#I went through all the wrong people in the past that made it ten times worse | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 6 months ago

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hii, I‘ve already made two requests and you‘ve written them so so beautifully <33 Your work is really amazing and I think I would consider you one of my favorite blogs💞💞 I do have one more idea :)

Reader and Jason are in a relationship, yet they don’t know about his vigilante identity. Reader works the night shift as a barista.

One night, the café gets robbed during reader’s shift, but Jason isn’t there to take care of the robber since he went on patrol only later, meaning the GCPD is the first on the scene.

When Red Hood passes the café and see’s all the police lights, his heart drops. He comes to check up on reader, but they’re so shaken up that jason scares them.

It’s all fluffy in the end, and perhaps Red Hood reveals his identity 😚

Promises

Hi, nonnie! Thank you! ~1.8k words

There was a gun to your face about ten minutes ago. Well, it might have been ten minutes ago, you're not exactly sure how long it was now. The idea of time seemed to phase out when two masked robbers stormed into the little Café you worked at.

Who even robs a coffee shop? You had maybe thirty dollars in the till, everyone uses cards or just taps their phones anyway. That point didn't seem to get across to the men as they waved their pistols in your face and shot off rounds into the air.

You showed them the safe, and a few hundred dollars seemed to calm them down. They took the money, took your wallet and phone. But none of that stopped them from shoving you to the ground as they ran off. You just sat there– dazed, scared, and overwhelmed– until a patrol car from the GCPD and an ambulance rushed to park outside.

No one was hurt, maybe some bruises from being pushed around, but you and the two unfortunate people who wanted coffee half past midnight were more than a little shaken up.

You stumble through the questions the cops ask you and let the paramedics guide you to sit on the back of the ambulance. They drape a shock blanket over your shoulders as you murmur about needing to call your boyfriend.

Someone presses a hot drink into your hands, and you barely register the quiet conversations over this being the fourth small business to get robbed this week. Your eyes only leave the spot in the distance you're fixated on when gasps resonate throughout the air. Your gaze shifts up, and your breath leaves your lungs. Red Hood. Red Hood is stalking towards you like lives depend on it, avoiding the medics and cops that try to talk to him, to get his attention.

You're proud of the fact that you don't flinch when his gloved hand meets your face, carefully tilting your chin up to observe your face. His body is rigid, you can tell something's wrong even through the muddled, shocked state of your mind.

He's crowding over you, a barrier between you and the rest of Gotham. You know he's a vigilante, you know that he helps. But the moment frays the last of your nerves and tears fill your eyes.

You just want to go home. You just want to feel safe. You want your phone back and you want to call your boyfriend and have him make everything okay again.

Red Hod freezes and you can audibly hear his breath hitching. His fingers twitch against your skin before dropping, but he doesn't step away, "Sorry. I'm sorry– Did I– are you hurt?"

That only makes you want to cry harder. He's apologizing to you. This stranger hasn't done anything, but check if you're okay, and you're crying all because he looks big and a little scary. You shake your head, trying to find the words to apologize back, that you don't know why you're crying.

You shift back, even if there's no room to go anywhere. Your heart is pounding and you're scared even if you shouldn't be because there was a gun to your face and you could have died and the man that smells like gunpowder and leather can't fix that.

His head doesn't move, you know his eyes haven't left your face. You don't know why. He doesn't gain anything from lifting his hand to catch the tear that spills down your face. "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, steady and full of promise, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He says your name, says it softly and gently and damn near yearning.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer shakily, blinking back the rest of your tears and trying to figure out why a vigilante knows your name.

His head turns, presumably looking for your phone, "Is it still inside the Café?"

You shake your head, voice heavy with emotion, "It– they stole it."

"They?" He questions, mask tilting back towards you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly, Isn't that why he's here? To get information? To catch them?

His hand finally leaves your face, and you exhale softly in relief, "I'll take care of it."

He wavers in front of you. Another thing that doesn't make sense. You don't get another word out before he's disappeared into the shadows.

Your shoulders slump. You're so tired and so, so drained, and not even the hot drink in your hands is making you feel more in your body.

Someone calls your name. Jason. You stand up on shaky legs, nearly spilling the cup in an attempt to put it down quickly. Jason's here. You don't care why or how, but he's here. He has you wrapped up against his chest and face buried in your hair before the cops can even try to stop him.

He says your name over and over into your hair, and you try to ignore the way your tears stain his shirt. "I've got you, you're okay. You're okay, baby. Promise. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you," he murmurs, arms tightening around you.

He feels safe. He smells like– he smells like leather and gunpowder. He's big and warm and a barrier between you and the rest of the world. And it all clicks.

"Let's get you home," he says softly, gently, so careful with a voice full of yearning and love. You recognize it. And you know.

Jason knows your shift ends in forty-seven minutes. But patrol has been slow tonight, and he's going to walk you home even if it wasn't. So why not show up a little early and keep you company? Spoiler seemed eager enough to cover his territory for a few hours, anyway.

He'll go back out after he sees you home safe and watches you fall asleep. Jason's idly trying to decide if you're going to be too tired to shower with him, when the flashing lights outside the Café catch his attention.

He thinks his heart might have stopped. He doesn't even think to call Oracle or text you, he just knows his feet hit the pavement and he's running.

There's only one ambulance, only one cop car. His eyes dart. Where are you. Where are you?

He's barreling towards you as soon as he finds you. He doesn't have a plan. Doesn't need one until he knows you're safe. "Move," he snaps at the medic that tries to stop him, never stopping his path towards you.

His hand is tilting your head up before he even considers the possibility that it's a bad idea, that he's just a stranger in a mask armed to the teeth with knives and guns.

He can't help himself. He needs to touch you, needs to ground himself and make sure you're not hurt. He doesn't manage to get his words out before you're tearing up.

Jason's heart breaks at the sight, bile rising in his throat. He removes his hand, even if every instinct he has goes against it. He thinks he chokes out an apology, but he's too busy looking at every inch of you for injuries.

You shake your head and a piece of his soul shatters. He reaches up to wipe your tears, as if he could do anything else, "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, and wills it to be true, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He wants it to be better. He wants your tears to stop and the tension to leave your body and the anxiety to disappear from your eyes.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer, and he wants to drop to his knees when your voice shakes.

Your phone. He can do that. His eyes dart from you, looking for the familiar phone case, "Is it still inside the Café?"

"It– they stole it," You answer and his focus snaps back to you.

"They?" He questions, doing his best to keep the anger from dripping into his voice, to bite back the threats on his tongue for whoever scared you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly. Robbers. Robbers. Robbers did this. He files that away for once you're home, once he knows you feel safe.

He pulls his hand from your face reluctantly, "I'll take care of it." Jason doesn't want to step away from you. All he really wants is to wrap you up against him and promise everything will be better. But you don't need Red Hood. You need Jason Todd.

He forces himself away from you, moves faster than he should, struggling to shed his armor and mask. He drops his guns to the roof, anything recognizable left in a pile for someone else to deal with.

He's back on the ground and rushing back to you. He says your name. You look up at him and he sees the relief flood your face.

Jason catches you when you step towards him, arms wrapping around you to keep you close.

He whispers promises against your skin, tightening his grip on you. He can feel you crying. It makes concern and anger and the overwhelming desire to protect you twists in his stomach, "Let's get you home."

Jason– Red Hood– talks to the police for you. Insists that there's no more questions for you to answer as he hooks his arm firmly around your waist. He guides you home. You barely process a word he says.

All you can really focus on, as you watch him unlock the apartment door, is that he's Red Hood. How did you miss it? Why didn't you know?

You feel disoriented. But Jason's perfect, exactly what you need in the moment. He doesn't ask you questions, doesn't press or make you move too fast as he helps you change. He nods and gets you water when you say you don't want to shower, that you're not hungry.

He lets you curl against his chest and he kisses the crown of your head when you finally crawl into bed, "I was scared," You admit quietly into his skin.

"They'll never scare you again," he promises. Your stomach swoops. It's the truth. You know it's fact. They'll never scare you again. They'll never scare anyone again. He'll make sure of it.

You fall asleep to his comforting whispers and vows, the feel of his fingers tracing your skin. When you wake up, he's still next to you, still holding you flush against him. Your wallet and phone sit on the nightstand next to your bed. Neither of you mention it as the sun begins to shine on the familiar leather jacket folded over your chair. Neither of you mention it, later, when the news reports that two bodies were found in Gotham Harbor.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x reader

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pirateprincessblog · 6 months ago

Text

needle to the heart

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: wedding planning seemed stressful and difficult on tv and in the stories of your friends and family. your first one was, indeed, stressful and difficult. so much that it took you less than ten minutes to discard your wedding dress, undo your hair, and call a cab. this time will be different. with a different approach. in a different city. with a different man. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kim hongjoong x f!reader x choi san 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, smut, bride!reader, ex!hongjoong, ceo!san, cheating, marriage, past lovers 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: public, voyeurism, orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, choking, hair pulling, fingering, mirror sex

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, infidelity 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i whipped this out in three hours. enjoy. i did. i'm horny. and sad. not proofread. :)

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

you liked to think that you were the furthest thing from a bridezilla. you did everything on your own or with your partner, kept your family and friends out of it, for their and your sake, and little by little, all the planning was coming to an end. the seating arrangement was finished, bridesmaids happy, parents satisfied, and you and your partner relaxed. all that was left to do was find the wedding gown and tuxedo.

for your last wedding, your then partner and you did not have a big budget. you did not plan a big wedding either, knowing that none of your family members would attend and he had a very small circle of people.

kim hongjoong was in college, struggling to make ends meet. but he loved you, more than anything. would've kept you in his pocket if he could. he borrowed money from his brother to pay for the venue and catering, and used his savings to buy himself a suit that was conveniently on clearance. as for your dress, he made it for you. his dream of becoming a fashion designer never faded, even though it cost him his apartment and most of the food. he lived off of coffee, pretzels and cigarettes.

he quit them for you, hoping to create a better impression in your parent's eyes. but all they saw was a cigarette smelling, hair dyed boy whose dreams were too big for his own good and he could not give you a good future. they didn't not like him. they hated him. your father, usually having a soft spot for even a pout from you, let alone tears, was unfazed as you begged him to give hongjoong a chance.

"you'll become homeless in no time."

"don't come to us when everything falls apart."

"what do you know about love at your age?"

"why can't you find someone more successful?"

and you almost went through with it. you sat in the hand sewn wedding dress, with your hair done by your best friend, and make up done by yourself. the dress itself did not look like it was made in under a month by a man. it looked like it was stripped from a mannequin in a wedding dress shop. and you loved it. you loved every bit of it. you loved every bit of him. the smile he had on his face as he handed you the box, and the little excited clapping as you admired his creation in awe.

yet, as soon as your best friend left you to get the veil from the car, you regretted it. what if it really does go wrong, and you have no backup. you didn't go to college, instead choosing to work until you decide what to do with yourself. but your paycheck wasn't enough to find an apartment for yourself, let alone two people. then comes the food, the utilities, and his college. would he ask you for money? would he contribute at all? would you have to work two shifts to cover both of your expenses?

in the ten minutes that your best friend, the maid of honour, was gone, your brain managed to mess with your feelings and got you out of the dress and through the window. you ran in the clothes you arrived in, leggings and sweatshirt, with undone hair and face full of smeared makeup. your parents ushered you in, your mother happily wiping your makeup off and preparing you your favourite meal.

your phone did not ring once. it hurt your heart to think that hongjoong did not reach out to you. not him, not his family, and not your maid of honour. you were alone. hurting. you did not want to do it. but if hongjoong had been just a tad bit more patient, everything would've been perfect. neither of you were financially stable on your own, or together, and barely had the money for the wedding. hongjoong didn't understand it. or didn't want to understand it. blindly in love, he just wanted to gift you the world. say the word, and he would create it out of thin air for you if he could.

you moved cities, changed numbers, forgot names and faces, met new ones. you met choi san. a kind, polite man you've met at the gym. the encounter was like one from a movie; someone raising their voice at you for borrowing some equipment and shoving you backwards as you tried to defend yourself. when your back hit the wall, you were certain the giant bodybuilder's fist would soon meet your face. until he came to rescue.

"pick on someone your own size."

"this your girlfriend or something?"

"she is. even if she wasn't, what gives you the right to talk or touch anyone like that?"

"tell your slut to keep her fingers to herself and ask the next time she wants to- oof!"

in a split second, san's fist connected with the man's jaw. it was amusing seeing the giant man stumble back, taking a hit from someone who was shorter and not as bulked as him. the workers were quick to react, but on his behalf. both of you got your membership cancelled, bags and bottles flying out the door, along with you two. you stood in front of the glass doors in the dark, your saviour next to you, equally in disbelief. until you started laughing. and he joined.

from that night, everything seemed to fall in place. you felt loved. safe. had hopes and dreams again. your parents accepted san, just like his parents accepted you. family dinners and lunches were now an often occurrence, with san always abducting you while everyone was busy preparing food and giving you attention where nobody could see.

it was sweet and innocent at first, and more heated and passionate as days went by. choi san knew how to sweep you off your feet, whether it was with a sudden trip to your dream destination or a simple chocolate bar he picked up at the gas station. aside from loving, caring and protecting, he was also rich. you would sound shallow if you said it out loud, but it did contribute. looking at your last relationship, this one felt safe. you didn't need to worry whether you'll spend today's budget on your daily coffee or on your partner's food so he doesn't starve.

now, a few years later, not only do you have a majestic venue, a big number of people you wanted to invite in the first place, and a dreamy groom, but you are also getting your wedding gown custom made. you sit in your fiancé's car, a brand new black and shiny lexus with red seats he bought for the wedding that is just three weeks away. he assured you that the gown would be done by then. it had to be.

"see anything you like, love?"

"they're all so... revealing." you complain, closing one of the dozens magazines san's assistant has found you.

san chuckles, putting a hand on your thigh and keeping the other one on his steering wheel. you still feel goosebumps every time he touches you. his hand is warm on your skin, gently squeezing your bare thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. "you can draw your own picture if you wish. i'll do everything to make sure you have your dream dress. i want my future wife to be happy."

as an owner of a highly successful company that produces luxurious jewelry and watches, choi san could afford everything. yet, he was still cautious with his money. he kept his receipts, tracked his own expenses, but never spared when it came to spoiling you or tipping workers. the only thing you regretted was not meeting him sooner.

"i am happy." you respond, even though your tone is irritated.

"you're so cute when you try to conceal your emotions. you can be angry with something, that's alright."

"i'm not angry. i'm pissed."

"tell me what you want, and i'll make it happen."

"i don't know what i want." you admit, throwing the magazines in the back seat.

"ah," san says. "can i be of any help?"

"you can try."

"you love sparkles. why not go all out?"

"i don't know."

you rest your head against the window, looking at the tall building that overshadows all the others as you give your brain a break. it is san's building, and you have been in there many times. some days spent sitting in the cafeteria and having lunch with him, and some spent against the window, bare body pressed against the cold glass as his warm hands held your waist in place and hips connected with yours. you feel arousal pooling between your legs, and instinctively press your thighs together at the memory.

san recognizes the way you chew your freshly manicured nail, eyes stuck on the highest level on his building and cheeks becoming flushed. he smirks to himself, before letting his hand dip between your thighs and feel the warmth of your core.

"san-" you gasp, quickly rolling up the window.

usually, you do not mind. but in the middle of the day, in a busy city as you wait for the green light?

"may i know what got you so worked up?" he asks, knowing the answer already. he just needed to hear it from you while you were a flustered and stuttering mess.

"you know."

"i'm afraid i don't. mind reminding me?"

you look at him with an annoyed face. you realize it is a mistake, your eyes hungrily taking in his presence. he looks ravishing with his slicked black hair, with a few strands falling over his smug face, a black halfway unbuttoned shirt with rolled up sleeves and his sleeve tattoos on full display. the tattooed hand grips your thigh, his pinky finger inching closer and closer to your clothed core. your gaze drops on his tattoos, having memorized all of them by now. your favorite one overshadows the rest, and when he first showed it to you, it had your jaw dropped for a long time.

your eyes inked on his skin, details astonishing. your lashes, your iris, to the smallest vein in the whites of your eye. it was cleverly camouflaged with the rest of them, but still standing out if someone were to look at it a bit longer.

something about him pleasuring you with that hand had you seeing stars. choi san loved you so much that he got a reminder of you permanently marked on his skin. and he made sure to show you how much he loved you in other ways. just like now, easily moving your panties aside and brushing his fingers against your folds. he circles your clit, causing you to squirm in your seat and claw at the red leather underneath you. he doesn't protest, instead loving the view and sounds you make for him.

"my pretty wife," he coos, then dips his fingers into your aching hole.

you moan, throwing your head back and closing your eyes, finally relaxing your body. san has given you passion and an adrenaline rush. you can't help but be jealous of his previous lovers. were they also treated like this?

you feel the car move, and his fingers plunge deep inside of you. you gasp, opening your eyes and holding onto the door handle and his wrist. he smoothly navigates the busy roads, not once taking his hand off your body. his thick fingers easily find your soft spot, not sparing a moment before abusing it and inching you closer to an intense orgasm. he is forced to stop at another red light, causing you to groan out of frustration. you wished for nothing more than to get out of the busy city center, beg him to stop in an empty parking lot so you can offer yourself to him in the back seat.

"excuse me?"

you become stiff under his touch, ears picking up a foreign voice. san does not halt his moves, relentlessly slamming two fingers into you, hidden by your dress. you squeeze his wrist - a poor attempt to stop him.

"yes?" your lover rolls down his window, shifting his focus on the older couple that approaches the car.

"do you know where this street is? we aren't usually in this city." they show san their phone screen that has an address written in the notes.

as san explains, you can't help but feel a mix of fear and embarrassment. the green light could turn on any second, and your orgasm could wreck your body in the same time span. you can't help the gasps that leave your lips, even though your head is turned to the other side. it does not make the situation easier, seeing that the sidewalk is full of people waiting for the bus. and have a perfect view inside the car. some of them recognize the pure bliss on your face, and while a few turn their heads away, two or three of them stay looking at you.

"and then you turn left after the restaurant." san finally finishes, and you almost do too.

"thank you, kind man. is your... partner alright?"

all three look your way, and you have to fight the urge to yell at the couple to leave and be on their way already. instead, your orgasm ripples through your body, sending shockwaves along your spine and making your eyes roll back. you hear faint snickering, and a gasp. you know that the couple is traumatized, and that san is enjoying every bit of it. as are you.

you don't conceal your moans anymore, allowing sounds of pleasure to echo in the car that now smells less new and more like you.

"i hope you find your location." the man greets, removing his hand from your glistening folds and letting his tongue feast on the fluids that coat his fingers.

before they can respond, the light turns green, and san is quick to step on the gas pedal and leave the shocked crowd behind.

"you're insane." you exhale, a smile creeping on your lips no matter how angry you wish to sound.

"and you love it."

san's assistant is still a student. she works for him so she can afford her college. her job description says doing tasks that make san's job easier, but in reality, her only task is to keep you company and help you around the wedding. and she does not complain.

"april, this looks fabulous." you gasp, gawking at the three story wedding dress shop a few days later.

"i know, right? i pass by this shop every day on my way to college. i really want to buy my own dress here some day." the redhead sighs, dreamy gaze roaming the white gowns. "you know, mr choi is so cool for letting you design your own dress."

"when you get proposed to, give me a call. i'll see what i can arrange." you playfully reply.

she laughs, then finally pushes the door and holds it open for you. sometimes you feel jealous of her. she has fire red hair, and green eyes, the most gorgeous shade you've ever seen. she spends a lot of time in san's building, right outside the office. even though she has never shown interest in him, you can't help but moan just a bit louder when you're in there with him, hoping that she hears and gets the message.

"the owner is so hot, mrs choi. i met him the other day to book a consultation and-"

"mrs choi?" you raise an eyebrow.

"oh- i mean- can i call you that? it sounds so... sexy. mr and mrs choi. the hottest couple i know. not even brangelina can top you."

