide in working his way into you slowly. “fuckin’ wet cunt, wet for me?” he breathes out sliding another finger in and you’re moaning, hiding in his neck. his fingers slip out of you leaving you vacant as you huff. matty gives your cunt a slap, then another and you yelp. “whats that for?!” you cry out and your pussy clenches.

you tremble and he pulls his hand away to slap your pussy again. “you like me doing this, huh?” he swipes at your puffy clit, finally giving you what you’ve been wanting. “tell me, princess. you had a lot to say just now,” he refers to the pool and you shake your head while matty takes your jaw puppeteering you to look at him. he squeezes your lips together with pressure, “come on,” he clicks his tongue swiping faster.

“i- fuck. i love it” you mutter out disjointedly, “and what else?” he cocks his eyebrows holding back a grin. “‘m sorry,” you sputter out finally and matty’s fingers leave your clit. you cry at the feeling, just as you’re about to finish all over his hand - he stops.

he takes a step back unbuckling his belt with force letting it jingle for a while until he’s undone his button and zipper. he looks at you smugly “you wanna cum? get on your knees,” he slides his jeans down with his boxers cupping his erection. you’re surprised but still you fall to your knees where you stand, almost on fours crawling to matty’s feet where you sit back on your achilles tendons. he’s pushing his cock at your nose and lips letting it take the tint off your lips. you sit there with your hands on your knees looking up at him diligently waiting for him, as he’s pumping his cock in front of you.

you watch him slide his hand back and forth thumbing at his tip, groaning. you pout with your prettiest whine sticking your pink tongue out flashing it at matty. he breathes out pushing his cock onto your face again and you oblige opening your mouth sticking out your tongue for him. he slaps his cock onto your tongue pushing it back into your mouth. “put this dirty mouth to use,” he stifles out hitting the back of your throat and your throat rejects him sabotaging you. matty coos petting your head as his cock twitches in your mouth finding it’s space in between your swirling tongue. his hands end up at the back of your head slowly pushing his cock back into your mouth deeper, “dirty girl,” he moans and you gag again tears forming in your eyes. matty starts bucking slowly into your mouth holding your head in place. with every buck your throat rejects his cock until you’ve grown used to it, you start swirling your tongue at his length when you can and his hips stifle sloppily pushing into your mouth even more. you try your best to open wide, your jaw is slack and sore you almost think it’s locked with how long you’ve had it open.

your tears are dry now because matty swiped them away as soon as they came sliding down your scarlet cheeks. “you take this cock well,” matty grunts out slowing down for your poor mouth. you’re drooling at the sides of your mouth and you feel shame as it drops to your knees. “taking my cock in the shed like a whore, fuckin’ perfect,” matty’s words make you whine and he’s shuddering inside your mouth from the vibrations of your moans “gonna make me come, god” matty’s head falls back with his mouth ajar and your heart races with anticipation. you start bobbing your head eagerly letting matty’s hands fall in your hair gently grasping at it. you watch matty’s face contort with a whine releasing into your mouth, your eyes widen pulling him out of your mouth immediately to taste his cum.

your jaw is aching, pounding almost and you roll matty’s cum onto your tongue to show him proudly. he’s still in a haze looking down at your face, ruined as you swallow his cum. he stands you up reaching down with his calloused hand tugging at your jaw and you oblige standing to your feet. you look down at your knees, they’re wobbly and raw from the wood of the shed’s flooring. you wince and matty pulls you in for a peck, “poor girl,” he whispers pushing you back onto a work bench. the bench rattles with your father’s tools and matty grins. he guides you to flip over, pushing the rest of your body down onto the splintered wood.

matty squeezes at your waist and hips pawing at your ass giving it a strike. you whine eagerly standing on your tiptoes poking your ass out further and matty chuckles grabbing a handful of you to guide himself in. with his other hand he takes his cock to tease your slit, he staggers only clutching your ass tighter. “so wet, princess” matty mumbles under his breath, only for him to hear but it travels to your ears then straight to your gushing heat.

you anticipate matty’s length as he slowly pushes inside your entrence, you tense and he pinches your hips meanly. he drives himself into you and you gasp adjusting to him pressing your body against the split wood of the table. your legs buckle together and matty starts digging into your cunt, it’s sloppy and wet with him slipping out each time he pulls his cock back. matty observes his cock, slick with your heat before pushing it back in acquiring a moan from you. “fuck me, please.” you cry pressing onto matty’s front in desperation.

he smiles, “so drunk for this cock, i’m already inside you, princess” he growls draping over your body. matty’s buzzing and you jut your ass back at him to start moving. he removes himself from your backside, groaning when he starts drilling into you again. your fingers turn white pressing onto the table in desperation for something to hold onto. “what would your daddy do if he found me doing this to you?” he hums, grabbing a handful of your hair. your head rushes with humiliation and you clench around matty’s cock. “probably fire me, right? you’d never get fucked like this again.” you think about what it would be like to get caught and your body sinks. your father’s little girl turned into a whore by the yardman.

“your little body’s begging for me,” matty’s ramblings snaps you out of your thoughts as he pulls your hair gently and you’re whining again, letting him do as he pleases. “cunt is aching for me, can feel it” he hisses tugging on your hair and this time you cry out. “god, angel you like when i talk to you like this?” matty chokes out repeatedly slamming into you and you try to nod in agreement “makes me feel dirty,” you whimper and matty snickers letting your hair go tracing his fingers over your neck then your tits. he quickly squeezes at them in their covering letting his fingers trace across your ribs gently. your body itches with bliss, as you find a way to dig yourself deeper into the tool table to present yourself to matty.

“wanna come,” you babble matty’s name and his hand slides down to your clit while fucking into you. he swipes diligently pushing you over the edge as you cry out into the shed’s interior. you feel yourself cum all over matty’s cock and he growls “came all over this cock, good girl.” he keeps pumping into you, rubbing at your bud and you spasm out of sensitivity. “stop, stop, please -“ you smother another moan as matty surrenders leaving your clit alone. your body isn’t coming down as matty still bucks into you with sputtering hips. he lasts not even a minute longer slipping out of your cunt to cum onto your backside. you feel hot spurts on your lower back and you look over your shoulder to see matty fisting his cock for what’s left. he sighs contentedly spotting the cum on your back as he lifts up his boxers tucking his cock into his underwear then jeans.

he scavenges for your bottoms on the floor and you turn to him as he hands them to you. he watches you slip back into them tying the bows on each side. putting the bottoms back on feel dirty, especially with matty’s orgasm all over your back. you frown at him and he steps towards you, petting your head. he runs his fingers through your knotty hair clasping the back of your head for a peck on your forehead. matty hums massaging your head, “sweet girl,” as he plants another kiss unraveling his hand from your hair. he steps back taking a deep look at you before he leaves,

“tell your daddy,” he hesitates grinning, only to tease you. “that i’ll be here at six tomorrow morning to tend to the weeds out front.”

#matty healy #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #the 1975 smut #matty healy x you #matty healy fic #the 1975 fanfic #this is trash fuck

[thebisexualdogdad]

hey! its my birthday, so i was wondering if you could do how the one piece characters act on their s/o’s birthday?