"april!" you hush her. still, you can't help but blush at her compliment. you're happy to know that she sees you as attractive as san.

after a short introduction and a few words of praise for san, you are sat on a white couch with golden accents, a champagne in your hand and magazine in the other. the shop assistants offer all the help they can, showing you various gowns they already had and handing you rough sketches. but none of them were good enough. it was hard to pick, when you didn't know what you wanted.

"where's the owner? i thought he would be here." you ask on april's behalf.

"oh, he had urgent business. if you wish, i can schedule another consultation in a few days. or you can wait for him, but he arrives late today."

"how late?" the redhead asks, brows furrowed.

"an hour after closing. but i can keep the shop open for you until he arrives."

april groans, making you chuckle. "you have to go, don't you?"

"yeah. boo. but you should definitely stay. the wedding is two and a half weeks away, and you have no vision of your dream dress. i have five in mind!"

and so you do stay, occupying yourself with browsing various materials of lace, satin and whatnot. each of them are undeniably stunning, with a detail that makes it unique. the last assistant that stayed behind encouraged you to explore the two floors again while she stays downstairs and finishes the remaining paperwork.

your heels click against the marble stairs as you climb to the first floor, eyes skimming the room for the second time today. the dresses on this floor seem more modest, with long sleeves and not as much cleavage. quickly getting bored of the floor, your proceed to the top one. it is extravagant, gowns dripping in sparkles under the strong white lights. once you finish going through all of them, you head over to the show window, examining the two mannequins dressed in two versions of the same gown.

you sigh, feeling disappointed that you are so hard to please. your eyes drift to the streets that have calmed due to the lateness of the night and sudden change in weather. it is pouring, most of the stores are closed, making the wedding boutique stand out in its full glory. a few people pass by, none of them headed to the store and instead clutching their umbrellas close to themselves so they don't get wet. you begin feeling annoyed with the owner. he could've notified you that he had sudden errands, and you would've rescheduled instead of wasting your time coming here at all.

then, you see a figure walking towards the shop. and your heart drops.

it can't be.

you rush to the top of the stairs, careful to not make any noise.

"mr kim! you're drenched! i'll get you a-"

"no need, kendra. it's not that bad."

it is him.

his voice you could recognize anywhere, no matter how long has passed. his figure, his voice, even the footsteps that are getting louder and louder. you are not ready for this encounter.

"you can go home, love. i'll close up after i've finished with..."

"mrs choi."

"right, mrs choi."

so he does not know it is you. and he won't. not until he sees you. you're a fool for not exploring the place first, finding out the name of the owner. and you're a fool for not leaving when april did. at least then she would've maybe told you his name, and you would not come back-

"y/n?"

ever again.

"you're mrs choi?"

you sigh. there is no going back. there is no avoiding it. best get it over with. do you address him professionally? or by his first name? "mr- hongjoong."

he scoffs, and you finally turn around before you stumble on more words. the sight takes your breath away. this is not your ex hongjoong. it is mr kim, owner and designer of wedding gowns. his hair is not a vivid colour as it used to be, instead his natural dark locks match his dark eyes. it is damp, drops of rain falling from the loose strands and on the mopped floor. he wears a black coat, a black turtleneck and slacks. a complete opposite from your blue haired hongjoong who loved his diy sweatshirts and sweatpants. the man stands still, his expression a mix of anger and grief, and yours only astonishment.

"thought you'd see me sleeping on a bench somewhere? beat and hungry? not successful and financially stable? not over you?"

"no, i-"

"wow. who would've thought i'd be making a wedding gown for my ex fiancee." he approaches you, and you don't have energy to step away. instead, you stare as he puts his hands behind his back and casually leans in, face close to yours. "again."

"i-" you try again, feeling his hot breath on your lips.

"well, shall we get to business? before you change your mind faster this time? wouldn't want the poor man to have the same fate as i."

anger, along with regret, pools in the bottom of your stomach. anger that he didn't reach out to you. and regret for what you did that caused him not to.

"choi... choi san? the owner of that watch brand? well, this watch brand." he shows you his wrist, the familiar watch design shining under the boutique lights. "can you believe that? i can afford it and not go bankrupt. i have to admit the prices are whopping, but it is a really nice-"

"can you stop fucking shitting on me and give me a chance to speak?" you interrupt him this time, brows furrowed and nails digging into your palms.

"fine. go." he sits on the couch in the middle of the room, putting his leg over the other.

"that day... i just-"

"no. speak of the design you want." he interrupts again, making that bubble of anger inside of you bigger and bigger, threatening to burst any moment. "you haven't come here to explain yourself. nor did you ever think of doing that. just because i had a few things to say doesn't mean i want to hear you out. now, speak. long? short? sleeves? no sleeves? easier to unzip so you can leave faster without anyone noticing you?"

your palms burn from the intensity of your nails digging into your skin, and your teeth abuse the insides of your cheeks. "fuck you."

hongjoong abruptly stands up from the couch, causing you to stumble back in order to defend yourself. "me? fuck me? what did i ever do to you besides loving you?"

"you didn't listen. if only you did, we could've been married by now. we weren't financially ready then-"

"i had found a job. i saved up. i wanted to surprise you with a new apartment. but you surprised me with my own wedding gown laying on the floor without the love of my life in it. i have to admit, you outdid me there. did not see that one coming."

"i didn't know about your job."

"of course you didn't. you didn't want to know. your family brainwashed you. tell me, is san filthy rich? is he the one paying for this dress?"

his voice is dripping with bitterness, and his sour smile makes your insides turn uncomfortably. you're not used to seeing him be this mean. but something tells you that you will never see the pure side of hongjoong you've known ever again.

"did your parents adore him as soon as they heard his name? after all, he can afford a lavish wedding. he can give you anything you ask for. all i could give you was the ability to disappoint them with your partner choice. my apologies for that, by the way. i should've known better."

"stop. i'm leaving."

"no, you're not. your little assistant made a contract with us, and you are not to leave the shop until you have your dream gown."

"i don't want your fucking gown."

"boo-hoo. cut the tears, dollface. you're not in a position to be sad or angry. i, however, am in a position to chew you out for what you did to me."

"and you're not chewing me out right now?" you reply, angry tears streaming down your face. you hate crying from frustration.

"this is me holding back, my ex lover. you don't wish to hear me unleash."

stubborn, you straighten your back and walk towards him, until you are mere inches away from his face. "unleash, then. let me hear what you've been brewing all those years."

the man doesn't flinch. instead, he hands you a gown from the rack, shoving it into your hands. "go try that on."

"i don't-"

"go."

letting out a shaky exhale, you enter the dressing room. you finally look at yourself in the mirror. slightly smeared mascara, a few wet trails on your cheeks, and frizzy hair. when you put on the dress, you look just like the day of your wedding; dressed up, hopeless, and troubled. it's like deja vu, putting your hair in a claw clip so that you can see the dress better. tears of anger slowly turn into tears of sadness. you have robbed yourself of your first love, and him of his happiness. you turned him into a bitter man.

"suits you." he comments nonchalantly, hands crossed over his chest. "now, i wonder. by the look on your face, you did not know i own this place or design the pieces in it. what did you think i did after you left?"

"i didn't think." a lie.

"did you think i'd drown in tears from sadness?"

"you know, it seems to me that you thought about me more than you wish to admit." you play his game.

"i am not afraid to admit anything. i did think about you. i ran after you. your best friend stopped me. said you were not worth it. that you'll forever let your parents navigate your life. some best friend, huh?"

you didn't hear from her, or anyone else. nobody reached out to you, and you didn't reach out to anybody. it seemed like a mutual silent decision. and it killed you inside.

"try this one." he hands you another. "might be a bit big, but i'll adjust it."

the switch from professional to whatever the other thing is scares you. so you listen. it's the least you can do. you want to get your dress already, and he might get closure. both of you might. the second dress is plain satin with a corset top. it accentuates your eyes, and isn't revealing, with a simple sweetheart neckline. the pearl straps are made to fall off the shoulders, showing off your collarbones. hongjoong had a fixation for your collarbones, always leaving a hickey or two when making love to you.

you look at yourself with disgust. you're choosing a wedding gown for a man of your dreams, and your mind wanders to the way the man outside the dressing room marked your body every chance he got.

"come out, bride." he calls, and you can't tell if he is mocking you or really means it.

you come out, collarbones on full display, and mascara still smeared. he was ready to throw another comment, but upon seeing you, words get stuck in his throat. his jaw drops slightly, and eyes roam your figure hidden in the satin layers. your waist invites him, as does your unmarked skin. and you know desire in his eyes when you see it. and you hate that you feel it pooling in your core as he approaches you.

"you told me to unleash?" he whispers.

"yes. please do." you beg, hoping to finally close this chapter of your life. "don't hold back. i can take it."

he looks at your teary eyes, chewing the inside of his cheek. he always did that when he thought hard. finally, he steps closer, until your chests almost touch. the towers over you, making your head tilt slightly so you can look at him. the sight is too familiar to him; you below him, teary eyed and smeared makeup. the only thing missing being his load coating your cheeks.

"i hate you."

"okay." you gulp, looking at his chest in front of you.

"i hate what you've done to me. i hate that i ever loved you. i hate that you moved on so easily, while i had to stay back and live in a town where everything reminded me of you. i hate that i was so gullible, thinking we could have a future together. i hate that i thought i was good enough for you."

"hongjoong-" you wish to stop him before you break down. but he doesn't. instead, he places a hand on your neck, causing you to gasp and look up at him once again. your hands wrap around his one wrist in hopes of removing it. "hongjoong-"

"most of all..." he pushes you against the wall, putting light pressure on the sides of your neck. he brings his face close to yours, so close that your noses touch and lips brush each other. when he speaks, you feel how soft and warm they are, and hear how venomous his words are. "...i hate that i still fucking love you. i hate how good you look in a dress you wear for another. i hate that another one is kissing you, touching you, giving you everything that i couldn't. i hate how stunning you look, and i hate myself for being so weak to your mere existence. i hate that you look this good, and it is not for me."

"you're hurting me," you sob.

"you're hurting me, mrs choi. after all these years, you still hurt me." two tears escape his eyes, and he shuts them and furrows his eyebrows. "i hate that i can smell him on you."

his grip softens, but he doesn't remove his hand from your neck just yet. you swallow, before letting his wrist go and instead wiping his tears away. he opens his eyes, not expecting a soft approach from you. when he looks at you, you don't see the resentment anymore. you see pure pain. and you hate to admit that you feel the same.

"we could've been perfect together."

"we could've." you confirm, moving his damp strands from his face and brushing his hair in the process. it is as soft as you remember it. he closes his eyes again under your touch, exhaling and letting himself go in your arms.

"please," he whispers. "one last time."

your moves halt, and your brain freezes. your heart thumps loud inside your chest, and you're sure he can feel it too. "what?"

"one last time." the dark haired man allows his hand to slide from your neck, index finger following an imaginary line down your neck and running over your collarbones. "let me give you a chance to change your mind."

you wish to say no. with all your heart. you love san, more than anything. you've grown with san, you've created a new future with him. but your love for hongjoong is... familiar. old. nostalgic. and still undead. it was buried alive, and you didn't even know it.

"please..." his whispers become softer, and lips closer to yours.

"don't..." you try, voice an equal whisper.

"please," he begs again, his other hand sliding to your waist and pressing your body against his.

"don't," you say, voice shaking as you fight your brain and heart, both already at war with each other.

he closes the distance, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. it is a split second, but in that second, he opens the pandora's box, unleashing everything bad about you. you gulp, feeling his scent envelop you. he smells like rain and jasmine, and it blends with his natural scent so well.

"please," he kisses you again, each kiss short and sweet, and full of pain and desire.

"don't."

"please."

"don't..." the hand that was on your collarbones slides to the zip on the back of the dress, undoing it smoothly and loosening your dress. "stop..."

he kisses you again, spilling begging words over and over, and you do not push him away, despite your words. "please."

"don't..." you exhale when his hands cup your bare breasts. "stop."

"y/n."

"don't stop."

"my love."

"don't stop."

"my beautiful."

"don't stop."

"my only one."

"please don't stop."

as if you shattered the invisible wall that held him back, hongjoong lets your dress pool on the floor and picks you up, pinning you against the wall and making your legs wrap around his body. his lips hungrily search for yours, kissing, sucking, biting, everything he dreamed of for the past few years you were gone.

your hands roam his body, taking off his coat and helping him out of his turtleneck. your tongue finds his, eager to taste him again. you hum the moment you touch the hot muscle, which generously gives you back equal attention. he tastes the same. he tastes like home.

"i should've ran until my legs stopped working. i should've called until my finger became numb. i should've called out your name until my voice faded." with each sentence, he gets rid of a piece of clothing, until your bare bodies are pressed against each other on the soft couch.

you don't speak, instead pulling him by his hair to kiss him again. he chuckles lightly into the kiss, your eagerness amusing to him. you're not in the mood for any foreplay, core already dripping with arousal and desire to feel him after many years.

"i want you to say it out loud." he stops for a moment, looking deep into your eyes.

"don't make me say it."

"i need you to. otherwise, i'm leaving."

"hongjoong..." guilt eats up your heart, the image of san appearing before your eyes.

"say it. say you want me. say you want me to make love to you and send you back to your future husband with my marks and scent all over you."

"i want you." you whisper.

"what was that?" he leans in closer, holding your jaw in one hand while his other one gently spreads your legs.

"i want you, hongjoong."

"atta girl." he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "i won't be gentle."

you nod, excitement overshadowing the guilt from your infidelity. hongjoong doesn't let you adjust like he always did. instead, he places his hot, leaking tip to your entrance, and slides in easily and deeply. your nails dig into his back, and walls welcome the familiar girth. you both moan into each others mouths, and stand still for a few moments. it is the sudden moment of realization when you look at each other than makes his eyes become darker, and he spares no time before pulling out and slamming his hips against yours again.

his lips leave yours, letting you moan and whine freely as your fingers pull at his hair. his tongue leaves a trail down your neck, all the way to your collarbones. he sinks his teeth into your skin, pulling the thin flesh between them and harshly sucking. you yelp, but don't push him away. you'll let him have this. you don't feel it after the second bite, instead focusing on the way his cock relentlessly slams into you, abusing the sensitive spot and inching you closer to an orgasm already.

his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises, and right now, you do not care how you will conceal it.

"hongjoong..." you gasp.

"yes, doll?"

"i need- i don't want to cum yet." you admit.

he pulls away, enough to turn your body over so that you are laying on your stomach. he raises your hips, and presses your head against the soft surface of the couch. then, he slams his hips into yours, speeding up his moves. you are a moaning and drooling mess, not being used to being used this roughly. san was passionate, and not soft. but not rough either. hongjoong is just that: his hatred for you might be the main initiator.

"i'll send you back to your fiancé full of my seed." he growls, pulling your hair back.

your nails dig into the cushions, and eyes look at the mannequins in the show window. you don't have time to feel guilty again, because hongjoong wraps his hand around your neck and picks up your body so that your head rests on his shoulder and you can look at him as he drills into you from behind.

"look at me when i'm fucking you."

your hips hopelessly work with his, body tired from chasing the orgasm already.

"is my darling tired?"

you simply whimper at his question, the grip on your neck too strong for any other response. he pulls away once again, wasting no time in picking you up and walking over to the mirror. he lets you face it, palms pressed against the cold surface. he slides back in, deliciously filling you up to the brim. your own expressions of pleasure sicken you. and you hate that you are loving it.

hongjoong looks at you through the mirror, soft grunts and gasps escaping his mouth each time he collides with your ass. his hand finds its way to your mouth, shoving two fingers inside while his other one toys with your clit.

"look at you." he says, eyes locked with yours. you're unable to look away. "taking your ex man's cock while you try on wedding dresses for another."

you simply moan, not knowing what to say. it is hot, and painful.

"does your fiancé know you'll be wearing my dress when you walk down the aisle? does he know that the hands that made it have also been on his future wife's body?"

when you don't answer, he hits your ass cheek, causing you to jolt. "no, no! he doesn't! please, please make me cum."

"i'll let you cum. if you tell me one thing." he brings your body close to his again so he can whisper in your ear. his hips stop for a moment.

"anything." you whine.

"is his cock better than mine?"

there is no better. both of them have their ways of pleasuring you, and you enjoy both. you pull away and turn around to face him. you skim over his features, taking in his glowing face due to sweat and body full of scratches from your nails. the nails you are supposed to have for your wedding.

"no." you finally reply.

"that's a good fucking girl."

hongjoong pushes you against the mirror, this time facing you. he holds your legs over his elbows, body hovering above the floor and back pressed against the mirror. he reaches a new angle, and this time, you know you'll burst fast. all you need is a few more strokes.

"cum for me, baby. cream all over my cock."

your nails continue to dig into his back, and your forehead finds comfort against his. you moan into each others mouths, each chasing your own peak and enjoying the noises that the other has to offer. when you finally spill over the edge, you moan louder than ever, hands hopelessly pushing his body against yours for comfort. his pants turn into moans, and hips become sloppy as he also reaches his peak and shoots his load inside you. you feel fuller than ever, hole clenching around his pulsating cock. you help him ride it out, moving your hips as best as you can from this position.

once down from the high, you bring yourself to look at him one more time.

"i'll never see you again after this, will i?" he whispers, lips already missing yours.

"no, hongjoong. our story is over. i'm sorry."

he only smiles, pressing a final kiss to your lips before pulling away. he leaves to get something to clean yourself, leaving you alone in the room.

your reflection stares back at you through the stained mirror, prints of your body clear as day. bruises decorate your body after a long time, and your makeup melts from your face. facing hongjoong was a challenge.

facing san will be an even bigger one.

as if he knew you thought about him, the phone rings inside your purse in the dressing room. you rush over there, fingers eager to press the green button.

"hey, wifey. how's the gown shopping going?"

"it's-" your voice comes out raspy, and you have to cough to get rid of it. "it's going well. i think i finally know what i want." and you don't mean the dress.

"oh, i'm so proud of you. i can't wait to see you in it. “you’ll look stunning. should i pick you up?"

"you don't have to. i'll be there in a few."

"alright, princess. i love you."

"i love you too."

once you hang up, you exit the room and find hongjoong waiting with the towel. his eyes are glossy, but he holds control over the tears this time. "you know i'll always hate you."

you laugh, pain ripping through your heart at the words. "i know."

"good."

he gets on his knees, cleaning you in silence, before whispering something. if you weren't focused on every sound he made, you would've missed it.

"don't forget me."

taglist:

@unholywriters @jjoongstar @arki-sha @dawn-iscozy @slvtiny @maltesejjong @ate-ez @katelins27 @kodzukein @almondmilkeu @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @itza-meee

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finelinevogue · 19 days ago

Note

Hiii, I love ur work and I’m so down bad for Hotch rn :) I was wondering if you could write something like he’s always opening doors for her or pulling out her seat and just cute littler mannerisms he does for his BAU gf :)❤️

omg hi thank you so much my lovely! i’m so in love with this ask tysm!! <3

pairing - aaron hotchner x girlfriend!reader

word count - +1k

Aaron Hotchner’s love language was acts of service.

He wasn’t very confident with his words, having historically always managed to say the wrong things to the people closest to him.

What Aaron hadn’t quite understood, however, was that his actions were often ten times louder than his words. He didn’t have to constantly reassure you he loved you in words, because he was always doing something to show you he did.

1. He holds the doors open for you

It had been moving office day.

You were struggling to balance all your boxes in your arms at the same time as looking over them to watch where you’re going.

After climbing up the stairs from the third floor to the fourth floor, you came across the glass doors to enter the main office area.

“Sorry, excuse me…” You said as a man walked past, but he didn’t stop.

“Hi, sorry to bother you…” A woman walked by but didn’t stop either.

You sighed, trying to peer for where the door handle was without dropping anything.

Luckily your new boss, and boyfriend, came to your rescue.

“Honey, careful. What are you trying to do?” Hotch appeared at your side, taking off a box from the top of your pile and opening the door all in one sweep.

He held the door open for you to walk through first, looking over you to make sure you’re okay.

“Everyone’s clearly having an off day. No one would help me open the door, even when I asked politely.” You pouted.

“Give me names.” Hotch said seriously as you walked through the door.

“Aaron…”

“Names, please.”

2. He peels your oranges

It had been a weekend and you and Aaron hadn’t been on a case, so you were both enjoying some time together at home.

Aaron had just asked you to pause the movie you’d been watching whilst he went and got you both a snack.

He had been gone too long now and so you had to investigate - like the special agent you are.

“Aaron? Love?” You called out.

You walked into the kitchen to find him stood behind the counter, peeling an orange - your favourite fruit.

There was a little bowl of melted chocolate and a little bowl of strawberries which had been cut and sliced the way you like.

He continued to peel the orange and take off all the white stringy bits, the way he knew you liked it to be. It made it easy to eat for you without getting your hands the slightest bit messy.

“Honey.” You pouted with loving eyes.

He was just the best.

“What?” He smirked, showing off a dimple he only reserved for you.

“You know what.” You said, rounding the counter to hug him from behind. You held him tight, squeezing your love into him the best you could.

You loved and appreciated him so much and after everything he does for you, a hug was the least he deserved.

3. He warms your clothes

An odd act of affection that Aaron does that you love is when he warms your clothes.

You remember one time when you had gone to visit a friend after work and had come home late all you could think about was having a cup of tea, getting into your pyjamas and going to bed.

Luckily your boyfriend knew you all too well and had prepared.

You’d come home and everything was ready.

You dropped your keys on the kitchen counter with an exhausted sigh of relief.

Your boyfriend walked into the room moments later, empty cup of coffee in his hand ready to wash. How he drinks coffee this late you’ll never try to understand.

“Hey.” You smiled tiredly.

Aaron rounded the counter and leant down to give you a kiss. It was slow and sweet, feeling like you have all the time in the world when you’re in your home together.

“Hey.” He pulled away to kiss your forehead. “How was Claire?”

“Oh you know? Marital troubles as usual.”

“No. I don’t know.” Aaron washed out his cup as he spoke, giving you a hearty smile.

“And you never will know marital troubles if you keep washing your dishes like that.” You cheekily slapped his ass and he gave you a chuckle in response.

Just before you could leave the room Aaron called your name.

“Your clothes are on the radiator to keep them warm and there’s a tea on your bedside table.”

You just stared at him whilst he dried his now clean mug - it was the one you had bought him as one of the first gifts you gave him, because back then you didn’t want to seem like you were coming on too strong.

It almost made you want to cry with how thoughtful he was. Keeping your clothes warm and making you a tea were kind of the bare minimum in societies books, but in yours it was the mark of true love and going above and beyond.

“Aaron, baby?”

“Yeah?”

“If that was your way of proposing, then yes I’ll marry you.”

4. PDA

If there was one thing that Aaron hated, it was PDA. Which is why it was all the more special when it did happen.

You remember this one time where you were on your way back from a case and on the jet.

“I don’t get why you two don’t share a hotel room when we’re on a case? You’d save the Bureau hundreds.” Morgan said, from where he was sat across from Hotch.

Morgan had noticed that Hotch kept looking at your uncomfortable frame trying to get some sleep on the chair next to him. It really was killing Hotch not to help you.

Hotch looked up at Morgan.

“We discussed it with HR. They said it wasn’t workplace appropriate.” Hotch answered in the most cryptic way possible.

“Mhm.”

“Doesn’t stop them from sneaking into each others rooms like a pair of coming-of-age teenagers.” Emily joked, but she was more a less correct.

“What HR doesn��t know, they don’t know.” Hotch said and that shut down that conversation.

“Well they won’t know if you hold her to sleep then either, will they boss man?” Morgan suggested, before getting up from the chairs and going to sit on the sofa with Reid.

Hotch looked over your trying-to-sleep body.

You had heard the entire conversation, but had been too tired to open your eyes or contribute in any way.

It was only when you felt your boyfriends hands move the arm rest up between you both that you became restless.

“C’mon.” He spoke softly to you.

His hands helped guide you to move in your chair, until your body was angled back against Hotch’s side.

One of his arms came around your body to hold you in place securely against him. The other came to hold your hand in his, making sure you were tightly held for comfort more than anything.

“Love you.” He whispered into your hairline.

“Mm.” You responded, too tired to form a coherent response but Aaron knew what you meant nevertheless. He always did.

#aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year ago

Text

it's not ever what it looks like

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is saying you're sorry'

rated m | 3,299 words | cw: language, implied sexual content | tags: angst with a happy ending, arguing, established relationship, hurt/comfort, rock star eddie munson, teacher steve harrington, modern au, steve thinks eddie is cheating on him but HE ISN'T I PROMISE, marriage proposal

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

It wasn't the first time Steve woke up to pictures and articles about Eddie being seen with some model or actor, but it was the first time he'd actually been worried.

Eddie had been distant lately. Usually, when he was on tour, he'd call Steve on his lunch break and text him when he got off of work, and he'd try to Facetime him after his show if it wasn't in a different time zone.

But for the past week or so, he had excuses. They sounded legitimate until one of the afternoons he said the band was caught up in an interview so he couldn't call and Jeff called him ten minutes later to ask where Eddie was. Even with that, Steve hadn't assumed he was cheating.

Steve figured maybe Eddie was just tired or his social battery had run out. Those kinds of things happened before occasionally.

But not daily for over a week.

He was barely even responding to texts, and the ones he did respond to were hours later and hardly adding to any conversation.

And now this article.

There was a picture of Eddie standing with his arm around some guy who was taller than him, both of them laughing, looking at each other like...well. Steve knew that look because it'd only ever been pointed at him, but now he was seeing it pointed at just some guy.

The headline read EDDIE MUNSON GIVING UP HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART FOR SUPERMODEL SUPERSTAR?

Steve decided the only way through this was to read the entire article. At least then he could probably convince himself they were wrong.

Except the article went on to explain how Eddie hadn't brough Steve to any shows yet this tour, and how he'd been flirting more with the crowd after the show instead of just during it, how he was seen at two bars over the last week when he usually doesn't go out after shows.

It went on to say that these pictures were taken shortly after they'd been seen sneaking away from a group of people they'd been hanging out with and that they seemed very close for the entire night. The article said the guy was a male lingerie model who made it big posing for Gucci last year. He'd just landed his first film role as a supporting actor and was looking to land a lead role soon.

Steve hated him. And he was getting a terrible feeling in his gut about what was going on.

He had 26 unread texts, most of them from Robin, Dustin, and Gareth.

All of them had said mostly the same things:

I can't get ahold of Eddie.

He wouldn't do this.

Something else is going on.

Call me when you can.

The last one was Gareth, and it's not that he and Gareth weren't close, but they never talked on the phone.

He tried not to think about he didn't have a single message or missed call from Eddie.

Steve called Gareth.

"Steve. Shit, I'm glad you called."

"What's going on?"

Gareth sighed. "Ed's kinda losing it. But before you call him-"

"Why would I call him? Shouldn't he be the one to call me? If he wants to be with some supermodel, he should probably be the one to break up with me, right?" Steve could feel tears gathering in his eyes, stinging the back of his throat. "I'm not sure why I have to be the one to hurt and do the breaking up."

"Steve-"

"Is there something you needed Gareth? Or were you just trying to defend your friend?"

"There's nothing to defend! I swear-"

"Yeah. Well. Tell him to call me if he wants to explain anything, I guess."

Steve hung up just before a sob ripped from his throat.

He never had to worry about Eddie being a famous rock star, spending 6-7 months of the year gone, meeting all kinds of flashy celebrities. Eddie loved him so much, he never had any doubt that he'd always be his first choice.

Until now.

It was a shitty feeling and he had to be at work in less than an hour.

No time to wallow.

He sent a quick text to Robin to let her know he was okay, but needed to focus on getting through work, then shut off his phone.

"Is everything okay?" the art teacher, Mrs. Phineas, asked him on their lunch break. "You seem out of it today."

"Just a migraine," Steve gave a half-smile, hoped it was enough to convince her to leave him alone. He still hadn't turned on his phone, and at this point, he didn't really want to.

She tilted her head to the side. "When are you off to see your man?"

"Don't know," he shrugged, ignoring the tug in his stomach, the sudden weight in his chest.

"Ah," she said, turning back to her soup. "Something happened."

"Nothing happened!"

"You look two seconds away from crying," she gave him a deadpan look. "Did he hurt you?"

Mrs. Phineas was a little older than Wayne, close to retirement, and had been his closest friend from the moment he started teaching at this school nearly six years ago. He'd told her everything about Eddie, their relationship, his hopes of Eddie taking a longer break after this tour so they could have some time just the two of them, maybe make a real plan for their future.

Steve nodded once.

Her hand covered his and she squeezed his fingers in her own. "I may not know him half as well as I know you, but I know that boy loves you. You two will get through this, whatever it is."

"I dunno if we will," Steve whispered, scared to speak louder and risk the tears falling. He'd been doing so well today.

She patted his hand and went back to eating, saying nothing else about it.

His students had caught on early that he wasn't quite his usual self, and the group of second graders had been on their best behavior because of it. As the dismissal bell rang and he started calling for bus riders to line up, someone walked through his door.

Eddie walked through his door.

He bit back the anger, knowing his students loved Eddie and wouldn't know he was here for any reason other than to say hello.

"Mr. Munson!" A few of them yelled as most of them ran up to him instead of getting in the line Steve asked them to.

"Hi kiddos!" Eddie was faking it, but luckily the students couldn't tell. "Sorry, but you guys have to listen to Mr. H right now. I promise I will come say hi again tomorrow."

The students grumbled about it and Steve took in his appearance.

He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn't slept the night before, his hair was in a messy bun instead of perfectly arranged to fall on his shoulders, and he was wearing Steve's hoodie that had suspiciously gone missing the last time he'd been home.

The fact that Steve's first thought was how badly he wanted to pull him into a hug was not a good sign.

He checked names off the list as they filtered out the door and then called the car riders to line up. He went through the list and made sure everyone made it into the hall where they'd be called when their parent pulled up before turning back to Eddie.

He closed his door and made his way to his desk, ignoring the way Eddie awkwardly stood by one of the student desks in the front.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, signing off of his work email and organizing tomorrow's lesson plan.

"I needed to explain-"

"Right."

"That article wasn't supposed to come out yet."

Steve's jaw dropped. So he wasn't going to deny it, he was just gonna act like it was the media's fault for releasing it before he could talk to Steve.

"Yeah. So you decided to come break up with me in person because you got caught cheating instead of doing it over the phone right before the article hit online. Got it."

Steve was not going to cry about this. Not in front of Eddie.

He was going to go home, shower, try to eat something, and then he was going to cry for the next 10 hours.

"No, Steve, you don't understand."

"You're right, I don't. I don't understand how you could throw away a 10 year relationship for a model who doesn't even know your middle name. I don't understand how you can fly all the way here and interrupt my day at my job to try to explain to me why you were so cozy with a guy who doesn't even know that you like your hot chocolate with Bailey's instead of regular milk. I really don't understand how you couldn't even bother to text or call me one single time since the article to even try to explain anything." Steve wiped his eyes furiously, angry that his tears were betraying him. "I don't understand why you would expect me to care for reasons."

Eddie wordlessly picked Steve's phone up off the desk and powered it on. He set it down in front of Steve and waited.

Texts and calls and emails came through all at once, hundreds of notifications lighting up his screen.

Many of them from Eddie himself.

"Go ahead. Open them," Eddie didn't sound mad, he just sounded resigned.

So Steve read through the texts, many of them different renditions of 'please Steve, call me' and 'I love you sweetheart I'm sorry.' Not promising.

But then he started playing the voicemails.

"Stevie, it's really not what it looks like. It's never what it looks like. You know that. Please call me as soon as you can. I love you."

"I can explain everything if you call me back. I promise you it isn't anything more than a business thing. Everyone in the band can tell you. I swear. Just. Please."

"I'm getting on a flight to you now. I'm gonna keep trying to call you even when I land. I need you to know what's going on."

"Just landed. I'm on my way to you. The guys are a little pissed, but you're more important than the show tonight. I'm not doing my own thing until I know you understand."

Steve looked up at him, tears still falling down his face.

"Well?" He asked, broken.

"His name is Wyatt. He's trying to make it in the acting world and he was pretty much told he was the top choice for playing lead in a movie that's in early stages of development," Eddie spoke quickly.

"Great for him."

"It's actually great for all of us. The movie is a biopic of Corroded Coffin. He's expected to play me."

At any other time, Steve would be proud, he'd be jumping up and down at this chance for them, and he'd be kissing Eddie without a care in the world.

But he still saw that picture and that article, and no matter how much "business" was going on, it was pretty clear that wasn't all that was going on.

"So you thought sleeping with him would help him get into the role? Or did you just wanna get into him?" Steve bit back.

"The article was wrong! The picture was just really conveniently timed! You know the media are vultures, Stevie. How many times have they written about us breaking up? How many times have they said Gareth and I have secretly been married for the last two years? How many times have they tried to post shitty things about your relationship before me to prove that you can't possibly be queer?" Eddie pulled Steve to his feet and cupped his face in his hands. "I've been spending the last two weeks talking with him and the producer and the guys to see what might work best for production. They want us involved in as much of the writing and filming part as possible. And he had time in his schedule to come to a show last night, so we all took him out after so he could get a taste of what it's like for us. He's really excited for the role and all of us are really excited for the movie."

Steve felt stupid. Well, maybe not stupid. His feelings were valid and he wasn't dramatic about what he'd seen.

But he did feel a little shitty about doubting Eddie.

Eddie, who had literally flown across the country to explain in person so that there was no way Steve could misunderstand him. Eddie, who once Doordashed him soup from his favorite restaurant when he was sick even though he was in Europe. Eddie, who sent letters to the kids in his class once a month to talk about how important music is and following your dreams. Eddie, who loved him for ten years and wouldn't have let anyone get in the way of what they'd built.

Steve fell against Eddie, buried his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, his voice saying something against his shoulder. Steve couldn’t hear him, but he didn’t think he needed to.

He just needed to feel him.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said against his neck. Tears soaked the hoodie under him, and Steve could feel tears against his own button down. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone until the article hit, but I was still gonna call you and warn you but I didn’t and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. This is part of the whole lifestyle. I should be used to it,” Steve shuddered as Eddie’s hand scratched at his scalp. “I should’ve reacted better.”

“We both didn’t treat this the way we should’ve.”

Steve snorted, nodded as he found the spot Eddie had tattooed on his neck a couple years earlier. He pressed his lips over the tattoo of his lip print.

“You flew across the country over this,” Steve pulled away and looked at Eddie, vision blurred from crying. “Just to make things okay.”

“I needed you to know. I needed to hold you. I needed to have you in front of me. And I wanted to celebrate the fact that we’re getting a movie about our lives,” Eddie smirked. “I wonder who will play you. Someone with a nice ass is a must. Their hair will have to defy gravity. Don’t know if they’ll find anyone with that smile, though.”

“Me? Why would they need anyone to play me?” Steve played with the string of the hoodie. “That might be kinda boring.”

“How would they make a movie about me and not include you? You’re the reason I ever made it past Hawkins, sweet thing,” Eddie leaned in to kiss his bottom lip. “Maybe they’ll just cast you. No one else could pull it off.”

“Eds-“ Steve blushed. “Wait. Okay, I trust you, but what were you doing in the picture?”

Eddie laughed. “He had just finished telling me about his boyfriend who lives in Italy. He’s apparently just a regular guy in finance who has no interest in the whole fame thing. Sound familiar?”

“Sounds like you two have a lot in common.”

“The picture was me asking if we could crash at their home in Italy next summer on our honeymoon,” Eddie said casually.

Steve froze. “Honeymoon?”

“I’m open to other places, but you still haven’t been to Italy and I know how much you wanted to see Rome and Florence,” Eddie was smirking.

That bastard.

“You are ridiculous, you know that? I’m over here planning how I’ll survive a breakup with you and you fly across the country to propose with a honeymoon planned before I’ve even said yes! You know how crazy that sounds, right?” Steve shook his head. “You’re lucky I love you. You’re lucky I’m not interested in big romantic gestures.”

“Damn. Hold on, let me make a call,” Eddie reached into his pocket for his phone.

“What?”

“I gotta cancel the big romantic gesture,” Eddie explained as he typed furiously on his phone.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It was a whole thing. Robin was involved. There may have been 500 flowers ordered. I think it’s too late to cancel the singing telegram though.”

“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re being serious,” Steve wouldn’t be surprised if at least some of that was true.

“Oh, I’m serious. The ring was being set on the bed in the middle of a heart made of rose petals. I didn’t half-ass a fucking thing, angel.”

Steve pulled his phone out of his hands and set it on his desk. “Don’t cancel anything. I changed my mind. I am very much into big romantic gestures when it’s you doing them.”

“It was a team effort. I mean, I had to move it all up unexpectedly, but this was all gonna happen next month when I came home." Eddie pulled Steve into a long kiss, tongue tracing his lips. He pulled away to rest their foreheads together. "I'm not doing this just because of what happened, but I need you to know you're it for me. You've stuck by me through failing senior year, through being broke trying to book gigs all over the midwest, through the stress of our first album being released and the unexpected overnight fame, every album and tour since then, every time I've had to miss things that matter to you because of the band, all of it. You love me anyway. I don't always deserve it, but I'm grateful."

Steve's lips pressed against Eddie's again. "I love the life we have. I love you."

"I'm not asking you without the ring. I made so many plans. Robin will murder me in my sleep if I don't go through with them," Eddie laughed. "So can we get out of your classroom before I do something inappropriate and get you fired?"

"I mean," Steve glanced at the clock. "Technically all the students should be gone. We could lock the door..."

"Steven Harrington! How dare you suggest I fuck you over your desk in a school! I can't believe you would tell me to unbutton your jeans," he said as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And get on my knees." He got on his knees. "And suck you until you can't stand anymore."

"Eddie!" Steve chuckled, shoving his hand in Eddie's hair. "We should at least lock the door."

"So you're not saying no?"

"Why would I say no?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Eddie got back up and ran to the door, flipping the lock and turning back to Steve with flushed cheeks. "This is like, maybe three of my biggest fantasies in one, so I may actually come in my pants."

"You're ridiculous."

"Baby boy, my hand is my only friend on tour, you know that. How can I possibly hold myself back when I've got your dick in my mouth?" Eddie dropped to his knees again, looking up at Steve with something close to reverence.

"It's not in your mouth yet," Steve smirked as he tugged his waistband down enough to free his cock.

"Oh, I missed you," Eddie said directly to Steve's hard cock. "Steve, I want you to fuck my mouth until I pass out."

"I'm not doing that."

"Okay, well I'll settle for until I have to tap out."

"Fine. But it's not gonna be long for me," Steve shook his head. "Missed you, too."

"The sooner the better, sweetheart."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is saying you're sorry #angst with a happy ending #established relationship #hurt/comfort #rock star eddie munson #teacher steve harrington #arguing #modern au #marriage proposals

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wonwoonlight · 2 years ago

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when mingyu takes jungkook's advice but forgets about one (1) thing

fluff // idol!au // mingyu is dumb in love // sex implied but this drabble is nothing but fluff!!!!!

It's three in the morning when Mingyu turns on the live.

He's still high on adrenaline for some reason; the whole day has been great and not one single thing went wrong even though some schedules got him worried at first. His meals were all exactly to his liking, his exercise went like a breeze, and he got to see you.

Perhaps the last one is what makes him so high. After all, it's been a little over a month since he saw you and finally being able to see you and feel you... gosh it was the closest feeling he would describe as euphoric.

You're currently sleeping in his room, blisfully unaware that your boyfriend has turned on his live just one room away.

"Hi." He grins and waves at the camera. "If you remember I told you some time ago that I'd start listening to a certain senior... here I am."

He fixes his hoodie over his head, happy that the fans seem happy with his wardrobe: a grey sleeveless hoodie with nothing underneath.

"I look like your boyfriend?" His grins widen, his mind flying to you. "Your boyfriend must be very handsome then."

"Hmmm, why do I look happy when it's 3 in the morning? Why? Am I not allowed to be happy at this hour?" He comes closer to his screen to look at the comments. "I'm not drunk! But I might’ve had a liiiiittle bit of alcohol earlier."

The live continues on like that, and between all the crazy things he's seen Jungkook did, he's starting to see why the guy is fond of doing lives at this hour. As an idol, he's usually wide awake at ungodly hours, and even though he knew the company and Seungcheol would have his head tomorrow, he can't be bothered to care at this moment.