Luffy -

● goes all out for you

● birthdays are his favorite thing to celebrate

● he decorates the ship with anything festive he can find

● makes the day all about you

● telling everyone you meet on whatever island you are docked at that it's your birthday

● and he makes all the strawhats sing you happy birthday over cake (that Sanji made but Luffy put the candles in so he helped)

Nami -

● navigates the ship to an island that is known for being super touristy

● saved up money to spend on all the cheesy activities they have available

● it may not be her idea of fun but she's just happy to see you happy

● pays the maitre d at the fanciest restaurant on the island to pretend like you guys have a reservation

● and you get a very expensive meal that even Sanji would be jealous of

Sanji -

● wakes you up with breakfast in bed

● he thinks birthdays are best spent being lazy and not doing anything

● insists on a birthday nap

● maybe more than one birthday nap

● has a very elegant dinner and desert planned that smells so good he made Luffy and Usopp get off the ship so they wouldn't be tempted to steal some

Zoro -

● very casual about birthdays

● doesn't go overboard but still sentimental

● he gets you a really personal gift

● the others would make fun of him for being so soft so he gives it to you in private

● and he plans a day out with the crew so you'd feel special surrounded by your friends

Usopp -

● the best gift giver (well maybe not the best exactly but surely the most enthusiastic gift giver)

● he's been planning your gift for months collecting supplies from all the islands you've visited finally putting it all together

● “ta-da!” he says doing the big reveal

● you don't totally know what it is but you can tell he is so proud of how hard he worked on it so you light up and tell him it's perfect

Shanks -

● has a romantic day planned

● makes a picnic to eat on the shore while watching the waves

● then you go out on his rowboat and swim in the ocean

● he brings you back for some drinks and a candlelit dinner at the bar which he convinced Ririka to shut down for the night

● overall just a really nice and relaxing day

Buggy -

● pretends he forgot

● Literally goes all day without saying anything to you

● you guys are walking back to the performance tent and he says “I feel like I'm forgetting something today”

● “are you serious Buggy??”

● he just grins and opens the door to the tent and it's a huge party for you

● “you didn't think I'd really forget do you? I would never pass up an opportunity for a party”

Mihawk -

● actually forgets

● but to be fair he doesn't really care about birthdays to begin with

● he couldn't even tell you his own birthday

● but he doesn't want you to feel like he doesn't care about your feelings so as soon as it gets mentioned he goes out and gets you flowers and a simple gift

#one piece imagine #monkey d luffy imagine #monkey d luffy x reader #nami imagine #nami x reader #sanji imagine #sanji x reader #roronoa zoro imagine #roronoa zoro x reader #shanks imagine #shanks x reader #buggy imagine #buggy x reader #dracule mihawk imagine #dracule mihawk x reader #x gender neutral reader #preferences

[disneyprincemuke]

the kind of book you can't put down

alternatively: do you want me or not? (prev)

in which the thought of settling down and being with her scares him more than anything in the world, but he can’t seem to steer away from the thought of ‘them’

(series masterlist)

so maybe logan fucked up. did he mess this all up for him and the potential love of his life? he's sitting across the dinner table, head down to feign his attention on his phone screen but his eyes are on her and the random guy that joined them for dinner.

he kissed her, for god's sake. and what kind of a reaction was that from him afterwards? a smile and then to hurl in front of the biggest crush you've ever had in your life is hardly appropriate. it's even worse now that he's avoided her all day and openly flirted with someone else while they were on the yacht for a couple of drinks earlier.

logan swore to himself a couple of weeks ago that she didn't deserve to play his games. if there was anything about starting to like your best friend, it was the sudden realisation that they don't deserve to be treated like the other girls you'd been with before.

he knows she deserves better than what he's doing right now. but admittedly, he got scared of the potential fallout with her. he's really found the bestest friend in her through the years they grew up together. he had to sit himself down this morning to figure out if it was worth risking their friendship for something more.

he watches her cover her mouth to giggle. he contemplates for a couple of seconds: does he want to watch this or should he just gouge his eyes out with the spoon on his plate?

he did want to approach her this morning at breakfast. when she was at the long table buffet waiting for some scrambled eggs - she looked very pretty in the maxi dress she'd bought specifically for this vacation, and it scared him.

he's always been more of a touch-and-go kind of person. thinking about laying with her innocently while they engaged in pillow talk terrified him.

"murder on your mind?" xyriel snorts, leaning towards him with a sly grin. "i've noticed how you've been looking at her for a couple of minutes now."

"i wasn't looking," logan quickly denies, sending his friend a weird look. "it's just weird having a stranger eating dinner with us. i'm not paying for his dinner."

"we know," xyriel grins, following his gaze. she presses her lips together. "but you used to bring girls with us to dinner. what makes hers any different?"

"nothing," logan lies with an innocent shrug. "i just think he is weird."

xyriel stifles a giggle, instead pursing her lips to not let out that everyone knows more than they actually do. "dude, you've got something for her or what?"

"what?" logan scoffs, turning to her with disbelief on his face. "the hell did you get that from? she's my best friend."

"you're just being a little odd," xyriel points out. "and, i've never seen you jealous before."

"i'm not jealous."

"really? you're going to lie to me? you're literally my biggest partner in crime when it comes to picking up girls at bars, and you're going to tell me that i don't know when you like somebody?"

"i don't like her. and i'm not jealous."

xyriel presses her lips together and throws her arms up into the air to surrender. "okay, fine. whatever you say. you don't like her, whatever. get back to me when you're done being indenial."

"xyriel!"

"what?" xyriel laughs, rolling her eyes. "you want to choose this hill to die on tonight, so i'll leave you alone until you're ready to face the facts."

he glances at them one more time. with another roll of his eyes, he shifts in his seat to sit up and start eating his dinner once more. but all he can think about is her lips on his.

she sighs, kicking at the gravel from the cobblestone pathway that leads to their villa. she excused herself from the restaurant early; all the half hearted flirting with some random guy she'd met on the yacht earlier proving to be a lot more draining than she thought.

while she liked the attention and the compliments that were spewing from his mouth, even she knew that it was all just a ruse to get into her pants and she's just not interested in him like that. she had let him down easy when he insisted to walk her back here.

he easily understood and kind of snorted, pointing out that it's obvious that she's got a thing for logan.

the area surrounding their villa is quiet - she'd specifically requested for one that provides them a bit more privacy.

she walks back and forth the pathway leading to their front door, swaying as she plays with the maxi skirt she's decided to put on for dinner. she hops over every other tile then twirling slightly before repeating the same actions up and down the stones. if someone were to see her, they might think that she's crazy.

all she can think of is the way logan had kissed her last night and the way his lips tasted against her.

but every time she starts to swoon at the possibility of falling in love with one of the people who know her best, the image of him pressed up against another girl in her bikini flashes through her mind. it's been bringing her to the edge of tears just imagining what they'd done when they disappeared into the far back of the yacht alone.

she's only ever been with one guy; someone she barely even dated for six months when she was sixteen. it could hardly even be considered a relationship with the way that it had gone.

logan's been with many girls, be it relationships or just simply hooking up with them. maybe she should just accept the fact that she will eventually just turn into one of logan's girls.

but how do you move past that after being friends for ages?

"oh, i thought you'd be asleep by now." she plants her feet into the cobblestone she's just jumped on, slumping her shoulders as her eyes drift to the reflection of the intrusion on the sliding glass door that leads into the villa. "i didn't expect you'd still be awake."

she sucks in a shakey breath when she realises that logan is not alone while approaching the villa. she turns around and forces a smile to her face, her hair landing on one shoulder. "i was just doing some thinking. the villa is yours - don't let me intrude on your alone time."

she carefully eyes the unnamed girl clinging onto logan's arm, body pressed up behind him with a grin on her face. it's a different girl from earlier. seems that her predictions are absolutely right: he might not have even remember the kiss in the first place.

all of these are just in her head.

"actually, i think i'll just join them for some drinks. they're still at the bar, right?" she smiles, pointing in the direction that they'd just approached from.

"no, it's fine," logan smiles with a shakey breath. he turns around to say something to the girl he's with. she can hear her protesting softly and then logan uses a firm voice to answer her. eventually, the girl gives up and simply turns on her heel and walks away.

"what, you lost your hardon when you realised you couldn't shag her in peace or something?" she scoffs, watching the girl walk away and logan turns to face her. "my bad for staying awake past my bedtime. i hope i didn't cost you the love of your life."

logan furrows his eyebrows, hands on his hips. he doesn't necessarily appreciate her words but he knows that he deserves her mean streak. "shut up. you know i'm not like that."

"yeah, now more than ever," she laughs dryly, muttering under her breath as she turns away. "can't believe i kissed you back."

logan tilts his head. "sorry, what was that?"

"i said i can't believe that i kissed you back, you big dumb fucking idiot," she scolds, turning back to him. "i can't believe that i even thought you genuinely liked me back! well, now i know."

"know what?" yes, he is playing dumb. but it seems like the better option to go with rather than having to look her in the eye and crumble at the thought of them being together.

"that i'm just one of your girls," she sighs, throwing her arms into the air slightly. she shakes her head with a small smile on her face. "you think you know someone."

hearing her say that made logan feel guiltier. he genuinely does like her. days leading up to this trip, he couldn't get her out of his mind. all he could think of was holding her hand and doing everything he swore he wouldn't be caught doing with somebody until he was much older.

he would find himself lying awake at 2am thinking of her and all the places that he wants to bring her to. she makes him want to settle down and that thought scares him.

"for the record, i never want to talk to you again after this trip," she scoffs, stepping up towards the villa. she grabs her phone from the patio table and aggressively slides the glass door open. "i don't know who you think you are kissing me and then pretending like it didn't happen. i'm not going to allow myself to be one of the girls you fuck around with, logan. i'm not playing your games."

"oh, so you really messed up big time."

it's 5am. everybody but her is gathered at the dining table of their villa, wide awake from the coffee they decided to consume at midnight at the resort cafe.

oscar and lily arrived first, finding logan sitting on the front porch steps with his head in his hands in damn near tears. lily stepped up and asked him if something bad had happened and he tried his best to recount their interaction to the couple.

twenty minutes later, xyriel and leia joined them in hushed whispers and chips on the table. they've been here ever since.

"i know," logan rolls his eyes. "ugh, why did i kiss her? i never should have kissed her!"

"actually," xyriel perks up. "why did you kiss her?"

"have you looked into her eyes? i swear they're hypnotising!" logan tries to contain his yell, afraid that he might be the one to wake her from her slumber. "she was practically asking me to kiss her!"

"i hope you realise how fucking stupid you sound right now." logan follows the sound of the voice, seeing lily sipping on her water with her chin tucked in and eyes shot up to glare at him. "are you telling me that you're blaming her for all of this when you're the one that's been avoiding her?"

"no," logan whines, throwing his head back. he rubs his face roughly then drops his elbows against the wooden material. "god, she's just so pretty. i couldn't hold myself back from kissing her."

oscar raises an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with xyriel that's already giggling audibly. "you? have no self control?" he gasps. "no way."

"have you kissed her?" logan scolds, lifting his head to furrow his eyebrows at oscar. "exactly! you don't know what it's like! when i kissed her, i thought 'oh, god, i'm kissing my best friend'. and then she kissed me back! and i swear to you, our entire future played in my mind! like i knew i wanted to spend the rest of my life with her!"

"you're in love with her?" leia's eyes widen. "are you kidding?"

"i'm not in love with her!"

"i'm pretty sure you are," xyriel points out knowingly, slamming her palm on the table. "nobody thinks of the future with somebody if they're not in love with them!"

"is that why you hurled right after you kissed her?" lily frowns, disgust washing over her face. "you got scared at the thought of settling down with a girl?"

"not just any girl, come on!" logan cries, slamming the table softly. he pushes himself up, the seat dragging against the ground as he stands. "my best friend!" he turns to oscar. "our best friend! we literally had her period cycle memorised at some point!"

"gross." leia turns to oscar with a questioning stare.

"hey, we lived in her house. it was impossible to not know," oscar defends himself, rolling his eyes. "you're telling me you can't tell when she's got her period?"

"i guess you have a point."

"focus!" logan cries, throwing his head back in frustration. "guys, we're in the same sport too! what if that gets in the way? we both have our hopes and dreams - i can't risk that getting in the way of what we have."

"i hardly think that would be an issue," xyriel shrugs simply. "you're both adults. you should be able to put that aside and not let it affect a relationship."

"it could be worse," oscar agrees. "she could be an actress."

"what's that got to do with anything?" lily raises her eyebrow in confusion.

"i'm just saying it could be worse if she had to be paired up with men she'd have to be in love with," oscar shrugs with a small frown. "but i guess it's not that relevant to what we're talking about."

"that would be tougher, i suppose," xyriel whispers. she points at logan pacing back and forth, mumbling something about how this is all too much for someone like him. "i've never seen this guy jealous."

"i wasn't jealous!" logan says, turning to them. "guys, what do i do?"

"mate," oscar laughs, pointing at him and gestures at his state. "you're twenty years old. you should know what to do."

"thanks, that literally doesn't help me. at all."

"racing heartthrob doesn't know what to do with his feelings? that's interesting," leia grins, turning to xyriel with a nod. "but if (y/n) swore you off the way she did, there's not much we can do to help you. only you can say something to her to make this all better."

"you should know what to do. you guys fought a year ago, right?" logan frowns, tilting his head at leia. "what did you do?"

"i apologised," leia grins, pressing her lips together. "dude, our situations are completely different. you blew her off knowing she likes you. we fought over a school project and participation points. we are not the same."

"she expects a relationship out of me," logan says. "probably."

"actually, i suspect she wants to kill you more than get into a relationship with you right now," oscar points out with a teasing smirk. "but do carry on."

"i just don't know if i can give her that! i'm not one to settle down."

"what was that joke about guys getting their heart broken once then making it everyone's problem for the rest of their lives?" lily mutters, turning to xyriel with a smile.

"story of logan's life."

"if i knew you guys were going to be this unhelpful, i would have just called liam and asked him for advice."

"mate, he doesn't... he's not good at the advice either."

"exactly!"

"okay, dude," xyriel holds her hands out to halt all conversation. "it's easy. figure yourself out before you talk to her. when you do, tell her what's on your mind. explain it to her, and then apologise."

"what if she still doesn't want to remain friends? i don't want to lose her. she’s my best friend.”

“a little hurt,” oscar frowns with a hand to his heart.

lily shrugs. "consequences of your own actions."

“good morning,” she greets, the hem of her pyjamas dragging along the floor as she walks into the kitchen and dining area. “you’re making breakfast?”

“it’s noon, so technically lunch. i’m making eggs and bacon,” oscar mutters, craning his neck to look at her walk in. “scrambled or sunny side up for you?”

“i’m not hungry, thank you,” she smiles, walking over to him. she tiptoes with a hand to his back, cheeks touching as a greeting before she circles around him. “have they got a kettle? i want some tea.”

“bottom door next to the fridge,” lily speaks up, walking into the kitchen. “good morning everyone. have you guys seen xyriel anywhere? her door was left open.”

“she left to have breakfast at the restaurant with that one girl she met last night at the cafe,” oscar scoffs, leaning down to give a chaste kiss to his girlfriend that approaches him. “good nap?”

“cafe? you guys drank coffee last night?” the small girl scoffs, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she fills the kette with water. “what time did you turn in?”

“seven thirty,” oscar admits. “anyway, got anything planned today?” he exchanges a glance with lily, who pats his back as she passes him to navigate the kitchen for the fridge. “we’re going to the driving range to golf right after this.”

oscar finally scans her face, frowning when he notices her slightly puffy eyes and hoarse voice. had she cried before coming down for lunch?

“i’ll pass, thank you,” she grins politely. “i think i’m just going to stay in today. i’m not feeling like i wanna sweat.”

“oh, i think logan mentioned he didn’t feel like doing anything today either,” oscar lies. logan is actually joining them for golf. “doing anything together, perhaps? everything resolved?”

“no,” she frowns. “why, did he tell you anything?”

“no,” lily answers immediately. “joining us for golf then, i assume?”

she nods tiredly. “okay. could you make scrambled egg, then? i’ll go get my stuff ready.”

“oh, i thought you were staying in the villa this afternoon. i didn’t know you’d be here,” she mutters, arriving at the rendezvous oscar had told her to head to. “where are oscar and lily?”

“what? i was told you were staying in the villa today,” logan mutters, scrambling to sit up. he watches her carefully navigate the couch from the other end, opting to sit in the single seater couch far from him.

he scans her outfit, tilting his head. “made plans today?”