He's blaming it on the alcohol too. But by the time he even remotely considers something might go very wrong, he's having too much fun with his fans and he's way too drunk on the happy feeling from everything that has happened during the past 24 hours.

"It's okay. If I get scolded then I get scolded." He addresses the fans' concerns. "They probably won't reupload this so consider this a present for all of you here, okay? Let's have fun while we're at it."

"Mmmmh. Is there nothing fun? Tell me something fun." He frowns as he squints at his screen, trying to read through the comments.

"What I'm wearing underneath this?" He grins teasingly and tugs the neck of his hoodie. "What do you think?"

It's seconds later that the comment section goes crazy, and he blinks in confusion, trying to see why people are screaming. It doesn't help that no one gives him any context until he finally catches one single comment that gets his heart beating so loud he can hear it on his ears.

Was that hickey on your collarbone???

He continues to play stupid, answers some questions that he made up in his mind while pretending to look for one in the comment sections, stays on live for another five minutes before he says he's starting to get sleepy so he needs to go.

He stares into space for a good ten minutes after he turns off the live.

He's fucked.

He's so fucked.

How the fuck is he going to explain this to the company and all of his members tomorrow? At least he's actually been considering going public with you for quite some time, have talked about it with his members and the company also, but this isn't how he imagined it would be.

Biting his lip, he's too lost in his thoughts to realize you've stepped out of your room, looking a little lost also, wondering why he's in the living room.

"Why are you not in bed?" You ask adorably, rubbing your eyes as you plop on the sofa besides him. "And why is your phone propped like that?"

His arm wraps around you and pulls you to his chest, already imagining not having to hide you away anymore after whatever hurricane that will pass tomorrow.

But.

First thing first.

"Babe." He squeezes your shoulder, already feeling sorry at your sleepy hum because he's sure you won't be sleepy after this. But whatever, imagining his future self showing you off to everyone is going to be worth it.

He grins when you look up in confusion, the dangerous grin that you know is up for trouble.

"We might have a problem. "

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu au #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #khione.fics #mingyu scenario #mingyu imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen au #mingyu x reader #mingyu drabble #seventeen drabble #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fic

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fandoms-writings · 8 months ago

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Let Go

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x college!reader (Part 3)

Word Count: 6.9K

Summary: Enough is enough. It's time to put your foot down with Bucky. You're tired of being hidden, but that means a whole new dynamic to your relationship - and a hard conversation.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY , making out, fingering, p in v sex, subby!bucky makes an appearance, Mentions of past sex acts, angst (this one is SAD for a little guys sorry), reader standing up for herself, confessions, bucky being a big ole dummy, cuss words ( I think that's it lol)

Part 1, 2 || Bucky Masterlist || Masterpost

Sorry! Can we raincheck?

Miles is down with a fever, can we reschedule?

I've got a surprise exam in the morning, I'll have to pass tonight.

The messages from your friends glared at you from your phone screen as you read them over and over. You hadn't actually opened them, they just sat in your inbox, one right after the other.

Great. You sighed, glancing around the street corner where you were supposed to meet your friends for a night out. Your best cocktail dress clung to your hips as you shifted from heeled foot to heeled foot. You'd wanted to spend the night with your friends, finally taking a break from all the assignments and exams and responsibilities you had.

But now, you stood alone outside the club, your uber already gone, and some guys eyeing you as they went in, giving you the wrong kind of chills.

You huffed a breath and raised your phone back up, pulling up a number you haven't had the time to call - you were busy getting a degree - but that didn't stop him from trying to reach you. Bucky's name stared at you as your thumb hovered over the dial button.

You took a breath to steady yourself as you pressed it and raised the phone to your ear. You hadn't seen Bucky in weeks, not that you didn't want to. You'd just been busy with classes and projects.

And trying to get a hold over the feelings you had for him - the type of feelings you absolutely could not have for your fathers friend.

He answered on the third ring, his voice and loud music coming through the speaker, "Hey!"

"Hey, Buck," You couldn't help the way his voice made your heart start racing, even if he was just over the phone. "Are you busy?"

"Not at all," His side got quieter as you heard a door slam shut, "What's going on?"

"I was supposed to go out with some friends tonight, but they've all bailed. I was going to ask if you wanted to come out. I'm already downtown." You told him the name of the club you were standing in front of and he confirmed he knew of it.

"I can be there in twenty minutes," He said and you could hear the smile in his voice, "Or ten if I run."

"I'll wait inside for you," You smiled. At least you wouldn't be alone for the night and getting this dolled up wasn't a total waste of your time.

You hung up before heading inside, letting the loud music rattle your bones as you made your way to the bar to order a drink and wait.

~~~

The next fifteen minutes flew by faster than you thought they would've, nursing your drink and watching people dance against each other helped. But when those familiar hands landed on the bar next to you, you decided it was worth the wait.

Bucky looked like he ran, his eyes clear and wild, his chest rising and falling at an uneven pace - though it was clear he was trying to steady it.

"Where'd you come from?" You asked, a small smirk on your lips.

"I was at the bar a few blocks down when you called. Started running as soon as you hung up," He said, sliding closer to your side, leaning to purr into your ear, "I've missed you."

"Hm, have you now?" You fluttered your lashes up at him, and his smile grew.

"I have," His eyes flicked between yours then down to your lips and back up, "You've been so busy, I barely get to see you. It's a miracle I get texts back when I do."

You laughed at that, "Well sorry I'm trying to actually pass my classes with more than just C's"

He chuckled before smirking, "Did you miss me at all?"

You let out a dramatic sigh, "A bit."

"Ouch, only a bit, huh? Did I not make a lasting enough impression on you last time we got together?" The moment flashed in your mind - the dingy dive bar, the locked bathroom door, the cool mirror at your back, the counter under you ass, the arms holding your legs open, the way his lips felt on your neck, his hips snapping into yours -

You pushed the memory from your mind as you felt your core go molten and your skin heat. Bucky knew as his smirk grew that he did indeed make a lasting impression, but chose not to say anything as you slid off the barstool, standing in front of him.

"I want to dance," You downed the rest of your drink before lifting your chin at him. He chuckled before shifting out of your way, letting you lead the way to the dance floor.

You didn't even get to take one step before a familiar voice called both of your names. Your heart dropped out of your ass and your skin turned ice as you turned to see one of Bucky's friends - one who also knew your father.

"Sam!" Bucky smiled, clapping the other man on the shoulder, "What are you doing here?"

"The wife wanted to have a night out dancing, and this was the spot her friends recommended, so here I am," he smiled, turning to you, "Hey you, I haven't seen you since that barbecue at your dads over the summer. How are you?"

You pushed a smile to your lips, hoping it came across as natural as you stepped forward to give Sam a quick side hug. "Good, just needed the same thing your wife wanted - a night out."

"I see," He glanced between you and Bucky, "So, did you two come together or. . ?"

Your knees felt weak and you were glad you hadn't made it far from your barstool as you leaned on it for support. If Sam found out, there was no way he wouldn't tell you dad, and you dad sure as hell could never know about you and Bucky. But before you could respond, or even try to come up with something that didn't sound suspicious as fuck, Bucky's voice filled the silence.

"No, I was walking back from the bar on 9th when I saw her standing outside," He smoothly said, putting a friendly hand on your shoulder, "She said her friends canceled so I offered to buy her a drink before she went all the way back home."

It wasn't a total lie, but something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. The easy lie and simple dismissal of you two being there together, how it was just a coincidence.

"Oh well I'm sorry," Sam looked at you with too much pity and you fought to keep your smile as you waved him off.

"It's fine, don't worry," You took a breath, "I should probably go home though."

"What? You just got here," Bucky argued and you shrugged.

"My friends aren't coming, I'm not going to dance by myself."

"Come hang out with us!" Sam exclaimed, adding a teasing, "Unless you think we're too old for you." Oh how wrong he was with that.

"I don't want to be a bother," You said, "Really, I'll be okay."

"No no no, c'mon," Sam got his wife's attention, pointed to you and you saw her face light up. "I think she wants to dance with you."

"Okay, okay, I'll dance for a little bit," You laughed, following Sam to meet his wife on the floor, Bucky at your back.

You tried to glance over your shoulder to get his attention, to convey how nervous you were - how nervous he should be, but he wasn't even looking at you anymore. His eyes were flitting around the dance floor.

It was so easy for him to pretend nothing was happening between you two, to pretend like whatever you two had didn't exist. You fought off the uneasiness in that realization as you finally met Sam's wife on the floor and joined her in the music. Your body wasn't as fluid as it usually was when you danced, you felt stiff, but you couldn't help it. Especially not when another glance at Bucky dancing against another girl twisted your gut in ways you didn't know it could.

Tonight was going to be a long one.

~~~

Your feet ached in your heels as you quickly made for the exit. You needed air, you needed space, you needed to go home.

You'd been able to stomach watching Bucky dance without you for the first couple hours - barely - but you couldn't take being ignored anymore. You didn't want him to fuck you in the middle of the dance floor for everyone to see, Sam included, but you would've liked if he'd offered to dance with you like Sam and his wife did. To join the group even or, fuck, just look at you once in awhile. Maybe smile. Or wink.

Instead, he gave you a wide berth, didn't look at you once, and didn't seem interested when you excused yourself to the restroom twenty minutes ago. You hid in the stall, gathering yourself before exiting, glancing out at the group to see not one of them bothered by the long time you took, and decided it was time to go home.

Pushing open the main door, you blinked in surprise at the rain that was now pouring down, and you sighed, shutting the door and stepping as far away as you could without stepping out from under the awning. You called an uber to take you home and watched impatiently as the car icon turned down various streets to get to you. The driver wasn't far, and would only take a few minutes to arrive, and you were hoping it was enough time before someone came out looking for you.

But when the door next to you opened, and that familiar head of cropped brown hair peered around the edge, your heart sank. Your name fell from his lips in a confused tone as he took in the way your arms were wrapped around yourself and how you were basically hiding behind the door to stay out of the way.

"What are you doing out here?" He shut the door and stepped next to you, his elbow brushing yours. You grit your teeth at the frustration that was brewing in you, the urge to shout and yell. You weren't normally someone who lost their temper, but you were so tired. Tired of not being enough, of being alone.

"Waiting for my ride." You refused to look at him as he stared at the side of your face and you watched the road.

"You. . ." He hesitated, tilting his head and leaning a bit, trying to get you to look at him, "You're leaving already?"

"Yup." At the dismissive tone in your response, he straightened himself again, but still kept staring at your goddamn face. A sigh pushed past your nostrils as you glanced at the gps again, seeing the car was only two blocks down now. Thank god.

"Do you want me to come with you?" He asked, following you as you stepped out from the awning and into the downpour, your dress and hair almost immediately becoming soaked through. "Or you can come over to mine, if you'd like?"

"No, thanks." You declined, your voice beginning to strain, "I'm not in the mood to fuck you tonight."

He flinched as if you'd hit him, but recovered as he sidled up to you again, "W-well, I've got a bottle of wine, your favorite brand, in the fridge unopened. We could have a drink and watch a movie? Or cuddle, or just talk? Whatever you'd like."

You turned to him, surprisingly calm considering the way your chest seized and your eyes stung. His face fell as he took in the state of you, the misery lining your lashes and the anger pulling your lips thin. "Don't pretend like you actually care, James. Like whatever this is," you weakly gestured to the space between the two of you, "has ever been anything more than you wanting to fuck me," You turned back to the road, your voice dropping below a whisper, "and me letting you."

His jaw went slack as he stumbled for words.

A small car pulled up beside you, throwing its hazards on as the window rolled down. You leaned in, asking the driver for his name. The older man who was probably in his late sixties or early seventies introduced himself as Dominic, and after checking to make sure it matched your app, you pulled open the backseat door.

Bucky's hand shot out to where yours rested on the car door, gently, "Wait. That's it? You're not going to talk to me about this?"

You fought the tears in your eyes as you sniffed, turning your full attention to him. "There's nothing to talk about, James. I'm just stating how it is. I didn't ask you to come out with me just to ignore me all night, only for you to remember I exist when you want a good lay." The uber driver kept his gaze on the road, patiently waiting for you to get in, and pretended he wasn't hearing your entire conversation. You'd apologize to him once you were on your way.

"You know why I - "

"Because of Sam," You calmly cut him off, "I know. But that doesn't mean you get to pretend that I don't exist. You wouldn't even look at me." You pulled your hand out from under his, climbing into the car. He held the door open, refusing to close it. "Close the door, James."

"Can we please talk about this?" He begged, something you never heard him do - usually it was you begging him. You looked up at him, and you couldn't tell if your face was wet from the rain or the tears that could've fallen. It was probably both.

"What's there to talk about?" You asked, your voice raw, "There are boundaries we can't cross, James. And I'm tired of being alone." You took a breath to try and steady the shakiness out of your voice, "And I'm tired of waiting for you to notice me."

You leaned forward and grabbed the door handle, ignoring the way Bucky's face crumpled in disbelief. You tried to pull the door, but he held it firmly open.

"Please let go," You asked.

He shook his head, your name slipping from his lips like a prayer, "Please."

"Let go."

He let out a shuddered breath as he looked at his feet for a moment. You were going to say it again, when he nodded and looked up at you, sniffling.

"Okay," He muttered, "okay." His hand fell from the door, and you watched him through the window as you pulled it shut.

"Please go," You gently asked your driver, who gave you a pitiful look in the mirror before he nodded, putting the car in drive. You didn't look out the window again, but you knew Bucky was still there, standing in the rain, watching you pull away.

~~~

"Thanks, Dom," You gave the driver a small smile as you opened the car door. He hadn't asked about what he'd heard while waiting for you to get in the car, or about your tears. He asked if you were alright, if you needed him to stop anywhere and get you anything. You'd smiled, declining the offer, but it had warmed your heart.

"Of course," He turned to give you a sad smile. "If you need anything, I'll be driving all night, so I'll be around the area."

You smiled at him, "Thank you, but I'll be fine."

He nodded, before saying, "Hey."

You looked at him again, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm not trying to butt in on a situation I don't know," He started, "and you can ignore anything I say once you get out of this car. Just," He took a breath as if to steady himself, "Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth. So you don't sit there and wonder years later, if shutting them out was a mistake."

"I appreciate the advice, but," you sighed, "there's a lot of story there that I can't get into."

"And whatever you do, is your choice. Just. . ." He took a deep breath before his eyes locked with yours, and you could see the regret and the sadness swimming in his irises. "I was that person, once. And not a day goes by where I don't wonder what life would've been like had I just listened."

You smiled, reaching forward to pat his shoulder, "Don't let the past drag down your present," you offered him a sad smile, and he reached up to pat your fingers with his old ones, "Have a good night, Dom."

"You as well."

You climbed out of his car, walking to where the doorman of your building greeted you and held the door open for you. He eyed your soaked clothes and hair with concern and you waved him off.

"Got caught in the downpour. It's headed this way, but I'm alright." You plastered on a fake smile, as you passed him.

The elevator ride was suffocatingly silent, the only noise being the dings of the floors you passed and you spent the time removing your heels, your sore feet thankful to be flat again. The ding of your floor filled the air and the doors whirred as they slid open. You were greeted by that maroon carpet, and cream walls of the hall, the little gold detailings of the light fixtures and door handles plentiful as you passed them by, aiming for your door.

Your keys slid in and unlocked effortlessly, and you stepped into the darkness, shutting the door behind you and locking it before you slid down to the floor. Feet pushed out in front of you, your back to the door, you sat there in the quiet stillness of your apartment.

In the dark, Dominic's words kept ringing in your head. Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth.

You sighed as your head fell back and thumped against the door. Deep down, you knew the old man was right. You don't have to let Bucky back in, but you should hear him out. But you knew by the way your heart constricted at just the thought of it, that you weren't ready, not yet. You needed to cool down and think and relax before that conversation.

So you stood on shaky legs and flicked on a couple lights before making your way to the bathroom. A hot bath to wash away the night and chase away the cold that was starting to bite at your bones was the best way to start.

~~~

Nick, your doorman's voice echoed in your head as you stood at the buzzer of your door.

There's a James Barnes here to see you.

It'd been a couple weeks since you left him at that club downtown. Weeks of no contact, not even a text. You knew you needed to talk to him, but you didn't know if you were ready. You didn't even know what more could be said. What story he could try to spin you.

But you remembered Dom's words from that night, and shook yourself from your stupor just in time to hear Nick calling your name through the buzzer.

"Send him up." You hoarsely replied, "Thank you, Nick."

"Sure thing," His voice came through the static before going quiet again.

You took a deep breath as you looked around the apartment. It was a little messy - you hadn't really had time to clean these past few weeks with finals around the corner. Part of you wanted to rush to pick some of it up, but you knew deep down you didn't have time before Bucky knocked on your door, so you wrapped your arms around your torso and waited, trying to ignore all the awful ways your brain was coming up with for this conversation to end.

The knock on that door couldn't come soon enough, and you had to steel yourself before pulling it open.

Bucky honestly looked worse for wear, the bags under his eyes were prominent, his hair that was usually so well styled was unkept and in disarray. His normally well trimmed beard was longer than you'd ever seen it, though it wasn't by much. And in his hands, was a small bouquet of wildflowers.

"Can I come in?" He asked, his voice gentle and somewhat hesitant.

You stepped back from the door, silently holding it open for him to enter. He pressed his lips tightly together and quickly stepped in, watching as you shut and locked the door behind him.

"I know that these won't fix anything, but I remember you talking about the flower shop two blocks over and how you really enjoyed the wildflower bouquets so I thought I'd stop on my way here to get you one - " He was rambling now, staring at the flowers in his hand as his free one came up to gently stroke some of the petals.

You walked to the kitchen, with him blindly following you as he rambled on and on about the flowers and the specific bunch he grabbed reminded him of you and you had to push out the feelings that started to warm your chest down, down, down back into their steel box - the steel box you decided to lock them away in that night you left him at the club.

After grabbing a small vase from the cupboard, you held your hand out for the bouquet. Your fingers entered his field of view that was still locked on those petals and his rambling tumbled to a halt before he nodded to himself.

"Right, sorry," He gently handed them over to you and watched as you placed them in the vase and filled it with water. You'd worry about if you were really going to keep them later, and if you did, going through and properly arranging them. But right now, you had an important talk waiting to happen. And the sooner it was over, the better.

"What do you want, Bucky?" You asked, pushing the vase away from the edge of the counter and looking up at him.

"I was hoping we could talk."

"I have nothing more to say to you." You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned your hip against the counter, eyeing him as he stepped up to the other side, resting his hands against the fake marble.

"You don't have to say anything, but I have some stuff I'd like to say to you." His eyes were practically begging you to listen and Dom's words rang in your head again. Sometimes, it's worth listening to the other side. So you know the whole truth.

"Fine," You sighed, "out with it." You knew you were being a bit rude and cold. But after the past few weeks you've had, you didn't want him here longer than necessary.

"Right, um," He took a deep breath. He seemed so uncharacteristically nervous. Whenever you were with him, he was always so sure of himself. So confident and cocky. To see him rambling and fiddling with the flowers earlier, and now struggling to find his words - it put a pause in your frustration.

He straightened his back and took another breath, and you steeled yourself for what he was about to say.

"I want to apologize." He started, "For everything. For starting this with you, pursuing you when I knew I shouldn't have. For making a mess of it." His throat bobbed as he continued, "When I met you two years ago, there was just something about you. Something that lured me in. You were - are so smart. You're so fucking smart, and beautiful and funny and witty and I just - " He sighed, "God, I fell so hard for you.

"But your father is one of my friends. And that's not right. What kind of man does that make me?" He asked, gesturing to himself. "What kind of man does that?" He all but fell into one of the barstools at the counter, "So, I kept you at arms length. Only saw you in secret, pretended you weren't there if there was even the slightest chance of getting caught - and for that I am so, so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. But," he sighed, taking a moment before continuing, "but I didn't know you felt any certain way about it. About me."