“oscar and lily asked me to join them at the driving range earlier,” she says, nodding with her lips pressed together. “have you seen them around? they asked me to meet at two — i’m five minutes late.”

“i don’t think i’ve seen them around,” logan shakes his head, pretending to look for the couple.

actually, she’d been avoiding him all morning. logan knocked on her door after he spent the better part of two hours thinking of what to say to her. she never answered the door.

after oscar made her lunch and he walked in to get some food for himself, she quickly excused herself to go back to her room, hanging her head low to avoid his longing gaze. which is exactly what they predicted would happen.

so oscar and lily started scheming once more.

true, the couple had planned to go to the driving range. but they decided to push it back a couple of hours to scheme for them.

“oh, then can you just let them know i’ll meet them at the driving range?” she smiles, standing up and dusting off her shorts. “if they happen to come by, of course. see you at dinner, logan.”

“okay, wait,” logan sighs, chasing after her. “can we talk? i really need to talk to you, i need to tell you why i kissed you.”

she smiles tiredly, tucking her chin in slightly. “let’s just forget it ever happened, okay? we’re on vacation; let’s not make it dramatic.”

“no, i don’t want to lose you,” logan frowns, taking her wrist into his hand. “please, let’s talk. there’s a couple of things i need to get off my chest. you’re my best friend.”

she rolls her eyes, smile still stuck on her face as she wiggles her wrist free from his grasp. “i just need some space, logan. you’re my best friend too — i didn’t mean what i said about never speaking to you again. but just give me some time.”

“just let me explain what went through my mind.” logan gently guides her back to sit on the couch, taking her hands into his. “i do have feelings for you. but-“

“but,” she emphasises, voice shaking as tears flood her eyes. “that’s exactly what i didn’t want to hear.”

“but if we get into a relationship, it’s going to complicate everything,” logan explains, shaking his head. “first off, we’ve practically lived together for 4 years. and then we’re in the same motorsport every time — i don’t want any of that to get in the way.”

“then why did you kiss me?” she swipes her hands from him and places it on her lap. she inches away from him slightly. “if you knew us getting involved with one another would get complicated, then why would you kiss me?”

“because i really do like you. but i don’t want to make things harder for us. we’re already in a cutthroat sport, moreso for yourself,” logan frowns, looking down to play around with his thumbs.

“and i wasn’t supposed to act on whatever feelings i’ve developed for you. but i looked into your eyes that night and,” he pauses to sigh and looks up to mert her eyes, “i just couldn’t help myself. i’ve been wanting to kiss you since we went to barcelona.”

“then why would you parade around with other girls after we kissed?” she asks, eyes trailing down to his nervous hands. “you made me feel so small, logan.”

“i got scared. you know me — i’m not typically a commitment type of guy,” he explains softly, reaching out hesitantly for her hand. “but you kissed me back and i felt something brewing in my stomach. something i’d never felt before about anyone. i’m terrified of whatever this is.”

she shakes her head. “i don’t understand,” she breathes. “are you saying that i’m not worth settling down for? is that how you see me, logan? after all these years; you don’t think i’m not the type of girl anyone should want to be better for?”

“no, i’m telling you i’m cowering away from how intense my feelings are for you. and i’m scared of ever hurting you,” he cooes. “i don’t ever want to hurt you. i don’t want to be the cause of your pain because of my ways. you know me — i’m not the best at relationships. i spent half of my life with oscar making sure you only receive the best.”

“so are you telling me you don’t want to be better for me?” a tear falls on her cheek, prompting logan to drop his head in shame. “that i’m not worth the trouble?”

“i didn’t mean it that way. i’m just explaining to you why i did what i did. please, just let me finish.”

“actually, i think i’ve heard enough,” she lets a sob pass her lips, a hand flying up to cover her mouth as more tears start rolling down her cheeks. she shakes her head as she starts to stand up. “honestly, logan, we would have been fine if you just let this fade away. but after hearing what you just said, i don’t want anything to do with you anymore. please just leave me alone.”

“okay, it’s because i think i’m in love with you,” logan spurts just as she turns around. she balls her fists by her side, freezing completely where she stands. “i know that i like you, but it’s scary because i think it’s more than just liking you.”

she turns around, furrowing her eyebrows. “you can’t just say that and think it will make all of this better.”

“i know it doesn’t. but whatever i feel, it’s bigger than me. i know the type of guy i want to be when i’m with you. nothing has ever been so clear to me,” logan rambles, taking a step forward.

she notes his step, mirroring it with a step backwards to maintain their distance. “you just said something else completely different to that.”

“give me a chance to show you, and i swear to you that i’ll love you proper,” logan breathes out. “no more games, no more push and pull, no more girls. just you and me.”

“and i’m supposed to believe you?”

“if you don’t, then it’s my fault. i never should have toyed around with your feelings in the first place,” logan shakes his head. “but if you give me a chance, i won’t ever fuck this up. i’ll be all yours. you will get the best parts of me and nothing less.”

she raises an eyebrow. “and oscar told you this was the way to go about this situation?”

“he gave me some advice.”

“it’s good advice,” she says softly with a small smile playing with her lips. she bites on the inside of her cheek. “no more girls? no more games? you promise?”

“i swear to you with my life,” logan smiles, taking a step forward. he puts his hands on her shoulders with a soft squeeze. “i will be the best boyfriend. i am only yours.”

“calm down. you’re not my boyfriend yet,” she mutters jokingly. “with the stunt you just pulled, you’ll be apologising to me for years to come.”

“i’ll apologise every single day,” logan smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. “can i take you out on a date when we get back to the uk?”

she purses her lips together, biting back the growing smile on her face. she toys with the hem of her tshirt and swiftly turns away. “i’ll think about it. see you at dinner, logan.”

“see you at dinner, babe.”

“stop that!”

— bonus

“i thought you said you weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend yet,” xyriel scowls, peeking through the small gap on the door that leads into logan’s room in the villa. “did you guys fuck?”

logan, his bare shoulder peeking through the blanket that covers the rest of his body, lifts his head. “no. go away.”

“i know you’re naked,” xyriel whispers, pointing at him accusingly.

“we didn’t fuck, go away,” logan whispers at her, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl to pull her into his body. “we just slept. you know, as normal wholesome couples do.”

“we’re not a couple,” the small girl says, eyes closed as she pulls logan’s arm around her tighter. “he asked me to sleep in his room last night and he brushed my hair until i fell asleep.”

“aw, logan, you big softie,” xyriel teases. “okay, whatever. i’ll leave you to it. we need to check out by noon — be ready by then.”

they bid their goodbyes to the older girl, leaving the room in silence. logan lifts his head, rubbing her bare shoulder. “good morning.”

she turns around, eyes barely open as she faces him. “good morning,” she grins. “kiss me again; i miss your lips.”

@myxticmoon @what-is-happening-helpp @angsthology @lfm98

#logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #female driver #fem!driver #f1 female driver #f1 x you #f1 #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke ial

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Trying To Derail My One Track Mind

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Part 1/2 Life was simple, till you met your boss.

Word Count: 3,300

No warnings till part 2

You wake up to see sun rays peeking through the curtains. Rolling over to face your fiancé you smile at his sleeping form, he looks so peaceful. Too bad you have to go to work and couldn’t just stay like this with him.

You would lie in bed all day with him, if that’s what he wanted. You reach out and pet his beard, pecking his lips before you get up to get ready for work.

You threw on your recycled outfit. Discerning no difference between the black skirt and white button up you wore yesterday. You pull on the dreaded pantyhose that were required for your uniform. Black or tan, you couldn’t express yourself at all.

You look in the mirror, tightly pulling your hair into a high ponytail, leaving out a strand to wrap around the elastic. Makeup was allowed, and recommended during your orientation. Guests prefer being hosted by someone who looks put together.

You work in the kitchen, managing the cooks and wait staff. Sometimes it felt like a real restaurant, and you dreamed of having your own one day. But with the pay you get from the manor, you won’t be following that dream anytime soon.