He looked up from the counter to you, across the kitchen with your arms still crossed, "I didn't know you weren't okay with it. With the hiding and the secrets. If I had known - "

"What?" You weakly asked. You didn't mean to cut him off, you meant it when you said you didn't have anything left to say to him, but your mouth opened of its own accord. "What would you have done?"

He was silent and you shook your head, letting out a weak, sad laugh, "Exactly. You wouldn't have done anything, because you can't. Not with who we are." You swallowed down the lump that began to form in your throat, your next words coming out almost silently, "I don't just feel a certain way about it."

"What does that mean?" He asked, his brows knitting together.

"James," You sighed, "I've been in love with you for months now." His eyes widened as he watched you lean backwards against the other counter, "And what sucks, is that these past few weeks, all I've wanted to do was call my dad, or my mom, and get some advice on our situation," You felt the tears begin to build in the corners of your eyes. "But I can't ask them. And I can't talk to any of my friends about you because they know my parents."

You ignored the way his face crumbled as your voice cracked and thinned as you fought the building tears, "I can't talk to anyone about you. I'm alone in this. And even if I were to have you, I'd be alone."

He was silent for a minute, watching the tears fall down your cheeks before he slowly stood and walked around the counter to your side. He hesitantly approached you, gently reached up with his hands and brushed away the tears from your chin.

"What if you didn't have to be alone?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if," he breathed in, his eyes scanning every inch of your face as he caressed it with his thumbs, "what if you didn't have to be alone? What if we didn't hide?"

A weak scoff pushed past your lips and you tried to glare at him, but you could tell it wasn't really there, "You're assuming there's still a 'we'." Though your words were meant to throw him off, the lack of bite in your tone kept him right in front of you, the tight concern in his face melting way to something you'd only glanced in his eyes a handful of times - something soft.

"I would like there to be." He whispered and you felt that steel box inside yourself crack open.

"What?" It felt like it fell between you, your question, but he caught it with his nervous grin

"I'm in love with you," he stated with such gentle conviction, that steel box starting to spring open further and further the more he spoke, "and I know I've made a mess of things, but I would do anything to make it right." His hands slid off your cheeks and ran down the lengths of your arms, softly gripping your fingers and pulling them away from your chest and to his own. "I want to be with you. I want to show the world that I'm yours. I want to openly be yours."

That little steel box shoved deep down inside of yourself flung open. Everything you've bottled up the past few weeks came bubbling to the surface as you fought that wobble in your lips. You fought to keep it all in. To keep yourself composed.

"I want to make this right," He continued, his own eyes watering at the state you were in, "You just need to tell me how." He sighed, "Or tell me to fuck off, and I will. You'll never hear from me again if that's what you want. And honestly, I wouldn't be offended if you did."

The thought of never seeing him again didn't sit right with you. It made a horrible sense of dread fill your chest and you shook your head.

"What about my father?" You asked, your voice straining against the words that were trying to get out. Against the confession that sat at the tip of your tongue.

"We'll tell him. We'll find a way to tell him and it'll be okay," He gently pulled you, testing to see how you reacted and when you easily stepped towards him, he wrapped his arms around you, holding the back of your head with his hand, "We'll figure it out."

The warmth from his chest seeped through his shirt into your cheek and you let it out then, the cries that you'd been holding in, the words you'd come to terms with days ago that you never thought would be voiced, the words you'd wanted to say to him in anger began clumsily tumbling from your lips.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Your lips scraped against the cotton of his shirt, "You can't expect me to tell you how I feel when you made it feel wrong to want more." You pulled back, weakly pushing against his chest before haphazardly wiping your eyes.

You'd missed everything about him the past few weeks, no matter how much you tried not to. His warmth, his scent, the feel of his hands, the husk of his voice. God you missed it. And you wouldn't have had to miss him at all had the two of you just told each other.

"The way you'd avoid me or act as if I wasn't there," You said, taking a step out of his arms, "How do I know that won't happen again?"

His face fell as he looked at you, his hands dropping to his sides, "You don't, but I can promise you that it never did." He let out a sad chuckle at the confusion taking over the tears in your eyes. "I may have avoided getting too close to you, yes, but not once did I not notice you."

He stepped forward, wrapping his hands around your waist to settle on your lower back, his fingers tracing invisible patterns into your shirt.

"If we're in the same room, I always know exactly where you are," His eyes darted down to your lips for a split second, "When you leave the room, all I want to do is follow you, but I can't. So I strain to hear your voice and laugh over everything else. I practically hold my breath until you come back." He gave you a sad smile, "I know you probably don't believe me, but it's true. It's like my entire being orbits around you and when you aren't around, my soul doesn't know where to spin."

You didn't know what to say as you watched him, noted the sincerity in his gaze - the tears beginning to line his own lashes. You weighed everything he'd told you, how he felt, how he was trying so hard to not lose you. All because you finally put your foot down, and then listened.

You weren't sure if your brain could form the words you wanted to say - needed to say. Your heart was racing from his confession and the proximity of him. He was so close to you, you'd merely have to tip your chin up the slightest to catch his lips with your own.

So you did.

His body instantly reacted - his grip tightening across your back and pulling you as close as he could, his lips moving in tandem with yours in the soft enticing way they always did, a sigh leaving his nose and tickling your cheek.

The feeling of his lips on yours sent a warmth through your chest that you hadn't felt in weeks, and it quickly spread through the rest of you, tingles shooting out to your fingers as they reached for his chin and down to your toes as your feet backed you up into the counter. A small noise that sounded almost like a whimper escaped his throat, swallowed by your mouth on his, as your hands slid up from his chin into his hair, your fingers threading through the strands and gripping them.

You knew there was more to talk about, more to figure out - there always would be - but right now you couldn't stop thinking about his lips on yours, his tongue gently asking for permission to play with yours as his hands slid from your back down to your ass, squeezing before sliding further to your thighs, his back bowing as he reached. His fingers pulled on your legs twice and in the spare second his lips were able to pull from yours, you felt him whisper to jump, so you did.

He caught you, gently placing you on the counter as he stepped in between your legs, pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips left yours and moved to your neck, softly nipping and sucking as he moved down to your chest, pulling your shirt, stretching the neck of it but at the moment you couldn't care less about it. He only pulled away to pull the clothing up over your head and out of the way, his mouth immediately going down to close around a nipple when he noticed the lack of bra in his path.

A low groan rumbled through his throat and into your skin before he moved to the other one, giving it the same treatment as the first. Every little touch of his hands, the way they grazed over your skin or grabbed at your free breast, kneading it with his fingers, and the hot trail his tongue left across your skin turned your core molten. You needed him, you didn't want any of the teasing and edging he so loved to torture you with.

So you tugged on his hair, his name falling from your lips in a whine and he looked up at you, his eyes glazed and his pupils blown. The look made you hesitate and you clenched around nothing - you'd only seen him that far gone in the feeling of your skin one other time. So, seeing it now, you knew you could ask him to do anything, and he'd do it. You could order him, and he'd obey.

You pulled his face up to yours, making him stand up straight as you locked your lips with his again and slid your hands down to his belt. While you worked the buckle open, his hands wrapped under the shorts on your hips, pulling them down your legs and causing you to gasp at the cold counter meeting your skin.

The buckle finally opened and your fingers immediately moved to the button and zipper of his jeans, his own moving to brush against the wetness there. Your lips swallowed the new whine that he let out as he gathered the slick, pushing two fingers all the way in.

Your lips broke from his at the feeling of his long fingers pumping in and out of you and your fingers stumbled over the denim, but finally you got the button open and the zipper down and you shoved at his pants, your lips moving to his ear.

"C'mon, handsome," You whispered, letting your lips brush against the shell of his ear and grinning at the shiver that ran through his body, "Your fingers feel nice, but," Your hand reached past the waist, gripping and stroking him, his lips opening in a gasp and latching on to your neck again, "this is what I want."

He groaned into your neck, thrusting into your hand, his fingers in your cunt stroking your walls, matching pace.

"I need it, James," Your other hand pulled back to grip his hair, pulling on it to get him to look at you as you continued stroking him. When he pulled away from your neck, he already looked fucked out and you smiled, leaning forward to lick his lips. He tried to chase your lips with his own but when your hand didn't let go of his hair, he stopped. "I need you to fuck me, James," He groaned at that, "Can you do that for me?"

He nodded, his voice thin as he responded, "Yes."

"Good," You smiled at him, trying not to whine at the loss of his fingers as he pulled them out and pushed his boxers down just enough. His left hand settled on your waist as his other lined himself up with your entrance, gathering some slick before he pushed himself in, going all the way in one go.

His head fell into your neck as he groaned, the sound of it combined with the sudden fullness pulling a moan from your lips.

"Oh, fuck," Your lips brushed his ear as you panted. "That's it - fuck -" Your hands come up to grip his shoulders and his back as he immediately set a growing pace. "That's a good boy."

His lips again connected with your neck and you tipped your head to give him more access, his teeth dragging across your skin. His hips sped up, a loud moan breaking from you as he angled to hit that perfect spot, Your head falling back into the cabinets.

"That's it that's it," You panted, "Oh, don't you dare stop." His teeth nipped just below your ear and you couldn't stop the grin that grew on your lips, "Mark me," You grunted, "I want everyone to know I'm yours."

What you could only describe as a growl rumbled from his lips into your skin as he began working to leave a mark on that exact spot, the sensation flying through every one of your nerves, shooting down to where he was hitting that perfect spot over and over, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to falling over that edge, faster than he'd ever let you before.

His lips brushed the skin of your neck as he grunted out, "Please cum on me," His voice was breathless and he sounded so, so close to begging, "please."

You let out a breathy sound, that band in you so close to snapping as you lifted your legs to wrap around his hips. Your fingers wound through his hair again, gripping the strands as you ordered him, your lips never leaving his ear, "Make me."

"I will," He said between leaving marks across your neck and shoulder, "I promise I will."

His hips never faltered as his thumb on his right hand came to press quick circles into your clit, your legs snapping around him at the sensation and your head again hitting the cabinets.

"Shit, that's it," Your fingers gripped any part of him you could reach, scratching your nails down his skin and the shirt still covering his back. The band in your core snapped and your release washed over you, your body locking around his as you were sure you screamed into his shoulder.

His hips didn't stop, still fucking into you at that brutal pace he'd set, his thumb still circling your clit and you could feel another orgasm quickly approaching.

He grunted out, his only request this whole time, "One more," before his voice softened into a whine, "please give me one, pleasepleaseplease."

You didn't fight the second wave as it crashed into you, stealing your breath. His hips thrust into you just a couple more times before he stilled and his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise, his long moan vibrating into the skin of your neck as he buried his face again.

His legs shook as he stood there with you wrapped so tightly around him, but it was like he didn't dare move from your hold, or let you escape his. And you were fine with that.

Once you got your breath back, you slowly dragged your fingers over his back and shoulders, threading through his hair before going back down his neck, his muscles loosening with each pass.

His arms wrapped around your waist in a tight hug as he finally broke the silence, "Can there still be a 'we'?" His voice was so quiet, like he was scared to ask. You pulled his face away from your neck finally. "Are you going to ask me out? Like a real date?" You grinned at the flush on his cheeks.

"Can I take you on a proper date?"

You couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled up in your chest and you nodded, "Absolutely."

There was a feeling in your chest telling you to think about it more before agreeing, but you ignored it. You knew the risks, and you knew there was more to figure out and more to learn before it would be a smooth road - and that didn't even include telling your parents.

But that was a problem for another day. Right now, you just wanted to stay wrapped around Bucky in every sense and enjoy the warmth that filled your chest as he looked at you like you hung the sky just for him.

Yeah, you'd fix the rest of it later.

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intuitive-revelations · 1 year ago

Text

FLUXES [Celestis: Engineered Participants / Technologies] Example: "DOCTOR, The"

[Image description, courtesy of @quailfence: a series of pictures of text, alternated with screencaps and gifs from Doctor Who.

1: Text: Fluxes: [Celestis: Engineered Participants/Technology] Individuals transposed backwards in time but not too far in space, using a very high chaotic limiter setting and tied to their home period by a thread of biodata

2: The Eleventh Doctor stands in the future corpse of his TARDIS, looking and a pulsing stream of light that has replaced the console. He says, "That is the scar tissue of my journey through the universe. My path through time and space."

3: Text: He raised a finger. 'Look. There.

Now she could just make out the thread in the moonlight. It was just a faint reflection, maybe a foot or two long, about a metre off the ground. A taut strand of spiderweb hanging in the air, not attached to anything.

'What is it?' Fitz asked.

'It's only partially rotated into three dimensions,' he said. He pushed his finger right through the glimmering line, without affecting it. 'That's why it looks one- or two-dimensional. The rest is still perpendicular to what we can see - woven into higher space, or the time vortex…'

'Yes,' said Fitz, 'but what is it?' 'It's what your friend mistook for a ley line.' The Doctor was scuttling around the silver thread, peering at it from every angle, getting more and more agitated. 'It's part of the fabric of space-time itself. What DNA is to your genetic code, this stuff is to biodata. And it's all just exposed here now. Personality, history, memory, perception, all vulnerable…'

'I'm going to have to ask you again, aren't I?' said Fitz.

The Doctor said, 'It's me.'

4: The Fourteenth and Fifteenth doctors in the TARDIS. 14: "But you're fine?" 15: "I'm fine, because you fixed yourself. We're Time Lords, we're doing rehab out of order."

5: Text: The subject is turned loose in his or her own history, and the limiter setting allows tiny actions taken by the future version to have considerable effects on the past version. The biodata link then transfers these changes to the future version, which alters it, and thus alters the changes made to the past version. Therefore, the individual's history is kept constantly in flux.

6: The Fugitive Doctor says, "Let me take it from the top: Hello, I'm the Doctor."

7: Text: Let me finish. Think back to that time when you went to see your previous selves.

8: Ten, Eleven, and War talk to each other. Ten: "You're not actually suggesting that we change our own personal history?" Eleven: "We change history all the time. I'm suggesting far worse."

9: Text: 'Maybe there's no one home on Gallifrey,' said the boy softly. There was just the one of him.

The Doctor looked at him, cupping the small white cube in his hands. The boy said, Maybe they all left. Or maybe the whole planet's being destroyed, and undestroyed, and destroyed, and you just caught them at the wrong moment.

10: The TARDIS by the ruins of Gallifrey

11: Text: 'It's impossible,' said the Doctor. 'It's impossible for my people. Our past is unreachable. What's written can't be unwritten.'

'Who said your history can't change?'

Another boy answered, 'Someone from his history.'

And another: 'Maybe it's the second-biggest lie in Time Lord history.'

12: Dhawan!Master tells Thirteen, "You are the Timeless Child."

13: Thitreen stares at a ruined house. Swarm whispers in her ear and tells her, "All the memories you've lost, all the people you've been. It's all in there, contained within that house."

14: Text: And it was like the Doctor's home. As if his ship understood the loss of the House and had compensated to fill the emptiness. Shadowy corridors, alcoves and stairways, a secret at every turn. Like being in the Doctor's head. Like his life, for that matter, the details of which were strewn like flotsam across the floor.

15: Text: 'Sweet,' said the little boy. 'That's my favourite of your origin stories, too.'

The Doctor opened his eyes. He had been laughing, he realised, he felt that lightness in himself. The boys had all moved away, behind him, leaving him facing the empty dark of the warehouse.

'What do you mean?' he asked. His voice sounded very small.

'Is this the version where they banned all mention of his name, and yours, for consorting with aliens? Or the one where he got every record of himself deleted from the files?'

'Feel free to believe either of them,' snapped the Doctor, 'or both of them, or neither of them. If you're curious about my past, I want there to be as many wrong answers as possible.'

16: The Eighth Doctor tells someone, "I'm half human. On my mother's side."

17: Text: 'Well he's a hybrid, you know that. A Gallifreyan not born of Gallifreyan, the one who unites the two races and brings good old human niceness into their alien society. Aliens need that, y'know.'

'A human hybrid? She saw the contempt in his curling lip. 'Pseudoscientific nonsense. There's no evidence,' he repeated.

'He's allowed to be different. He's got a prophecy and everything.'

18: Lady Me says, "By your own reasoning, why couldn't the Hybrid be half Time Lord, half human?"

19: Text: Someone giggled. 'Let's play pin the tale on the donkey.'

'Maybe you didn't use to have a father.'

'Maybe you're living in the middle of a time war. Maybe there's an Enemy out there -'

The Doctor shouted, 'I'm not listening!'

'- who's rewriting you when you're not looking!'

'Maybe you weren't always half human.'

'But now you've become always half human.' 'Maybe you weren't always a Time Lord.'

But now you've always been a Time Lord.'

'Maybe you originally came from some planet in the forty-ninth century. Fleeing from the Enemy who'd overrun your home -'

'I said I'm not listening! Laa laa laa laa laa -'

'- and you've just been written and rewritten and overwritten, ever since.'

'Pin the tale!'

'How d'you know it's not true?'

'How could you know it's not true?'

The voices crowded in. 'How would you know, huh?'

'How would you know?'

'How would 'How would you 'How 'How would you know? you know? you know? know?'

'Why would I care?' shouted the Doctor.

The boy fell silent.

20: Lady Me asks, "Am I right? Is it true?" Twelve replies, "Does it matter?"

21: Text: However, the one group from the Homeworld which has excelled at flux-engineering is the Celestis.

22: Two asks the Time Lords, "Now then… what about me?"

23: Tecteun tells Thirteen, "Which is ehy we engineered the Fluyx: Shut the universe down and you within it."

24: Text: Even Mictlan itself can be considered a kind of enormous flux, an endlessly-shifting realm so cortosive to the rest of history that its heartland has to be kept on the outer skin of the universe

24: The Fourteenth Doctor tells Donna, "I invoked a supersition, at the edge of the universe, where the walls are thin and everything is possible."

25: The space station from Wild Blue Yonder

26: Text: There are suggestions of a stable middle-ground between the two fates, in which the physical matter of the flux is lost but the meaning of the subject/ victim is retained, a series of memetic connections with no flesh to support it. Yet this entity exists only on a purely theoretical level, relying on the perceptions of others to survive at all.

27: The Twelfth Doctor walks up to the TARDIS console. He says, "Can't wait to hear what I say." Glancing at the viewer, he adds, "I'm noting without an audience."

28: Text: You know what Sam represents. If a tree falls in a forest and no one's there to hear it, does it make a sound? Stop me if I'm getting too abstract here, but if a Time Lord saves the world and nobody witnesses him doing it, does history care? She's your witness. The thing you need to make you whole.

29: The First Doctor looks at the viewer and says, "Incidentally, a Happy Christmas to all of you at home!" End description.]

[Plain text: Fluxes [Celestis: Engineered Participants / Technologies] Example: "Doctor, The". End plain text.]

@dw-described

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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year ago

Text

Everything But the Skirt (NSFW)

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

Synopsis: Jack doesn't like your choice of attire and an argument ensues. Eventually he gives in, but in the back of your mind you knew that you weren't getting off easy.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist 1

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist 2

Requested by: an amazing anon

Do not engage if you are underage

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You were walking past Jack who was on the phone with Clay when he did a double take and his eyes suddenly went wide.

"Clay, let me call you back. Uh babe?"

"Yes?" You said in response as you went to stand in front of him before leaning down to kiss him.

"Are you… actually going to wear that outside this house? Because uh…?

"Wear what smush?"

"That skirt." He pointed to it and you looked down at it to try and understand what he meant by it but you didn't.

"What's wrong with it?" You asked before looking back up at him confused.

"Your ass is almost out, that's what's wrong with it."

"I wear things like this all the time so what's the difference?"

"The difference is that I'm usually with you and it's usually never that short. Oh, and you're usually here…. At home."

"It's not even that short. I like it and want to wear it."

"I like it too but I also don't want anyone to try and take advantage of you. You know how people are."

"Babe, you're making a big deal out of nothing. I have a big ass ring on my finger." You mumbled as you started to get upset.

"If it was nothing then I wouldn't have said anything and like they give a fuck if you have a ring or not. Go change it." Jack responded to you without missing a beat and all you did was roll your eyes.

"This goes with my outfit and I'm not changing it because I'm supposed to be leaving in ten minutes. I'm not going and looking for something completely different."

"Roll your eyes like that at me again and I guarantee you that they'll get stuck like that. I don't want you leaving this house in that."

"Then come with me."

"You know I have something to do already and besides even if I was going with you, you wouldn't be wearing that."

"Why are you being so difficult about this?"

"So now I'm being difficult because I want my wife’s ass covered when she leaves this house? Make it make sense. In the time that you've been down here arguing with me, it could have already been changed."

"I'm not changing anything. As long as I'm comfortable and I am okay with it, why should anything else matter?"

"Oh, so now my opinion doesn't matter?" Jack responded while getting defensive.

"I never said that, Jackman."

"In not so many words you did. You're getting upset because I want to look out for you. Did I get that right?"

"No, I'm getting upset because there is absolutely nothing wrong with it."

"If it's not that short, bend down in it."

With a huff that you let out, you simply got into a low squat position before coming back up.

"That's not what I asked you to do."

"It's the same exact thing!"

"No it's not. I said "bend down, not squat down." You then bent down and you felt the material from the skirt rise up a few centimeters and that was it.

"And I see your thong. Take it off."

"I'm not taking anything off and I'm leaving."

All Jack did was laugh to himself and shake his head.

"Hmm, okay then."

You had suddenly become nervous once you heard him laugh since he didn't put up any more of a fight.

"Wait, what?" You asked while looking at him.

Jack simply shrugged.

"You're grown, go ahead." Jack said as he started to scroll through his phone. That's when you knew that he was pissed.

"Why all of a sudden are you not saying anything about it?"

"You already made up your mind, didn't you?" He asked while looking up at you.

"Yes, but…"

"Then go. I'll see you when you get back. Don't want you to be late." Jack said as he stood up and leaned down to kiss you.

"Have fun."

The entire time that you were out you felt uneasy because of how you had left things with Jack. I mean you were grown and you could wear what you wanted, so you still didn't understand the big deal behind it. You had your friends with you and you knew for a fact that they would protect you if they needed to but all in all you were dreading going back home.

It was around three in the morning when you entered the house and it was silent meaning that Jack was probably already asleep. You turned on the light to walk up the steps to peek over and see that he was sitting in the living room just staring at you.

"What the? Why are you being weird?" You asked as you tried to start making your way up the steps but instead Jack called you over.

"Come here for a second."

"What babe, I'm tired." You said as you still had your foot on the step.

"Just come here."

You walked into the living room and threw your phone and keys on the opposite couch before walking over to Jack.

"Yes?" Was all you said before Jack gestured for you to sit on his lap.

"Did you have fun?"

"I did."

"Hmm."

"Smush, what is your deal? If you need to say something just say it."

Jack didn't respond to you but instead reached up your skirt to play with the waistband of your thong while not breaking eye contact with you. Now your heart was pounding.

"Babe…."

All he did was take your arm and place a small kiss on the inside of your wrist.

"Why is your heart beating so fast, princess?"

"I…."

"You nervous?"

"What? No."

"You sure about that?" Jack asked you again before placing kisses all along your neck to the skin that was exposed.

"Yes, I'm not nervous."

"I don't like when you lie to me."

All you then heard was the material from your thong rip as Jack pulled it.

"Babe!"

"What?"

"That was one of my favorite ones!"

"I'll buy you more." He responded by shrugging and throwing it to the side before holding up his fingers to your mouth. You immediately opened it and began sucking on them and when Jack was satisfied he took them out and quickly inserted them in you.

"You like disobeying me, don't you?" Jack asked you as he was moving his fingers in and out of you at a painfully slow pace.

"What? No. I just…"

"No, you do like disobeying me simply because you know what's going to come later when you least expect it."

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"And that's your problem. You never think that you do." Jack said while eyeing you and you couldn't help but to roll your eyes. You didn't think he noticed, but he stopped his movements abruptly and told you to stand back up.

"Take off everything but the skirt since you still want to be a fucking smart ass."

"I..what?"

"You've been asking a lot of questions tonight. Do I have you flustered mamas? Do what I said and do it now."

You got up from his lap and slowly took off your top before taking off your bra and throwing it to the side and starting to play with your pierced nipples.

"Did I tell you to do that?" Jack asked and you immediately halted your movements and looked at him confused.

"I asked you a question so be a good girl and answer it."

"No."

"I didn't think so."

You peered down to see the obvious tent in Jack’s shorts, but as you got closer he pushed your hand away.

"Don't you want me to take care of that for you?" You asked and he simply shook his head no.

"We'll get there eventually, but for now come back up here."

All you could think in the back of your mind was how sore you were going to be later on in the day after you woke up.

Once you sat back in his lap, he wasted no time with placing your left nipple in his mouth and biting down lightly, making you gasp out in pleasure as he rolled the right one with his fingers before switching to give each one the same treatment.

Once he had detached himself from you, he started to place small kisses all over your chest with leaving bites every so often as the wetness between your thighs continued to increase.

"Babe, hurry up." You whispered as you threw your head back in pleasure as Jack had inserted his fingers in you once more.

All he did was laugh before saying anything to you.

"Be careful what you wish for." He softly whispered in your ear before kissing the shell of it and increased the pace of his fingers.

He tightly held onto your hip so that you would stay in place and not move as he slowly began massaging your clit.

"Baby, I'm about to…."

"Then do it." Was all Jack said before you came all over his fingers.

He didn't even give you a chance to recover before he stood up and told you to get on all fours on the couch.

Jack then got behind you before sliding down his shorts and boxer briefs before slowly stroking himself as the precum was leaking from the tip and you heard him hiss.

"Babe?"

"Good girls are patient, but you showed me earlier tonight that you’re not one. I already let you cum once."

You didn't say anything in response as Jack slowly entered you bottoming out and throwing his head back in pleasure. He gave you a few seconds to get yourself together before slowly moving in and out of you a few times.

Then without warning, he increased his pace as he held tightly onto both of your hips so it would decrease your chances of moving away from him.

"Shiiiit." You said as you could feel one of your hands slipping from holding you up because of the increase in pace.

"So you like getting attention from other men who aren't me, huh?" Jack asked you and you struggled to speak because of how much pleasure you were in.

When you didn't respond to it, he slid out of you before you felt a hard smack to your ass making you jump as he asked you again.

"I thought I asked you a question? You know it's rude to not answer your husband when he's speaking to you."

"No I don't."

"You sure about that? Because you still walked out the fucking house with that skirt on."

"But…"

"But what, princess?" Jack asked as he slid back into you.

"Oohh oh fuck."

"Last time I checked you were married because I'm the one who put that damn ring on your finger, isn't that right?"

"Yes!"

Without warning Jack flipped you over so that you were laying on your back and put his hand around your neck and lightly squeezed as he continued to thrust into you.

By this time, your eyes were rolling in the back of your head because of how much pleasure you were in and Jack wasn't showing you any type of mercy.

You could tell he was getting close because of his thrusts becoming sloppy and his grip on your neck was loosening.

You could feel yourself about to hit your peak before Jack slid out of you and placed your legs on his shoulders as his tongue started to work on your folds making you throw your head back in pleasure.

"Babeeee oh fuck." You gasped out and Jack noticed you slowly moving away from him as he was quick to pull you back and start to suck on your clit and wasn't letting up.

"Shiiit baby, I can't take it." You yelled out, but all Jack did was keep eye contact with you as he sucked harder making you scream out.

"JACKKKKK!"

You then let out a string of curse words as you squirted all over his face and the only thing he did was keep sucking on it as he then inserted three of his fingers.

"Babyyyyyy." You pleaded with him, but he wasn't letting up. Then you had a realization that this was what he was talking about earlier when he told you 'be careful what you wish for.'

"Nah, you acting like you available to every fucking man in Atlanta. Whose pussy is this?"

"Yours!"

"Is it? Because you seemed to have forgotten that tonight."

You couldn't even answer him as you once again squirted all over his fingers. He simply picked you up as he sat down on the couch and put his hands behind his head.

"You know what you're supposed to do so get to it. Make me cum. And no we not taking any breaks. You had all that mouth earlier so we're going to put it to good use."

You tried to give yourself a few seconds to recover, but Jack wasn't having it as he pushed his hips up into you making you let out a loud moan.

To give yourself leverage, you placed your hands on his shoulders as you got into a comfortable rhythm. As your head rested against your hand that was on his shoulder, you heard him softly moaning in your ear and that was enough for you to increase your pace.

His hands went back to your hips as he began to help guide you since he could tell that you were starting to get tired.

"Fuck, baby I'm almost there."

All it took was another minute before you felt him twitch inside of you before the warm sticky liquid was all over you.

"Get on your knees."

You lifted yourself off of Jack before doing what you were told as you settled in between his legs in front of him and you began to lick off the cum wherever it had landed before taking him in your mouth.

He made a makeshift ponytail of your hair in order to get it out of the way. As you used your right hand to help you where your mouth couldn't reach.

You went slowly at first and tried to give him enough time to recover, but you thought about how he showed you no mercy so he wasn't about to get any either.

As you increased your pace, the hold on your hair got tighter and without warning, Jack lightly pushed you away from him before standing up and stroking himself.

"You want me to cum all over that pretty little face?"

You eagerly nodded as you closed your eyes and within seconds felt it all over your face and chest.

Without him having to tell you to do it, you took your finger and began to run it all along your face before putting it in your mouth to suck it off. Once he was satisfied with how much you had gotten off, he laid down on the couch and picked you up off the floor to place you on top of him before reaching up to kiss you as you eagerly kissed him back as he began to play with the fabric of your skirt.

"I should have known this was going to happen when you actually let me leave." You muttered while he just looked at you.

"And I know someone tried to be a smart ass and talk to you even though you have a ring on your finger. Am I right?"

"Well yes, but…"

"I just want certain things to be for my eyes only. That's all."

"That's fair."

"Besides I distinctly remember getting yelled out when I wore gray sweatpants and you told me that I better not leave the house like that."

"Because your dick is fucking huge. That's why."

"And your ass isn't?" Jack asked as he was palming it and all you could do was laugh.

"Touché."

"I still don't like how short this is."

"I think I learned my lesson."

"Uh? Who said that I was done teaching it?" Jack asked you but before you could respond, he grabbed a hold of the side of the skirt where the small slit was and ripped it in half making you gasp.

"Now it won't be a problem anymore."

"You cannot… you cannot be fucking serious."

"You're already on thin ice so don't test me."

"I didn't cut up your sweatpants did I?"

"I changed before I left the house so you had no reason to."

"You owe me a new thong and skirt."

"I have to see it and approve it first before you buy it."

"Fine." You responded by shrugging.

But little did he know, you had the same exact skirt in three different colors and was going to wear another one tomorrow.

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#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow angst #jack harlow smut #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow concept #jack harlow fanfiction #first lady of pg

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whumblr · 8 months ago

Text

Eat your words

Crossed out - Continued from ch.4 - Prologue

Lucas dragged himself up the metal stairs to his cell, both mentally and physically spent. Sure, he was used to making long days, long hours. But those hours were mostly spend stuck to a desk, morning to night in an ergonomic chair, with tasty takeout and a sense of accomplishment when he went home. Now he was stuck in hell, and deskwork was replaced with manual labour for ten straight hours that left his body stiff and sore even after the first day.

All he wanted to do was fall onto his cot and sleep until that goddamn buzzer announced the start of a new awful day.

But unfortunately, it seemed he couldn’t just yet. His stomach plummeted when he reached the top and saw Nero standing right outside his cell, waiting for him. If only he had a cellmate, he could fool himself for a few seconds that Nero wasn’t there for him…

He nearly halted right in his step, but the stubborn part of his brain made him carry on as if nothing was wrong and he kept walking, albeit a little tense. The anxiety in his brain at the same time replayed the scene from yesterday at his first breakfast, where he had taunted Nero about expecting compliance from him.

“Don’t go thinking you’ve won that battle now, son.” One of the other men at the table had muttered to him when Nero had simply walked off and Lucas remained scot-free. He hadn’t put much thought into that. But he was pretty sure the other half of that war was going to be fought out right here. Right now.

“Good evening, warden Mathison,” he tried, upholding some sense of politeness to outright avoid a drawing of weapons yet still refusing to call him ‘sir’.

Nero merely nodded in response. “Settling in alright, Varga?”

“You know what they say about the first day at a new job. It’s exhausting. So if you don’t mind…” Lucas pointed vaguely at his bed and took a step forward.

An arm shot out, hand slamming into the metal doorframe that rattled with the force, blocking the entrance.

“You haven’t made your bed,” Nero observed.

Lucas followed his gaze. The blanket was shoved to the side, all crumpled up. Ready to dive in only to have that flat mattress make the pain in his back even worse.

“I was a little preoccupied getting used to the new morning schedule.”

Nero smiled. His eyes snapped from the bed back to Lucas. “Do it now,” he said, and removed his arm.

“I’m literally turning in the second you walk awa—”

Nero didn’t even say anything, just stared him down and Lucas instantly fell silent.

He hesitated for a moment, but then stepped forward, through the small door, right past Nero. He expected… something. A shove in the back, blocking the exit and caging him in to this box of a room. But nothing happened and he safely reached the bed. He pulled the sheets taut and threw up the blanket, smoothing it out over the mattress. He didn’t think Nero would expect anything less than military precision, so he lifted the thin, plastic-y mattress and tucked the sheets and blanket neatly under. So he could rip it back off in a few minutes.

As he worked, he could feel Nero’s gaze lasering into his back. The man casually leant against the door opening, arms crossed.

“Consider this a warning,” he said. “I’ve sent people to solitary for less.”

Lucas bit back a ‘yeah, yeah’ and opted to continue working in silence, smoothing out all the wrinkles and placing his pillow neatly on top. He stood straight, next to the bed, eyes fierce on Nero’s as if daring him to find something to criticize. Nero tilted his head in an ‘acceptable’ and gestured up with his fingers, beckoning Lucas back out of the cell.

“These hours, after dinner,” he said, “you are free to spend however you want. Seeing as you don’t know the rules yet, not to mention there’s paperwork for you to go over, you’ll spend these hours in my office. Every day. After dinner.”

Lucas soured. “For how long?”

“Until you get it.”

“Get what?”

“The basic rules and basic manners expected of you here. Or until you sign. Up to you. I’ll expect you tomorrow at seven pm first.”

So much for his plans to just sleep early and escape reality every night. “Right,” Lucas merely said.

Wrong answer.

“Varga…” the man almost tutted, a fake disappointment in his tone and he stepped closer. “You’re a lawyer,” he continued like a patient teacher coaching a stubborn student. “I know this isn’t the first time you’ve heard or uttered the word ‘sir’. If it makes things easier, you can think of me as the judge. Your judge.”

“Is that what you fancy yourself to be here?”

“Here?” Nero laughed, inched closer standing directly in front of him and whispered: “Here, I am so much more.”

Before Lucas could even brace himself, a hand shot out and slammed into his throat. The enormous force threw him against the bars of the cell. His body crashing against the metal echoed through the room, the only thing even resembling a cry for help as all his air was cut off.

Some men on the other side of the room startled from the loud noise. They glanced over, but as soon as they saw what was going on, they quickly averted their eyes again, literally turning their back on Lucas. They continued their hushed conversation, ignoring him. Leaving him helpless and choking.

“What was it you said?” Nero spoke calmly, drawing closer. “Don’t hold your breath on it?”

The metal bars pressed against his back like they were trying to work right under his shoulder blades. Hands clawed up, trying to pull at the fingers digging tighter around his throat. Absolutely useless. Like trying to pry the bars of his cell apart. Lucas gurgled a sound of surrender, a sound that turned to a high-pitched yelp of surprise in his throat as his feet came off the ground.

Eyes widened, brain in full denial as Nero just fucking lifted him right off the floor with one hand. Slowly, sliding him up against the metal as if he weighed nothing, until they were at eye height.

There was no emotion in those grey eyes. No urgency. Just a silent expectation.

Whereas Lucas’ eyes contained every emotion he had. They all mingled into a wild panic. He couldn’t breathe. Could only struggle and flail against the vice grip around his throat, against the perplexity of this situation. He pulled at Nero’s arm, lightly kicked his feet but didn’t dare to but any weight behind it.

He tried to nod, shake his head, anything to show that, yeah! Okay! He got it!

And all of a sudden the bruising force on his throat released and he dropped back to the floor like a ragdoll.

He heaved in a breath, coughed it out again as too much air filled his lungs. He clutched a hand to his chest, forcing himself to calm down, forcing a measure of control back to his body. Trembling all over, he rolled to his knees trying not to double over.

“Have I made myself clear?” The cold voice above him broke through his daze.

Lucas panted hard, hand now cradling his bruised throat, the other on one of the bars as he tried to pull himself back up into a somewhat more dignified position than hunched over Nero’s boots. He fought the urge to wheeze out a ‘crystal’, but looked up and merely whispered, “Yes sir”.

Nero nodded and turned away from him. “Tomorrow. Seven pm.”

Continued here

Tag list: @gala1981 @chaotic-orphan @lolrpop

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#whump #prison whump #whump writing #intimidation #slammed into a wall #strangulation #stoic whumper #defiant whumpee #they're still in their storming phase :))#crossed out #my writing

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zmediaoutlet · 3 months ago

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spn20rewatch, 1.06: "So you lie to them."

A lot is made of the way that the Winchester boys grew up isolated. Raised to be soldiers, moved from town to town. That should lead to a particular kind of raw-edged unsocialized set of feral outsiders -- but Sam and Dean are thoroughly not that. A large part of why, I think, is that they were always enrolled in school (until Dean aged out). They actually had lots of opportunity to engage with normal people, even if the relationships they formed weren't necessarily deep. To borrow from Fight Club, they had plenty of 'single serving friends' -- good for a short time, but not for a long time. This practice is how they're both so good with people -- they don't come off as all that strange in normal interactions when they're not working, because they're just... not that strange, at least on the surface. They're good with people. They're just not good long-term.

When Sam goes to college, part of the stated goal is for there to be a normal life -- or a life at all, because he doesn't seem to include the rambling hunting existence as a valid option. A big part of that normalcy included finding a girlfriend and making friends. Makes sense, especially since he must have passed through dozens of schools with pre-established friend groups that he could see he'd never really be part of. After a while he'd know there was no point in trying to integrate, if they were only going to be in that school for a few months. Stanford gave him the opportunity to put down some roots, to really engage, and it seems from what little we see that he made a good effort. ...But.

DEAN: You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies? SAM: Why not? DEAN: Well, what exactly do you tell them? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doing? SAM: I tell them I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell them I needed some time off after Jess. DEAN: Oh, so you lie to them. SAM: No. I just don’t tell them… everything. DEAN: Yeah, that’s called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, telling the truth is far worse. SAM: So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life? (DEAN shrugs.) You’re serious? DEAN: Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period. SAM: You’re kind of anti-social, you know that? [...] DEAN: Dude, what kind of people are you hanging out with? SAM: No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer. DEAN: Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.

We'll learn in a later episode how well it went for Dean when he shared the family secrets with someone, so his attitude here is understandable. That said, when Rebecca finds out that something monstrous is happening with Sam, she doesn't completely flip out -- the evidence is in front of her, and she appreciates Sam's help. So, maybe Dean's wrong about this. ...But we never see Rebecca again, and there's no indication that Sam actually kept up with her or Zack after this hunt.

Sam also never told Jessica the truth about his life, and he doubles down on that choice when he tells Dean in episode one that Jessica was never going to know. He thinks there can be a partition between the hunting life (that doesn't even count as life, and is dangerous and bad and must be kept secret) and the "real" life in the daylight, and sees no issue in closing his entire past and large parts of himself away. It's safer, and better, and he'll be able to get through it and have that normal life he always said he wanted.

It doesn't work that way, though, and not only because the plot intervened. We've already had the moral structure of this universe established and it is not acceptable to ignore those things you could have done something about, with your knowledge and skills. Sam's a hunter, got trained that way for ten years, and the pretense that he can be wholly in these friendships (or romantic relationships) while partitioning away a massive part of his history and personality is a farce that was doomed to end. His friends didn't know him because he couldn't let them know him. He says himself, he never really fit in. The 'normal life' he was after wasn't ever going to be an option. He understands that, by the end of the episode; accepting it will take a little longer. At least he and Dean are freaks together.