You give your fiancé one last kiss before you leave. Breakfast is served at 8am, so that means you should be in the kitchen by 6. Most of the people renting it out stroll in well after 9.

You always have to remake half of what you’ve already prepared, with a smile. The owner didn’t care about costs, or you. You never met him, just talked over the phone weekly.

You remember bringing up the food waste after a month of working. He laughed and said “It doesn’t matter what time I serve breakfast, they will find a way to be late. They’re paying, they know they have the luxury to be late.”.

Maybe he was one of them. He sure sounded like it. Like he agreed that money lets you by with things. The people that eat at your table get by with far more than you could imagine at the manor. You’ve been told more than once not to mention a thing that happens inside these walls.

Screams and gunshots have been heard. Guests walking around naked in masquerade masks. One guest brought his own meat, insisted on preparing it himself for everyone. You never saw anything like it, it wasn’t pork, beef, or venison, it reminded you of that page in your biology textbook with the skinless human body.

You don’t like to think about what happened before. The only way you can go back is to forget what happened the day before. You never felt fear, you couldn’t describe it. Like you were apprehensive of every new face you met, but they never snapped their fingers at you. You were never in the room when you heard fights happening, your staff was always well on their way home before dessert finished.

You stayed till the last dish was clean. They’re notified when all the staff goes home, because then there’s no one to wait on them. The bells in the kitchen fall on no ears at all. Leading no one to see which room is ringing.

You saw when they began to turn rowdy. Their drinks from dinner finally hitting them. Drunken debates often broke out, causing the last remaining person on staff to clean up broken glass and wine stains. They were always apologetic and moved the argument to a different room, leaving you alone to clean up their mess.

You sped down the country road, you were running late, today is New Year’s Eve, meaning you’d be staying the night here. You tried to go home last year, but you only spent an hour in bed with your fiancé before you had to return for breakfast.

The owner didn’t care that you had a personal life. Telling you no when you asked to take your paid leave, you told him your fiancé planned the trip as a surprise. Causing him to scoff and deny you again. You knew you should’ve quit then, but you didn’t know what would happen to you if you did. You knew too much, and the mysterious owner was a dick, so you didn’t want to test it.

Pulling down the gravel driveway you park behind the house. Entering through the backdoor that only you have a key to. You prepared for the day, making it easier for your cooks when the guest start ordering things.

The day goes by normally, like there wasn’t a party planned for the night. The owner got it catered by this famous new chef, who wouldn’t be arriving till dinner. You had to wait to be ordered around your own kitchen. The guys French accent was so thick you couldn’t understand a word he said.

Somehow you pulled it together, and your servers were carting out a stuffed bird you’d never heard of. These guests might be the fanciest of any that darkened the doorstep of the manor. They held their heads high, and drank wine that was imported in a big wooden crate you broke a nail opening.

They laughed about politics, and argued pharmaceuticals. You’re about to return to the kitchen when the front of the house man, Bruce, approaches you. “Mr. Barnes will be here at 9. He asked that you be in the library when he gets here.”. He gives you a tight lipped smile, leaving you before you have a chance to respond.

You’ve worked here for two years and the night he decides to meet you is your busiest night. You groan as you walk into the packed kitchen. Dishes being tossed into the sink and metal skillets scrapping the stove causes you sensory overload. You’re already irritated and it’s only 7.

When 9 hits, you decide nows the time you should make your way to the library. You didn’t have time to wait around for him, that kitchen would burn down without you, especially tonight.

When you get there, the doors already cracked open, and there’s a glow of lamplight emitting from it. There’s a man standing with his back to you. “Mr. Barnes?” You ask, not sure since the man seemed younger than you expected.

“You’re late.” He says, you roll your eyes, as if this was planned. “I was busy.” You curtly respond. Taking this as a chance to get off your feet, you sit in the velvet chair across the desk. He turns around once you’ve made yourself comfortable, crossing one leg over the other.

He’s handsome, and like you said, way younger than you expected. He has dark blue eyes, the kind that make a girl act a fool. They had no effect on you though, since all you were focused on is your fiancé. You didn’t really look at other men that way, you could admit when they were attractive, but nothing more. You’re better than that.

He sits down opposite of you, unbuttoning his jacket. “So I’ve been going over your monthly reports. You’re meticulous, you know that?” He gives you a genuine smile. It broke down your wall, filling you with pride at the compliment. “Thank you, I try.” You look down at your hands, picking at your broken nail.

“I know you must be busy with the party and Francois in your kitchen,” he says, causing you to raise your eyebrows. He called it your kitchen, you’re happy the two of you are in agreement. ”, so I don’t want to keep you long. I just thought I should finally meet the person keeping this house afloat.”. You take his compliments like knives. You don’t know if he means them, but you find yourself hoping he does. Causing a pang of guilt to hit you.

Why should you care if another man complimented you. You’re engaged to marry the best guy you could ever ask for. You force the blush down, not letting him see any effect he has on you, you don’t want to give the wrong idea. “If that was all, I think I should be going, like we both said, I’m busy.” You stand up, brushing down your black skirt as you do.

“Of course.” He ignores your attitude, standing to escort you out of the room. You give him a weird look, you know where the door is. “Before you leave tonight I’d like to speak to you again about a pay raise, maybe even a promotion.”.

You stop at the door and turn around and he’s only a foot away from you. You can smell the expensive cologne rolling off him, it almost makes you dizzy. “I’m actually staying tonight.” He seems surprised. “Yeah, it’s just, after I finish closing up the kitchen it will be 2, and it’s almost an hour drive home. I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep before work tomorrow.”.

“Where exactly did you plan on staying? All of the rooms are spoken for?” He asks. “The couch in the break room. It’s employees only, so I was hoping no guests stumble upon me in the night.”. He nods, looking deep in thought. “We’ll talk more later.” He says, like it was a fact.

You return to the kitchen. Things had calmed down a lot, only one cook was left, sprinkling lemon on a platter of hors d’œuvres. You got caught up on washing dishes, and cleaned the messy floors. When you were done, you heard the guests counting down, you walked to the doorway, peering in at them. No one wanted to be alone at this moment, even if you had to spend it with people that didn’t look your way. You watched as a few couples kissed and older men raised their glasses high. Mr. Barnes raised his glass towards you. Keeping his eyes on you as he takes his first sip of the new year.

You flick the kitchen light off. Walking across the dark kitchen you hear the party goes laughing and dancing to thumping music. You know you’d be picking up your champagne flutes out of the carpet in the morning. You smile when you enter the break room, you asked Bonnie, the maid, if she found time today to put you a blanket in here, she didn’t forget. Completely forgetting that your boss wanted to speak to you, you close the door behind you. Grabbing your bag off its hook on the wall, you pull out shorts and a tank top to sleep in.

You quickly change and fall face down on the couch, you don’t even cover up, liking the way your bare legs cooled your body down after sweating in the kitchen all day. You’re out like the kitchen light. That is until you feel a hand on your ankle, shaking you awake.

“Huh?” You say, raising your body up on your knees, causing your ass to lift in the air. “I wanted to speak with you.”. You blink your eyes open, and realize who it is. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot.” You say, pulling up the loose strap of your tank top.

You cross your arms in front of your chest, wanting to keep this professional. He sits down on the couch beside you, your heart starts beating a little faster than it should. You haven’t been this close to another man since you started dating your fiancé. It felt weird and taboo, you know you should scoot away, but you don’t.

“I appreciate the work you put in here, and I’d like to show my appreciation by hiring you on as a live in manager of the manor.” You look between his eyes, trying to see if he’s serious. “I- what?” You say, utterly shocked.

He turns, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. “Everyone would report to you, Bruce, security, the maids, a new kitchen manager. You’d be making a lot of the decisions in my place, I think I can trust you.” He says, you think over his offer for a second, you know the money would be out of this world, but “My fiancé, I can’t just move out, we’re getting married soon.” You know you have to turn him down.

“Do you want to see your room?” He stands up and starts walking out of the room, just like Bruce, not waiting on a reply. “I don’t think that’s necessary, sir.” He looks back at you, like he can convince you otherwise. “What’s a look gonna hurt?” He says.