#supernatural #spn20 #spn20rewatch #spn meta #spn 1.06

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kitspindles · 2 years ago

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I’m in no way bashing on people who have already finished TSatS and say they hate it, are disappointed, etc., because I myself have not gone past chapter seven. My friend let me read some today, but I won’t have my own copy until Thursday, so maybe my opinions will change. I will say, however, that if you read 400+ pages in less than a day, maybe give yourself some time to process the entire plot first?

In any case, I can’t help but wonder how many people went into this book expecting one version of Nico and Will, only to be hit with something else entirely. And I mean like... expecting the fandom’s versions of these two, rather than what canon has previously shown us up until this book.

It’s my personal opinion that the PJO fandom’s worse enemy is their own mischaracterization of the characters at times. And I don’t mean like little head canons and stuff. Everyone has done those at some point. There’s usually no harm in those. I’m talking about people who created their own versions of Nico and Will and have been running with these visions for years through different fan fictions and what-not online.

For years we’ve known basically nothing about Will aside from the fact that he’s sarcastic, likes Star Wars, his mom is a country singer, he can glow in the dark, and he’s better at healing than fighting. (And he has questionable fashion choice at times). Like, that’s all we’ve had since his initial introduction in The Last Olympian over a decade ago. Everything else? Online and fan speculation. And again, there is nothing wrong with that! I just feel like a lot of people went into this book holding onto their own pre-conceived visions of what Will Solace was and ended up disappointed the authors made him... different? But not really different, because he didn’t have a lot of in-depth personality or backstory before this.

Me personally? Yeah, I’m not that far into the book yet but I’m loving how Will is portrayed so far. He’s still sarcastic, but he’s shown his fair share of level-headedness as well as frustrations just within the first couple chapters. He is in no way the overly-optimistic sunshine-y boy who only exists to help Nico that the fandom has portrayed him to be all these years. His character arc is already headed in a way deeper direction (more on that when I finish the book). The whole bit where Will had coffee spilled on him and spent the next couple paragraphs in the scene trying to be unbothered while actually giving off “This is fine” fire dog energies? I loved that.

As for Nico, can I just say I adore how he’s written in this book? Aside from his PoV in Blood of Olympus, this is the first time he’s had his own narration. And it’s actually about him and more in-depth than previous times. I’ve heard people say that he’s “out of character,” and while I can see a little of what they’re all saying, I just want to know... what version of Nico have you all been reading? Did I miss something?

Up until this book, what exactly did we know about Nico? That he’s displaced in time, his sister and mother are both dead (and he feels alone), he harbored repressed gay feelings from his upbringing as a Catholic guy in 1940s Italy, and he’s been through the ringer more than once (so, trauma, basically). Oh, and he’s a bit of a nerd (Mythomagic and knowing all kinds of ancient creatures). That’s... about it. Everything has been speculation and projection from fans.

In previous books he’s always been portrayed from first- or third-person point of view (usually from people who don’t know him well and just think he’s “creepy”), leading to the idea that he’s distant and low-empathy based on some interactions he’s had with demigods who weren’t thrilled to be around him, during a time of great pressure. But he’s not exactly uncaring. He’s been shown to care a lot, actually (Bianca, Hestia, Bob, everything he’s done for Percy, his friendship with Reyna, Hazel, etc.)

But what about when he was ten? He was an excitable, curious kid who liked to have fun. And what did we see briefly in Trials of Apollo (before Jason died, at least)? We saw some of that energy return, particularly in The Hidden Oracle.

So, yeah, I’m personally thrilled to see him making cringe-y jokes and have some self-deprecating humor. It’s very “#OnBrand” for a traumatized teenager who’s just trying to cope and live life without any godly wars forcing him this way and that. Can we really say it’s “out of character” if we’ve never seen more than one side of Nico? (The under pressure side, from other character’s PoVs, in books not about him where he’s basically been a side character?) I’m just glad to see him cracking jokes, laughing, and acting more like a normal kid.

Now, is this book different from Rick’s other ones? Uh, yeah. I won’t say it’s not. But it’s not bad. It’s supposed to be different. It has slightly different intentions than the other books (re: explicitly working through trauma and relationship bumps). Also, it’s co-written. Co-written books always read slightly off from the original author’s work, but dam if it isn’t hard to meld writing styles and copy another author’s particular voice. But I think Mark did a very good job at imitating Rick’s style (again, from what I’ve read so far).

Will I change my mind on all this the farther I get into the book? Maybe. There’s a lot to read and take in. All I’m saying is don’t let the negative reviews warp your opinion of the book if you haven’t read it yet and are on the fence if you should or not. Wait for the PDF to drop, or for a library copy, and read and see for yourself.

#nico di angelo #will solace #the sun and the star #tsats #tsats preview #tsats predictions #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa #rick riordan #mark oshiro #rrverse #riordanverse #riordan universe #Read Riordan #my stuff

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year ago

Text

It's a little past two AM when Wayne opens his lunchbox and finds himself unable to stop the smile that's creeping onto his face.

He's met with a note, in neat handwriting:

My dear Wayne, I hope you're having a good day/night at work. I made you some extra healthy sandwiches because of that cough you were worried about – I hope you like fresh tomato and lettuce. (Please don't get mad at me for trying to make you eat vegetables on your bread.) I also hid some clementines in your bag. I'll be thinking about you when I go to bed, and I can't wait to see you again in the morning. Love, S.

'Munson!'

He startles when he hears his own name and looks up to find his colleagues looking at him with various degrees of amusement.

'Who woulda thought?' John McMillan laughs while some of the younger guys let out wolf whistles. 'Wayne Munson got himself a lady?'

'We've been working here together for almost ten years and I don't think I ever saw you smile before,' Bernie adds. 'So she wrote you a love letter to go with your sandwiches, huh?'

Wayne rubs a hand over his beard, trying to hide his inclination to hide away from all those eyes staring at him like he's something funny. He has never liked being the center of attention.

'Don't act like y'all know somethin' you don't,' he grumbles.

'Who is she?' asks Logan. 'Can't be someone from the trailer park, you never were interested in any of 'em. Found yourself a more classy one? Someone from Loch Nora who gets the hots for a working man?'

Wayne suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at him.

'You got it all wrong, boys,' he says, hoping they'll back off soon.

'Do we, now?' With a taunting smile, John McMillan plucks the note out of Wayne's hands, and starts reading it out loud to his little audience in a high-pitched, faux dramatic voice.

Wayne isn't ashamed, and he knows the teasing is mostly meant in good fun, but he feels an overwhelming relief about the fact that Scott had been smart enough to not sign the note with his full name.

'S, look at that!' McMillan exclaims triumphantly, putting the note back into Wayne's lunchbox. 'So he got a mystery lady... Guys, who do we know with names starting with an S? Any girlfriends or wives we should get worried 'bout cheating?'

There's laughter, some guesses thrown around by people thinking they're funny, but Wayne mostly lets it glide off him, the same way he'd endure their comments about Eddie back in March. Granted, this teasing is much less mean-spirited than the so-called banter back then, but he still doesn't like to get involved. The less these men know about him, the better; that's a lesson he learned a long time ago. So he eats his bread – and even a clementine – while he lets them guess and pretends to laugh with them.

When the break is over and they get up to go back to their job, Bernie matches his pace to Wayne's.

'Look, you know we've been teasing you, but we're happy for ya, man, you know that, right?' he says.

Wayne pats him on his shoulder. Bernie is a good guy. He was one of the few men around here who actually seemed concerned about Eddie when all that shit went down. As far as Wayne knows, he never chose a side back then, never came for his nephew like those guys like Logan or John McMillan, with their big mouths and narrow minds.

'All good, Bernie, thanks,' he says.

'Does she make you happy?'

The question catches him by surprise; it prompts his lips to curve into the second unexpected smile of that day.

He thinks about the way Scott looked at him before they said goodbye this evening. He thinks about the sparkle in Scott's eyes whenever he talks about his students. He thinks about the way his hands held Wayne all through the night they spent together last weekend. He thinks about his neat mustache, his soft sweater vests, his long fingers cradled around one of Wayne's mugs. He pictures the private smile that must've surely been on Scott's face, a smile nobody saw, when he filled Wayne's lunchbox with fresh veggies and a surprise note.

'Very,' he tells Bernie, before slowing down his steps to be left alone with his thoughts about the man who will be waiting for him in bed after his shift, asleep and with his hair a mess, but waking up for a second to kiss Wayne's lips like he always does.

There is nothing that makes him happier than that one hour they get to share in bed together before Scott's alarm goes off in the morning.

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #wayne munson #scott clarke #clarkson #wayne munson x scott clarke #clarkson my beloved #fruity ficlet #gah it makes me so happy writing clarkson again #their presence is like a warm blanket to me #i missed them

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to-be-a-dreamer · 3 months ago

Note

you sound like a right winger. cancel culture?

This is legitimately the funniest insult I’ve ever received thank you Anon. Like, you can’t think of any better way to discredit my post about how I wish people would just let a character be Not Racist and acknowledge that sometimes people can learn they were wrong and become better people so you call me (a queer woman of color who is college-educated and an immigrant, btw, just so we’re all on the same page) a “right winger” for using easily-recognizable terminology to ensure everyone reading understands what I think is the core issue. Incredible, insane, I wish you weren’t a coward who posted anonymously so I could scroll through your blog because I’m sure you’ve got jokes.

But anyways, since we’re all here I’ll take the opportunity to explain what I mean and my thoughts on cancel culture.

Original post that Anon is talking about for reference

People on the internet are obsessed with this idea of perfection. They think that a person has to do the right thing, always, every time. They think that a person who does or has ever done something shitty is just a shitty person who doesn’t deserve a platform. And they think that a person who was a shitty person in the past should always be viewed in that way. They can never accept that someone could have toxic or harmful views, realize they were wrong, and then become a better person, especially if they went through that journey offline or a long time ago. They don’t care if the person they see before them is clearly an open-minded, good person who doesn’t possess those views anymore. In their eyes, that person is still that same bigoted asshole from three, five, ten, twenty years ago and they have to acknowledge that past and be publicly shamed for it every single day in order to be “forgiven”. (They will never truly forgive)

And it’s just. I don’t understand it because what is the point of activism and education if we’re not going to allow people to learn what we’re trying to teach? How is our movement supposed to grow if we don’t accept the people who have been touched and reformed by it? How does any of this get better if we don’t allow people to be better?

Here’s my biggest problem with “cancel culture” (the mass ostracism and shaming of someone who has behaved or spoken in a socially unacceptable way). I think that this kind of mindset has led to an entire generation of internet users who are terrified of ever doing “the wrong thing” on the internet. We’re so afraid of making mistakes because we know how hard it is to come back from that and how unforgivable the rest of the internet is. And it’s turned us into overly defensive people who struggle to admit when we’ve done something wrong. We’re terrified to consider the possibility that we’re the "bad guy" in any situation because we've convinced ourselves that doing something shitty makes you a shitty person. We think our individual actions are lifetime sentences. I've seen so many people on the internet make small mistakes but double down and take things way too far when they're called out for it because they don't want to see themselves as a person who does problematic things. Because we've convinced ourselves that making a mistake makes you a bad person on a fundamental level. We've tied the amount of criticism we receive to our self-worth.

I also notice that it prevents people who actually need to learn and be better from realizing that. Because the amount of hate someone receives is so disproportionate to any mistake they actually made, it's so easy for a person to think "okay there's no way I deserve to be harassed this much, this is probably just the internet overreacting again, I haven't done anything wrong" and instead of learning the small lesson they needed to learn they just brush off the hate and dismiss it as cancel culture.

And so to bring this back to 9-1-1, I do think that some of the hate towards Tommy is due to shipping wars, but on a deeper level I think people just can't handle the truth that Tommy is actually a good person now. Maybe it stems from people hating the idea that someone who made their own lives miserable could learn and grow and become a better person later in life like Tommy did. Maybe people have some unresolved trauma about bigots that they're projecting onto these characters. Maybe they want to feel morally superior and just don't like the idea that someone who was shitty in the past could go on to have the same views and ideals as them. It's hard to tell for sure and it probably varies from person to person but I think the idea that a person has to be defined by their past is a big part of it on all levels.

Anyways, those are my thoughts on cancel culture as a whole and why I think the current generation of internet users has a really tough time taking accountability and why we all have rejection sensitivity (not RSD, the actual real medical condition, just a general sensitivity to being told you're in the wrong). We don't like to confront our own flaws because, according to the internet, those flaws make you a terrible person always and forever and you will never be able to overcome them or move past them. I hope this all makes sense I've been thinking about this a lot since 2020 but I've never tried to explain it in words. I don't think there's anything wrong with holding people accountable for past actions, I think there's something wrong with the disproportionate hate those people receive and the amount of shaming and shunning they have to go through before they're allowed to move on with their lives.

#this post is barely about anon i've been wanting to talk about this for ages #thank you anon for giving me an excuse to ramble about the ideas that have been bouncing around in my brain for almost half a decade #911 discourse #911 abc #911 show #tommy kinard #bucktommy #buck x tommy #cancel culture

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gyoobies · 1 month ago

Text

Pairing: Kun x Ten x Fem Reader

Genre: fluffy smut

Explicit content 18+, Minors DNI!

________ I've been sitting on this for some time now, but seeing as how it's my baby Kun's birthday, this seems like the perfect time to post this.

I hope you enjoy 🤎

He wasn't as bold as Ten, but honestly he didn’t know many people that were. In times like this though he envied how brazen Ten could be. He certainly wouldn't be sitting at a table next to yours pretending to be busy as he listened to you talk to whom he'd assumed was a close friend on the phone. He admired your smile, the polite way you greeted the cashier when you walked in, how you seemed to light up the room just by simply existing, he took note of how expressive you were while speaking. You reminded him of his lover, that’s probably why you caught his attention so easily. You'd probably find Ten to be more interesting than him, but that was kind of the point. He was confident in his likeability, don't get him wrong, Ten was certainly likeable, but he was bold, blunt and it could be a lot for some, that much had been proven in the past. So, as long as you were interested in Ten, that was good enough for him. The only problem now was how to approach you, how to ask you out on behalf of himself and his partner. He stood up in an attempt to approach you but quickly decided to run to the restroom to make sure he didn't have any stray crumbs or spills he hadn't noticed. He was almost certain he didn't, but he'd be more comfortable talking to you if he double checked his appearance.

The interior of the café restroom was surprisingly ornate and Kun got a bit distracted momentarily as he took in the design choices, making note of what he liked and what could be better. He and Ten would be opening their own place soon and the trip to this café was just one of what felt like thousands they had taken to get inspiration. He quickly took a few photos before remembering the original reason he'd come to the restroom in the first place. Looking into the mirror he was pleased with his reflection. Not a hair out of place and not a single drop of evidence as to what he'd eaten anywhere. He was glad he'd decided to check his appearance, it gave him a boost of confidence when he looked into the mirror and replayed his morning interaction with his lover just before he left, remembering how Ten jokingly said he didn't want him to do café runs today because he looked so sexy that he might run off with someone else.

He chuckled as he ran his finger over the little cat charm that dangled from his neck, thinking of how Ten was almost right, but Kun wasn't considering running off with anyone else, he wanted someone that they could both run away with, and he was hoping he'd found that person. One quick selfie to send to his lover before he attempted to gain another, and back to the café he went, hopeful.

It had been a long day of going over all the menus that had been collected over the last few months, research for their own menu, when a somber-faced Kun walked through the door of their shared home. His usual bright smile that revealed his dimples whenever he laid eyes on Ten was now tight lipped and non existent.

"Well, hello to you too I guess." Ten deadpanned.

Letting out a sigh Kun apologized for not giving the greeting Ten was clearly expecting.

"I missed our chance." Is all he said as he plopped onto the love seat next to Ten, resting his head on his shoulder. Ten gently brushed Kun's hair away from his face now feeling a bit concerned about why his boyfriend, who's usually so excited to share what he's found on his café runs, was so melancholy.

"You want to talk about it?"

Kun nodded his head, and with a pout began to speak.

"I found someone I wanted to approach, she reminded me a lot of you, and I felt like you two would get along well, but I went to check my appearance and ended up admiring the bathroom decor instead.” he sighed.

“By the time I made it out, she was gone."

Ten chuckled. "cute. So, you're so pouty because you missed out on talking to a pretty girl."

Kun rolled his eyes "that's not why! She was cute, really cute, kind of sexy actually, but she was also funny, and smart."

Kun shied away from Ten's gaze as he squinted his eyes, smirking as he bumped Kuns side playfully.

"And just how do you know all that if you didn't speak to her? Were you being a creep?"

Kun muttered a "shut up" as he crossed his arms in frustration.

Ten couldn't resist his boyfriends pouty behavior, a side he could often forget existed when Kun was in business mode, completely focused and driven. He leaned in to place a loving kiss on his soft lips. "If it is meant to be, it will be."

Words so simple yet they were so reassuring to Kun as he once again rested on Ten and began to discuss more ideas for their business.

About a month and a half into the opening of their café, business had picked up significantly from opening day. In fact, it had picked up so much that Ten had to hire someone to help during the weekends. The café even had quite a few regulars, one in particular always seemed to brighten Ten's day. He had learned a bit about her including her favorite pastry. She often came in late evenings, close to closing so he had started a habit of making sure to keep one aside for her on the days she'd come into the café. She reminded him a lot of himself, but there was one aspect of her that absolutely reminded him of Kun. She was an overachiever, a know it all, whose hobbies included a bit of everything.

He knew Kun was adamant that he find their new partner, determined to find someone that would love Ten as much as he did. Ten assumed this determination was due to the outcome of the relationship with their last partner. The relationship itself didn't last long, but the effects of what happened lingered. It had only been a couple months into the relationship when the realization that their previous partner didn't really have much in common with Ten and was only there to attempt to win Kun's heart for themselves came to light. The wounds of betrayal were healed but the scars were still there, especially when it came to Kun's heart.

Ten worried that Kun would be reluctant to accept her because of how much she and Kun actually had in common, but as you opened the glass door and entered with a jingle of the bell above the threshold, Ten's worries seemed to melt away and he found himself smiling with a big Cheshire cat grin as you stepped up to the counter.

He watched as you place your drink order, pouting at the empty spot in the glass pastry case where your favorite was supposed to be, as if you didn't already know what was tucked away safely just for you.

Arms crossed over his waist, he eyed you while you thanked the clerk and headed over to your usual table tucked away in the corner.

An audible chuckle left him, causing his employee to glance back at him with a puzzled expression before he followed Ten's gaze over to where you sat.

"If you need me I'll be talking to my friend just over there." He explained as he stepped into the kitchen briefly to grab the treat he'd saved for you.

As you sat in the corner of your new favorite café, you began to go over images from a recent shoot for your latest project when a plate with your favorite pastry was placed on your table.

"Mind if I join you gorgeous?"

You huffed pretending to be inconvenienced by Ten's request.

"Sigh, well, you did come bearing gifts so I guess."

The exaggerated gasp Ten let out caused you to break character and burst out into a fit of laughter.

"Let's see how funny it is the next time you come in on a late Saturday evening and your favorite treat is not waiting for you."

You scoffed at his threat, "that's impossible, it's your shop, you have to be here" you said as you shot him a wink.

It took him a second to catch on, but once he realized what you meant he gave you a sly smirk. Just as he was readying his response he was called to the counter to help with a last minute rush that kept him occupied through the rest of your visit, which you were surprisingly relieved about. Yes, Ten was a shameless flirt, but today you'd actually left him a bit speechless and flustered. You wanted to spend a little more time in the café, but you were more than happy to cut your visit short to let him sit with that feeling until the next time you came. You made sure to send a smile and a wave his way as you made your way out the door just before he finished up with his last customer.

Ten could only hum and smile to himself as he headed home for the night, cooking up a plan to introduce you to Kun without telling his boyfriend who you were. Was it a bit deceptive? Yes, but he didn't want Kun to analyze the hell out of you. He just wanted to see if a connection could happen on it's own without either of you knowing what he was up to, so he asked a simple question once he arrived home.

"Kun, Renjun needs this Saturday off, so can you work the full day with me?"

And just like that Ten's plan was set into motion.