He leads you to the end of the guest hall, the last door in sight. You hadn’t been upstairs since your tour of the mansion, so you weren’t really familiar on which room was which, but you’re pretty sure this is the master suite.

He takes a key from his pocket and unlocks the door, opening it to reveal none other than the master suite. “Mr. Barnes, this is the master suite, what are we doing here?” You say, taking in the giant poster bed and red velvet.

“I know where we are, this would be your room, if you were to accept my proposal and if you do, just call me Bucky.” He says, walking around the room, studying it, as if he didn’t know what every inch of his bedroom looked like. You’re at a loss for words, you never imagined living like this, or having such a high paying job. “I can’t, I want to, but I can’t.” You say, feeling like you’re making a mistake.

He crosses the room, standing infront of you. “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?” He says reaching out to touch your arm. You lock eyes with him when you feel his hand on your skin. This was inappropriate in so many ways. Here you were half naked at 2 am in the master bedroom being touched by a man that wasn’t your fiancé. You can’t move, just like on the couch.

It’s like you can’t act on what your brains telling you, step away, tell him you’re not okay with this, feel uncomfortable. But you can’t, and you won’t, your body wants to. But there’s something inside of you keeping you close to him like a magnet.

Your heart beats rapidly, fear rushes through you. Not fear of him, but what you could do in a state like this. You’re not thinking clearly, you can’t even remove his hand from your arm. The hand that was numbing the skin on your bicep.

“Like I said, Mr. Barnes, I can’t accept. I hope this doesn’t interfere with my current employment.” Finally, you put your brain on autopilot, jutting out a professional declining of his invitation.

He drops his hand, seemingly letting you win this battle. “Of course not,” he ushers you out of the room, locking it behind him. “I shall let the offer stand, as long as you keep up the good work.” You nod your head, knowing you would never bring it up again.

He insists that you join him for one last drink in the lounge. All the guests were in their rooms, fast asleep. “I’ll just have water thanks.” You say, sitting infront of the roaring fire. He walks over the the bar cart, pouring himself bourbon, and you a glass of water from the crystal pitcher.

He sits down beside you again, you notice he’s closer now than what he was in the break room. You clear your throat, “So how did you come by this place?” You ask, wanting to keep your mind off of the heat radiating off of him.

“Inheritance.” He answers curtly, like exposing any further detail was an invasion of privacy. You find yourself nodding your head yet again tonight. You look at the flames tickling the brick walls of the fireplace, they remind you of your fiancés eyes, and in that moment you feel a bullet create a hole in your chest.

If you found out he were having a drink at 2am with his boss, while she was wearing her pajamas; you’d be furious. How hypocritical, that you find yourself sipping your room temperature water, bumping knees with a man you’ve never even met before.

“What do you want in life?” He asks out of the blue. It shocks you, you don’t know if you should tell him the truth or not. You figured, he knows what he’s paying you, it would never buy a restaurant anyways. “Uhm, first and foremost a family, which I’m currently working on. But in the future?” You say, knowing that’s what he meant.

He seems unbothered by you constantly bringing up your fiancé, like it wasn’t a factor in his motives. “I want my own kitchen. My own tables and menu. My guests sitting in my restaurant.” You say, averting your eyes from him. It’s not everyday you tell your boss you don’t plan on working for them forever.

“If you accepted my offer, you’d have that. You would have say over the menu, you would greet the guests and get to know them as if they were your own. You could redecorate, whatever you wanted.” Your mouth drops open slightly, you don’t know if you should believe him, but he hasn’t given you a reason not to.

As soon as fireworks start popping in your head, they die out. “Missed opportunity I guess.”.

“Well it’s getting late, I should be getting to bed.” You say, leaving your empty glass beside his. You make a beeline for the swinging kitchen door, “I don’t think in good conscience I can let you stay on the couch, employee or not, hosting people is my profession after all.” He stands, giving you a smile that reads in different ways. One could be a business man, just doing what he does best, faking a smile.

The longer you stood on opposite sides of the room, silence growing thick between you, the charming smile read differently, like you were prey, caught in a trap. You could retreat and lick your wounds or stay, and be healed and coddled.

“I insist.” He puts his hands in his pockets, walking to the bottom of the stairs. You could see him waiting from the kitchen door, leaning on the banister. It was nonnegotiable, you huff out a breath before grabbing your bag and shoes from the break room. Might as well let this be the first and last night you every get to stay in one of these rooms.

You follow him back up to the master bedroom, he unlocks the door and leads you in yet again. “Where are you staying? I thought we had a full house?” You say, finally realizing, this locked room was the only free bed. He turns around and shrugs his shoulders, “I just thought, we could share, this beds big enough for the two of us, with plenty of professional space for a pillow wall.”. He says, throwing back the covers, tossing the decorative pillows in the middle of the bed.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say, crossing your arms. “I don’t think the couch is a good idea, seeing as you’re scheduled till 7 tomorrow.” He argues. You’re frozen again, like you should fight against him but you can’t, you just let it happen.

Without another word you drop your bag and shoes on the chest at the foot of the bed. You tuck yourself in close to the edge, facing away from him. You set your alarm and close your eyes when he flicks the light off. “Goodnight.” He says, and you try to pretend you’re already asleep, but “night.” Slips from your lips before you could rethink it.

#avengers fanfiction #avengers #bucky barnes #mcu #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

[rottingpirate]

Gaz x Tall! Male reader where they are secretly married and 141 see their rings but think they are married to someone else

Secretly married || Gaz x Tall M!reader

Warnings: implied cheating, kissing

Hope you don't mind, but I wrote this as only Gaz having the ring on his finger and the reader having it as a necklace that's not exactly visible.

The whole shitshow started when Price sat silently at his desk, a burning cigar hanging from his mouth. It has been a quiet day so far, maybe because it’s still pretty early in the morning and most of the base was still sound asleep. He had completed all the paperwork that needed to be done, so he picked up a random magazine that sat at his desk, that he didn’t even know where it came from.

 It was a white magazine with a bold yellow title and a picture of some model in the middle. It looked like something teenagers would read. He flipped it open at a random page which was a recipe page, Chocolate-covered cherries, sounded pretty okay but as Price wasn’t exactly the cooking type, he skipped a few pages until he found something rather amusing. ‘5 Tell-Tale signs that your coworkers are dating’. He was sure that no one in his squad was dating, but oh well, it wouldn’t hurt to read some stupid assumptions as he had nothing better to do.

‘1. They’re Always Talking To Each Other.’

Damn, at first you’re talking and then you’re suddenly married.

‘2. They Go To Lunch Together. All The Time’ ‘3. They Bring Each Other Coffee.’  ‘4. They Look At Each Other – A Lot’ ‘5. They Tease Each Other.’ 

His initial thought was Soap and Ghost, but it switched to you and Gaz real quick. You two were always together causing some trouble. Where there was one, the other one was close by. Gaz basically lived in your room for fucks sake. 

Do you two always talk together? Yes. You two were best friends, inseparable you could say. Conversations, jokes, gossips, teasing, bickering, random debates, etc. But it could also be the fact that you were the youngest ones in 141, with almost no age gap. 

Do you two eat together? Yes. Breakfast, lunch and dinner was always spent with you two sitting next to each other. Sometimes you wouldn’t even talk,  just enjoying each other's presence. Other times you two would throw food at each other and laugh together.

Do you bring each other coffee? Yes. Usually in the mornings, you made coffee for each other. But then again, the coffee was for the entire squad so…

Do you look at each other? Also yes. Small glances here and there and looking at each other when you thought no one saw. Even when one of you would be having a conversation with someone else, your eyes would somehow meet.

But with all of these signs there was one problem though, Gaz was married. Price didn’t know to whom, because it never came up before, but Gaz did have a nice little silver ring on his ring finger. 

Price decided that it was enough of reading and put the magazine aside. What he didn’t know was that he unknowingly and accidentally started paying attention to you two a lot more. How you two would interact with each other versus how you would interact with the rest of the 141. How sometimes Gaz would slightly brush his hand against yours. How you would rest your chin on top of his head and hug him close. How you would affectionately call him ‘Kyle’. How he would jump on your back from time to time and something Price never noticed before was that Gaz often wore your clothes.  After basically spying on you two for a whole week he decided to tell Soap and Ghost.

“You think they’re fucking?” Ghost leaned up against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, while Soap stood next to him with a confused and slightly scared look on his face. “Gaz doesn’t strike me as the cheating type though.” Soap continued looking at him, glancing at Ghost before turning back to Price. “He doesn’t, but somethings going on with those two.” Price tapped the table, trying to figure out what to do. Should he even be worried about this? Well it sure would suck for his poor wife, who has no idea that her husband was cheating on her. 

“Maybe we should just talk to them. Figure out what’s up.” Ghost was the voice of reason. He didn't want to jump into any conclusions. His stomach twists uncomfortably though. He wishes that it was just a misunderstanding. 

After a good twenty minutes they decided on confronting you at the bar that all five of you would be going to tonight, hoping that maybe you’d be drunk enough to confess to whatever the fuck was going on. 

In the evening, 10 minutes before you all were meeting up and leaving, the trio was heading towards your room where you and Gaz usually hung out. Maybe they could find some answers while also praying that this all was just a huge misunderstanding. Thankfully, your door wasn't fully closed and what they saw was horrifying. Yep, their suspicions were correct all along. Soap nearly dropped his wallet “Are you seeing this?” You two were kissing. Price pulled both men farther away from the private scene, suddenly scared to do anything.

They looked horrified, truly scared.

“But Gaz is married!”

With a gruff reply, Price said “That’s not good,” he bit his lip, a million thoughts crossing his mind. 

“Should we do something?”  Soap asked as he looked back at the other two. He was feeling sick all of a sudden.  You and Gaz were his friends, and it really wasn’t their business what you two did behind closed doors, but it was just wrong. They had thought that Gaz was happily married. Did you know that he was married? Well, you had to right???

A moment of silence before Ghost speaks up.

He shook his head, “What can we do?  It’s really none of our business what the two of them do behind closed doors together.”

“It’s still wrong,” Soap said, all defensive.

Price grabbed them and dragged them along, farther away from you two. “We’re not doing anything. Not now at least ”

You noticed a change in Soap over the next few days and grew concerned. He was acting standoffish with you and Gaz had said that he had noticed the same thing. You asked around, but it seemed like you two were the only ones that he was like that with.

He was your friend, you wondered what was going on with him. Did you do something wrong? “We should ask him,” you told Gaz that night as you laid in your bed with him cuddled up next to you.  “I want to get to the bottom of this because I’m worried that we did something to offend him. Did we do something wrong? Is it because I accidentally spilled coffee over him?”

Gaz ran a hand through your hair, smiling lazily at your stressed expression, “It's probably nothing, dont worry about it.”

You frowned, “Well, I am worried.”

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “Well, whatever it is…I’m sure we can figure it out tomorrow. Now, go to sleep. 'm tired.” He murmured, before closing his eyes and after a while you did too.

So the next day you and Gaz cornered Soap in the hallway. He stood near the wall, and he wouldn’t look either of you in the eye and you could tell he was really frustrated. He was irritated the entire day and wouldn’t even spar with you. You glanced at Gaz and then back at the mad Soap.

“Soap, we’ve noticed over the past week that you’ve become a little hostile toward us,” Gaz started.  “We wanted to know why that was? If you don’t mind telling us.”

“Did we do something to offend you?”  You asked, your voice softer.  “Because whatever it is I’m sure that we can work it out.”

He finally looked at you, “How could you cheat on your wife?!” He shouted, looking at Gaz specifically.

The outburst left the two of you startled and you looked at one another. Gaz was about to say something, but you cut him off. "Gaz isn’t cheating on his wife, Soap" You were hesitant and confused. 

“Price, Ghost and I saw you kissing one another. You’re married, how could you do that to your significant other?! We- I thought you were happily married.”

You were still a little confused. You were pretty sure Gaz told everyone that you two were together. Unless he didn’t.  "I thought they knew." You said while not breaking eye contact with Soap.

"Didn't you tell them?" 

"I thought you did…" 

oh…

Then it all hit you. You laughed a little, pulling out your chain, it had a silver ring on it that was identical to the one Gaz had on his ring finger. "He doesn't have a wife. He has a husband actually and he isn't cheating on him either." You said with a sheepish grin on your face.

He was shocked. “No way…” Soap shook his head, not taking his eyes off the dangling ring. “Holy shit.”

You chuckled and shook your head, “If you're wondering, we’re very much in love and not cheating.”

“Then how come no one knows that the two of you are married?”

“I guess we never told anyone,” Gaz told him, scratching his head. 

“Oh,” his cheeks heated up.  “’m sorry. Bloody hell, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Fuck, It’s okay Soap, but next time talk to us about it instead of giving us the cold shoulder. We were confused to say the least..”

He nodded his head, “Kay, promise.” He nodded, a small smile creeping on his face. “Fuck, wouldn’t of guessed that you two would be married. Guess it makes sense the more I think about it.” 

You all laughed about it for a good minute before deciding to come clean to the rest of the squad. The embarrassment on their faces was too clear and twice as funny.

#kyle gaz garrick #call of duty modern warfare ii #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #gaz x male reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #cod x male reader

[fun-k-board]

Hey again friend.

How about a headcanon of being best friends and a student to smoke 😄😄 please

Tomas Vrbada / Smoke Friendship Headcanons

Note(s) : I'm still learning how to write about his character, so criticisms are appreciated.

If we're talking Lin Kuei, Tomas is probably the best option for a mentor because he's not as strict and, uh, scary as Bi-Han, and even less serious than Kuai Liang, although that's not hard because he's so responsible.

But, that doesn't mean he'll let you slack off.

Tomas has a schedule, which includes waking up extremely early, most likely 6 AM, getting dressed and having breakfast in the span of a few minutes, you're expected to be at training for at least 7 AM. Then you train until lunch, around 1 PM, which lasts until 2 PM and then you train until dinner, around 6PM.

He expects you, and everybody else who trains under him, to follow that schedule. He can accept a few excuses, injuries making it harder to get dressed, mental issues, maybe you were just really hungry and accidentally spent too long eating, whatever the case, he lets you off with a warning most of the time.

But if it becomes repeated behaviour you're going through more gruelling training for a week, only Bi-Han at that point can get you out of it, and everybody knows he won't.

He retains a friendly and casual relationship outside of your training, inviting you with his brothers to dinner, which is usually less than once a month. They're usually at Madame Bo's or another tea house, and he's usually the one paying.

You both talk while he trains you, mostly about other Lin Kuei members and their performance / behaviours. Smoke won't trash talk, but he will sometimes indulge in gossip. 'Did you hear about the new recruit who tried to fight Bi-Han?' 'They did what?!'

Even when you're fighting with more seriousness, he's still cracking a friendly joke here and there. Probably something about ice, fire, or smoke.

Speaking of, if you don't like puns about smoke, don't even talk to this guy. He somehow knows every pun in existence that even slightly relates to it, Bi-Han and Kuai Liang are so tired of them they both just leave whenever he starts with one.

He adores if you match his energy, you two bounce back with constant puns that you forget training and leave Bi-Han to scold you two.

Tomas already has a strained relationship with Bi-Han, the man doesn't view him as a brother, let alone squeal, even though that's all Smoke wants from him. He doesn't mean to burden you with his issues, but sometimes he might ask 'Do you think I'm deserving of being a Lin Kuei?'

He won't stop being friends with you if Bi-Han doesn't like you, but maybe he will if Kuai doesn't, he looks up to Scorpion and views him as a major influence in life. But, the likelihood of Kuai ever actually telling him he doesn't like you is low, so, you're all good.

Given how the Lin Kuei works, I think you'd also have to train under his brothers or others in the clan once and a while, but mainly under him. He probably has other students to train, and so he's not always free for casual talk or sparring because he has others to mentor.

I'd say, for a guess, he most likely gets at least a day off, if not, breakfast, lunch and dinner is probably a time where he's free to at least go to a restaurant for food with you.

Shirai Ryu Tomas is different. While before he had maybe one day off, now he's always free because of how there's almost no recruits, only Hanzo and a few other kids who didn't have a good situation before the clan formed.

You'd most likely help the younger ones, and maybe have an 'assistant' role when teaching, the training is fairly lighter because they're just kids, but any adults or teens will have the same training as you, with a tighter schedule that you have to help maintain.

He has more free time to just... Hang around basically, he's always inviting you to have food with Kuai or his friends, like Johnny, Syzoth and most other members of the Kast, he's a big fan of helping you out with tasks.

Tomas will enjoy cleaning, for example, he expects you to help him obviously, especially if it's your room or armour he's helping clean. But, he enjoys it because it's productive and he gets to spend time with you.

Smoke also loves when you do things like that for him! Especially cooking, he's not... The best at it, so he appreciates when you make food after a long day of training and doing small missions for Liu Kang.

He doesn't touch the kitchen. Don't make him go near it.

He might try and teach you Czech or Chinese, if you don't know either already, this totally isn't just so when you're in crowded areas you can talk to each other without people listening, what are you talking about?

Although, it took him years to learn Chinese, so he understands if you find it too difficult and don't want to learn, that won't stop him from muttering words under his breath when he's annoyed.

He's not the biggest fan of hugs, don't get me wrong, he absolutely will if you ask him or he needs it, but he doesn't think he's ever been hugged since he was a kid, so it's just a bit unfamiliar.

Smoke likes holding your hand though, not only will you not get lost in crowds, but you can have friendly contact without it being too much for either of you.

Never ask him for relationship advice, if you want a wingman, look the other way. His love life consists of nothing, a barren desert, and he prefers to keep it that way.

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[magewritesstories]

I’m not sure if you write for this version of this character in particular but I saw you did an incorrect quote for Harry Osborn, and I was wondering if you could do tasm 2 version Harry Osborn headcanons like a dating him includes?

Harry Osborn // Dating Headcanons

Note: ofc, ofc I would love to share some hc's (btw AU where he doesn't have the Goblin Disease) TW: mentions of fighting, possessiveness (but not in the Wattpad mafia way y'know)

okay so for starters, buckle up for enemies to lovers office romance

but it's one-sided; you dislike him, 'cause y'know he's kinda an asshole, but he just likes teasing you and doesn't actually mean anything he says

after a very drunk confrontation at an office party, you tell him you think he's an absolute asshole, and how much you hate working for him

after a while it just devolves to stupid things you dislike, like the way you hate that he drinks black coffee or that he has to have take-out all the time, or that he just randomly cancels meetings for no apparent reasons

the next day, you just find a box of chocolates on your desk

after that it's a little more smooth sailing

after a few months— which is enough time for harry to fully mourn the death of his dad— things start getting better

he's fully taken over as CEO of oscorp and proven to everybody, that despite the fact that he's young, he's still a good businessman

i imagine it's been a year, and now that you're both fully adjusted to the job, things start getting a little more spicy

at first you don't even notice the change; he puts down a cup of coffee— you're favourite order— on your desk when he arrives at the office, or he asks you to join him in eating take-out when you two are the only ones left in the office after a long day

then it escalates, you complain about the old coffee machines, and he has them replaced, or you offhandedly mention the fact that one of the lifts is always out of order, and the next day you see some poor mechanics who've been working at it all night walk past you, complaining about how much of hardass the "baby osborn" is

your friend is the one that mentions it first; "hey, weren't you complaining about those yesterday?"

at first you just shrug it off, he was being a good boss, so what?

but after a while, it gets into your head anyway

i mean, there are only so many sentences with a flirty undertone a girl can take

so, being you, you decide to outright ask him

"are you flirting with me?"

"i have been for the past three months, but thanks for noticing."

after that he just gives you one of those typical harry osborn smirks and walks off, hands in his pockets 'n everything

Once you guys actually start dating though, he's a total sweetheart

His love languages are most definitely gift giving (giving) and physical touch (receiving)

Speaking of, you bet you're closet goes from being worth 200$ to being worth 8000$ within weeks

It starts off as small things, a cup of coffee on him, or some dinner in the office, just the two of you

But it escalates quickly

By the time you're three month anniversary rolls around, he's bought you just about the entire Jimmy Choo collection, and your amazon wishlist

He remembers everything you tell him, from the fact that you love a certain colour or dislike a certain food, he'll definitely remember

When you tell him you feel bad about the amount of money he spends on you, he just shrugs it off

besides you can pay him back by wearing that Victoria's Secret gift he got you a few weeks ago

Princess treatment all the way

The entire thing, holds your bags, opens the door, has his card out and has paid before you even reach for your wallet

Just loves spoiling you

Dates are usually one of two things:

One: Super extravagant, oh there's this cool restaurant in LA you want to check out when you go there? He has two tickets booked, and he's written it in his agenda for next saturday

Two: Super chill weekend in. The two of you just relax, watch some movies, have breakfast in bed, maybe even some pillow forts if he's feeling fancy, and of course, pillow fights that somehow always end up in make-out sessions

Extremely touch-starved, so will have his hands on you all the time

And he isn't even ashamed about it

Like, y'all will be at dinner, and he'll casually put an arm around your shoulder and pull you closer to him, to the point that you're almost in his lap

"Harry, we're in public!"

"So?"

"People are staring!"

"I reiterate: So?"

Just a sweetheart in general, he loves you and he isn't ashamed of it at all

But of course, there are some downsides too

For starters, he's very unaware of just how privileged he is

He doesn't do it on purpose though, he really doesn't mean to seem like an arrogant jerk. But it just shows

For example, this one time, there was a super sale at Costco, and you were super excited to tell him, and he just stared at you like, "What's the big deal??"

You'd think hanging out with Peter would make him realize that not everyone has the same chances and problems growing up

It gets annoying sometimes, like how he just shrugs off employees overworking themselves with a "So, if they're so stressed, just take a day off."

He's trying though

Secondly, he's extremely possessive, so he gets jealous super easily

For example, the two of you will be at one of his rich people gala's—as you very fondly call them— and this random guy will have a chat with you, normal conversation, but with an obvious flirty undertone

And he'll get very annoyed

"Why didn't you tell him you had a boyfriend?" *insert pout*

"Harry, we were talking about the stock market, where would I just casually add that piece of information?"

He's annoyed for the rest of the night, as well as the car ride home— in which you tell him he's being childish— but the moment you get home he just sighs and tells you he's sorry for overreacting

Those fights usually turn into long night conversations, with tea and blankets

He also has the habit of forgetting dates

This is usually when there's a big project presentation coming up and he's nervous

Usually you don't mind, after all, you've seen first hand how brutal the board can be

But sometimes it's just a little too much, and all the other little things that have been bothering the two of you blow up into one big fight

You're both very stubborn so it just turns into a waiting game of who'll give in first

If he's the one who gives in, he usually turns up at your door with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers and your favourite chocolates

Definitely the type to drive across the city to get you that one sweet, from that one shop you really like

If you're the one to give in, he'll just pout, and tell you he's still mad

He already gave in the moment you walked in though

He just likes to tease you, but after the third sorry he feels bad and tells you he's sorry for neglecting you too

He likes the idea of communication, and he's trying to get better at it

But when he can't find the words, he just defaults back to buying you stuff

That's how his dad always fixed stuff, so it's the only way he knows

But he tries, because it's you and you deserve nothing less than the best

#harry osborn #harry osborn x reader #tasm!harry osborn #tasm!harry osborn x reader #harry osborn headcanons #tasm!harry osborn x reader headcanons #harry osborn x reader headcanons #the amazing spiderman #spiderman #spiderman headcanons #tasm!harry osborn headcanons #marvel #marvel headcanons