That Saturday Kun, was more than happy to work all day with Ten. Usually he opened alone to prepare all the baked goods for the day and was done by noon, when Renjun came in, but he could power through a long day if it meant seeing Ten be the social butter fly he had come to treasure. It was no wonder to Kun why business was booming, sure the baked goods and coffee were among the best in the town but he was sure Ten's charismatic nature was a huge selling point.

As the day went on, the sun that shone so brightly that morning, guiding patrons into the café, had been covered by thick grey clouds. This certainly explained why the foot traffic had slowed considerably. Ten anxiously watched the clock, worrying that the inclement weather would keep you away this evening.

Kun's eyes were tired and Ten could see the exhaustion dripping from him. A pang of guilt shot through him as he watched Kun wipe down the counter, all while he was planning to do this exact thing to him again next Saturday if you didn't show up today. Hopeful that you would stick to your routine Ten kissed Kun on the cheek and informed him he'd start cleaning the kitchen in preparation for closing.

The calm drizzle gave way to a frantic downpour ensuring that the now empty café would probably stay that way through closing. Realizing this, Kun allowed himself to take a rest and pulled up a stool to the counter. Finally off his feet, his eyes began to drift closed. The pattering of the rain against the glass window front had lulled him into a the beginnings of sleep when the familiar chime of the bell that sat over the door rang out, but the sound didn't move a now sleeping Kun, whose head rested on the countertop, supported by his crossed arms.

Ten listened by the kitchen door hoping to hear your familiar voice chatting with Kun, but when there was nothing more than silence he decided to sneak a peek from the small round window of the kitchen doors. He could have melted when he saw you just standing at the counter admiring Kun's sleeping face. He dug his phone out from the utility pocket of his apron and took a quick photo in hopes that one day he'd be able to look back on the moment with the two of you fondly.

You had really considered not stopping off to the café after the meeting with your client, but the promise of a delicious, hot cup of coffee and Ten's flirtatious smile was calling to you, despite the storm. Now inside the welcoming atmosphere of the quaint coffee shop, you'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit disappointed to see he wasn't waiting at the counter for you, but you had to admit this oddly familiar sleeping beauty wasn't too bad either.

"Looks like you've had a long day." You said softly, which earned you a soft hum from the man. You giggled a bit when you realized your greeting didn't do much to wake him, so you let your eyes explore his features admiring the way his lips seemed to have a natural pout as he slept. The man shifted slightly causing his strawberry blonde locs to fall across his face. You frowned at the intrusion and found yourself gently brushing the hair back from his face so you could admire the beauty mark that rested below his eyebrow. You quickly pulled your hand away and cleared your throat to wake him when you realized how much of a creep you were being.

The sound of you clearing your throat is what woke Kun from his brief slumber. Stumbling and apologizing, Kun jumped to his feet to service you, only to be cemented in place once the disorientation faded and the familiarity of your smile sent a wave of butterflies through him. A peaceful awkwardness setteled between the two of you before you broke the silence with your order. You watched as he adorably fumbled through punching in your drink order before asking if there was anything else you'd like to order. You took a look over to the empty spot in the glass case before declining with a sigh as you handed over your card for payment.

It had been about 3 months since Kun had laid eyes on you, the woman that intrigued him and if he was being honest with himself, had never really left his thoughts. Now, as you sat in the corner of the café he struggled to keep his composure. Despite his nerves he successfully made your coffee and brought it to your table without spilling it, placing it gently in front of you before turning and making a B-line for the kitchen.

Kun stumbled into the kitchen, rushing over to an obviously startled Ten, whisper yelling almost incoherently.

"It's her! The corner! The coffee! From the café!"

Despite Kun's frantic spewing of words Ten was able to piece together what he was trying to say, a skill developed over the years of their relationship.

"Wait! Just calm down. Are you trying to tell me that the person you wanted to ask out months ago is the woman sitting at the corner table?"

"Yes." Kun huffed as he tried to calm himself.

Ten could only smile at this outcome, what were the odds that you would turn out to be the same woman Kun had been trying to approach all those months ago?

Before Ten could fill Kun in on the situation the familiar chime of the café bell was heard causing both men to rush out to the counter only to find an empty café.

Kun laid himself across the counter dramatically, resting his forehead on the countertop, he let out a frustrated chuckle. Ten briefly watched the dramatic display before he casually strolled over to the table to wipe it down finding a note you'd left behind.

"Hey Romeo! She left a note for you." He called as he placed the note on the counter beside Kun. Having quickly read over the note before placing it by Kun, Ten waited patiently for a reaction. Kun quickly picked up the small piece of paper, eyes going wide as he read to himself.

'Sleeping beauty, tell Ten if he doesn't treat his employees better I'll report him for overworking you."

"You know her?" Kun looked up at Ten, the exhaustion now momentarily forgotten as he excitedly questioned Ten about you while they finished closing up. That night Kun learned your name, what you did for work, how often you came in, that Ten would usually save a special pastry for you, how often he flirted and how you had caught him off guard when you boldy flirted back. Kun found it amusing hearing that you had left Ten a bit flustered during a previous visit.

For Kun, next Saturday couldn't come soon enough, already more than willing to work all day, for the opportunityto see you again. Ten assured him as he kissed his cheek, that wouldn't be necessary, he could just come in around the time you usually arrived.

The following Saturday Kun was buzzing with excitement all morning with the thought of finally really meeting you, and by the time Ten arrived at noon kun was practically floating across the café floor as he assisted customers, dimples on full display.

Ten made his way to the kitchen and just as he looked up from tying on his apron, he was quickly pulled flush with Kun and recieved a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Eww. I can literally taste how smitten you are already."

"Shut up" kun giggled as he tucked Ten's hair behind his ear before stepping away.

"Renjun is coming in early so you can head home and rest a bit before she arrives." Ten chuckled as he sent Kun off.

As the day went on it began to mirror the previous Saturday, sunny and inviting during the morning but the late afternoon grew grey and dreary. Once again Ten found the café nearly empty due to an approaching storm that threatened to bring much heavier downpours than the last. Concerned, he decided to let Renjun end his shift early to make it home before the storm hit.

It was only an hour later when Kun walked through the door umbrella drenched and leaking on the floor as he stalked across the café to put it away along with his jacket.

"It's getting bad out there" Kun said as he grabbed the mop from the utility closet to clean up the trail of small puddles he'd made when he entered the shop.

"Yea, I doubt she'll come today." Ten pouted as he went to wipe down the tables, Kun's expression mimicked his partner's until their pitty party was interrupted by the sound of the café phone ringing.

"I got it!" Kun shouted. "Thank you for calling perfect10n café, I'm Kun how can I- oh! Yes I remember you. Yes we're still open until 8pm. You're where?! No! Stay there I'll come get you! No, really its fine." Kun quickly hung up the phone, grabbed his umbrella and headed for the door but before he could leave Ten grabbed his wrist.

"Where are you going?! It's raining so hard you can barely see!"

Kun quickly explained the situation and Ten's attitude immediately shifted from where do you think you're going? To hurry up and go! Once he knew it was you that needed help.

It was either bad luck or a stroke of luck that caused your car to stall out a couple blocks away from the café, either way, you were grateful that Kun was kind enough to come save you from being stranded in the nearby parking lot that you were able to coast to when your car decided it didn't want to work anymore. It wasn't long before Kun pulled up beside you so that his passenger door was aligned with your door. You grabbed your bag and prepared to dash across the short distance into his car hoping to remain somewhat dry in the process. The task of staying relatively dry was easier than expected because before you had the chance to open your door he was right there with an umbrella, waiting for you.

Once you were comfortably seated in the passenger seat of Kun's car you thanked him for being so kind despite not really knowing you. The ensuing smile that revealed his dimples raised your body temperature as you found yourself wondering how someone could be so attractive.

"I didn't notice the dimples last time, but then again you didn't stick around too long for me to see more than a blur that day." You stated with a playful tone.

Kun, suddenly bashful, apologized for his abrupt departure the first time you met.

"Sorry, I wasn't really expecting to see you so I was caught off guard."

You furrowed your brows at his statement. "Why would seeing me catch you off guard? You really weren't expecting anymore customers huh?" You laughed, but before he could answer, his phone rang and he had never been more relieved in his life. He apologized and quickly answered the call.

You could hear Ten's voice on the other line, seemingly filled with concerned. Kun gave words of reassurance, as he checked his surroundings before backing out of the parking spot. Abruptly the car came to a halt once again when the annoying beep signaling that you hadn't fastened your seatbelt sounded. You're sure it was on instinct that Kun leaned across you to reach your seatbelt, but unbeknownst to either of you, it was stuck in the door. Kun seemed to be clueless as to how close he was to you, too focused on the seatbelt and Ten whom he still had on the phone. Finally noticing the belt was caught in the door he ended the call promising to return soon and quickly opened and shut the door to free it.

During this battle between Kun, the door, and the seatbelt, you'd noticed a stray raindrop that trailed from his hairline to his cheek. Before you could even consider stopping yourself, you sweetly wiped it away with a swipe of your thumb.

Now looking down into your eyes he could feel it, a pull, drawing him into you. He knew he shouldn't, he should wait until you knew everything, but he couldn't help getting lost in the moment when you pressed your lips against his. The sound of the seatbelt retracting was followed by the feeling of Kun's hand cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. You couldn't get enough, as you threaded your fingers through the hair at his nape. He seemed to appreciate the action as he groaned at the feeling. You knew you should probably hurry back, the rain was only getting heavier and fogging up the windows with someone that was practically a stranger to you and obviously friends with another man you were in a constant state of flirtation and infatuation with, and who was likey anxiously waiting on the two of you, probably wasn't your best life choice.

You gave a gentle tug to Kun's hair as a signal that you should get going and he relented very reluctantly, but the smile he had as he finally buckled your seatbelt just before wiping the condensation from the windows, both melted your heart and pained it.

The guilt of what you had just been doing was starting to set in as you walked into the café tucked into Kun's side as he attempted to keep you both as dry as possible under his umbrella.

The chime of the bell signaled Ten of your arrival like it had done so many times before. You felt your heart flutter at the sight of Ten rushing out from the back with towels for the both of you to dry off with, knowing that you'd both be a little wet when you made it back.

Ten quickly grabbed the hands of the two of you, to lead you both to a table where he had set out hot bowls of soup, warm bread, and hot tea for all of you. You were a ball of anxiety thinking about what would happen if Ten started his usual flirting in front of Kun. You did your best to play it cool as Ten chatted with you about what happen to your car, but your nerves kicked into overdrive the minute Kun began to speak and you noticed the way Ten's eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Kun. You took one look at Kun and knew the jig was up. There he sat in all his deceptive glory chatting happily to Ten with your lip tint smudge on the corner of his mouth. You hoped he would let it go, that he would write it off as his imagination, but you wouldn't be that lucky today.

"Kun, you've got something on the side of your mouth." He mumbled as he handed Kun a napkin.

At this point if you hung your head any lower you'd drown in your soup, but you couldn't bring yourself to lift your head and take the chance that he'd be looking right at you.

"So, what exactly took you so long to get back?"

At that question you shot upright effectively spilling your soup all over the front of your shirt. Kun quickly grabbed the towel from his shoulders to help clean you up.

"Shit!" You hissed. You were thankful the soup had cooled a bit since you first sat down but now you had the nastiest looking stain on your top.

"Come." Was all Ten said as he held his hand out to you. "We'll be back, you can finish eating. I'm gonna get her cleaned up."

You again felt a flutter in your chest as you took his hand and followed him into the kitchen.

"Sit" He said as he pulled a stool next to the sink, then disappeared into what you assumed was an office, emerging moments later with a forest green shirt that matched his own.

"Put this on. Give me your top and I'll toss it in the wash."

He was being short with you, his tone carried a hint of irritation, and you knew why. You couldn't blame him, and you felt guilty about it, and that you should explain, just to get it out in the open. Taking a deep breath you reached out, tapping him to get his attention since he'd turned his back to give you some privacy to change. He shot you a questioning look over his shoulder.

"Are you ok? You seem upset."

That was a stupid question and you knew it, he did too, so it was no surprise when he let out an exasperated chuckle just before whipping around to face you.

"Do I?"

He was moving closer now.

"Hmmm, I wonder why you'd think I'm upset." You were caged in now, Ten's nose ghosting over the side of your face as he moved closer to your ear. "Could it be because I've been chasing you for over a month and yet Kun's the one wearing your lipstick on his face?"

A shiver ran up your spine as Ten nipped your earlobe and continued to whisper.

"How foolish of me to be worried about you being soaked by the storm when it was probably Kun that got you wet." There was a tense moment of silence before he spoke again. "We'd better get you out of this before that stain sets."

One by one you felt the buttons of your blouse being undone.

"I can't blame you, he's handsome, charming and his dimples only add to his appeal. People are suckers for dimples" Each compliment he paid to Kun was punctuated with a kiss along your neck.

"You're not upset anymore?" You sighed as you felt him pull the soup soaked top down your arms, letting it fall beside the stool.

For the first time since you'd stepped into the café you felt relaxed as Ten handed you a warm towel to wipe the soup from your skin.

"I think it's time I stop playing this cat and mouse game and we all have a talk." He said as he left you to finish dressing in the kitchen.

You weren't sure what that statement meant exactly but your mind was running wild with ideas. The one thing you knew for sure was it sent a rush of excitement through you and that feeling only intensified when you stepped out to find both men leaning against the counter waiting for you.

"You know this shirt is pretty cute on me, maybe I should work here partime." You said in an attempt to break the tension.

Kun just sucked his teeth and shook his head. "I don't think so, we'd never get anything done."

"Agreed, it's hard enough working with you." Ten said as he glance over to Kun.

"In case you haven't notice our Ten has a jealous streak." Kun grinned.

"Well, would you like seeing random people flirt with me every day?" Ten asked as he walked over to you, perching his chin on your shoulder, and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

Your eyes fluttered closed as Ten nuzzled into your neck, but they flew open the minute you felt Kun's presence in front of you.

"I knew from the moment I saw you in that coffee shop months ago that Ten would like you."

With those words you understood why Kun seemed so familiar. You'd took notice of him in a different café months ago, his hair was shorter then and darker.

"I'm gonna be up front from now on. Kun's my boyfriend and he's wanted you from the moment he saw you, I guess you could say the same for me." Ten backed away to give you space so you didn't feel uncomfortable and to let you process what he'd just said.

"Wanted me? In what way?" You questioned, hoping that their interest in you wasn't just physical.

Ten was quick to clear up any misconceptions. "Every way. We're not looking for a casual hook up if that's what you think. We want a relationship with you."

"We're not going to pressure you. It's a lot to take in, and you don't have to give us an answer today or even a week from now. We'll give you the time you need to think it over, to get to know us outside of the café." Kuns soft voice was soothing and reassuring, pulling you in, and like a moth to a flame you went to him, beckoning for Ten to follow.

You turned in Kun's arms, watching as Ten crept up to you with a cat-like sultryness.

"Good choice." He hummed as he made it over to you. His grin sending waves of arousal through you as he neared your lips finally kissing you the way he's daydreamed about while watching you at your favorite table typing away.

He was intoxicating, they both were. You tangled your hands in his hair and gave a gentle tug before pulling away, earning a soft groan from him in protest of you needing to breathe. He didn't sulk for long, as Kun was ready to pick up where you left off. You began to slide your hand from behind Ten's head, but he quickly stopped you.

"Don't" they said in unison.

There you stood between two men, molding together as hands explored bodies and soft breaths became a mix of desperate panting and needy whines, mostly from Ten. You had been so enthralled in the moment you'd forgotten where you were, until a flash of lightning illuminated the street outside. You were now fully aware that you were pressed between two men, kissing, touching, feeling eachother in a café with a glass storefront. Anyone brave enough to be outside in this storm could easily see what was taking place. Despite their protests you pulled your hand from Ten's hair and pulled away just enough to interrupt the moment.

"The windows."

Ten just smilled as he pulled you flush with him again. "What about them?" He grinned.

You rolled your eyes knowing your only hope at a sensible reaction to what you were saying would come from Kun.

You turned to Kun who was already beaming at you.

"Someone could see."

Clicking his tongue Ten made his case as to why nobody would be stupid enough to be out in that storm, but he eventually came up with a compromise and cut all the lights off in the place. You were much more comfortable with this. Ten got to live out his very obvious fucking in public fantasy and you didn't have to risk ending up on the internet if someone happened to pass by, though you were sure not a soul was out.

"Can we finish dry humping eachother now?" He asked arms crossed and devilish grin plastered on his face.

You leaned your back into Kun, reaching back to lock your fingers behind his neck, and sent a grin that mimicked his own back to Ten.

"Dry? I haven't been anywhere near dry since I made out with your boyfriend in the car."

You were working him up, you could tell by the mischievous glit in his eyes as he watched you grind your ass against Kun, earning a groan from the man behind you before he dropped his head to nip at your neck.

You thought you'd tease Ten, that he'd pounce on you the minute you softly moaned his name as you continued to grind against Kun, while he gently nipped your shoulder, but Ten was enjoying the show. His eyes roamed your body from bottom to top before locking eyes with Kun's.

" looks like Ten wants a litte preview, should we give it to him?"

The instant you agreed Kun's fingers were getting to work undoing the button on your jeans and sliding them down. You stepped out of them as you turned to face Kun, drapping your arms over his shoulders before diving in to kiss him. Kun ran his hands up your thighs, over the curve of your ass and gave it a squeeze. A soft whine was heard from behind you followed by the clank of Ten's belt hitting the floor. You broke the kiss in favor of seeing what was going on behind your back. Kun rested his chin on your shoulder, exploring the softness of your thighs while you both watch as Ten slowly rubbed himself through his boxers.

"So fucking pretty."

Your whispered praise didn't go unnoticed as Ten threw his head back and gave himself a firm squeeze at your words.

"Seems you've learned one more thing about our lover."

"OUR lover" Kun's words dripped over you like warm honey and pooled between your thighs.

"Tell him, tell him what you're thinking." Kun encouraged.

You licked your lips before speaking. "I've been wondering, if he taste as good as he looks?"

Kun let out a chuckle and Ten's eyes snapped open to glare at him.

"He does look delicious, doesn't he?"

Satisfied with Kun's answer, Ten closed his eyes once more, finally dipping his hand into his boxers to free himself as you showered him with praise. The more you feasted on the sight of Ten stroking himself the more you wiggled against Kun.

Seeing how aroused you were Kun decided to finally dip his hand down the front of your panties, humming in satisfaction at how drenched you were. You bit your lip to keep quiet not wanting to disturb Ten, but Kun and your pussy had other plans. The wet squelching of Kun's fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy quickly got Ten's attention.

"You're so fucking wet, listen to you soaking my fingers." Kun said playfully.

You let out a whimper at his words but it was almost missed, drowned out by the moan Ten let out. You could feel your orgasm quickly approaching and when Ten focused in on you. Your knees were near buckling as he watched kuns fingers burried in your pussy and down your throat giving you both a devilish grin.

Looking deep into your eyes he began to taunt you as he continued to stroke himself. "Look at you, I chased you for over a month and for what? For you to become my boyfriend's slut all because he flashed his dimples. I can't even concentrate on fucking my hand because your pussy is so fucking wet it's all I can hear.

Tens words had you squeezing Kun's fingers.

A soft chuckle fell from Kun's lips "Looks like I learned something about our baby. She likes when you're a little mean."

Kun pulled his hand from your dripping pussy and beckoned for Ten to come clean your mess from his fingers. Ten's lithe fingers gripped at your waist as he stood before you. You watched with bated breath as he opened his mouth obediently, letting Kun place his two fingers that were covered in your release on his tongue. Ten hummed at the taste of you, grabbing Kun's wrist to keep him from pulling away as he greedily cleaned his fingers pushing them all the way down his throat before one last suck, punctuated with a pop.

"That good?" Kun chuckled.

Ten ignore Kun's question for now, instead he released the grip on your waist, snaked his hand between you legs and plunged his fingers deep inside you, making you rest your head on his chest as his digits curled inside your pussy. Once he was sure you had coated his fingers generously, he pulled them from you to answer Kun's previous question.

"Taste." is all he said as he held out his fingers. You lifted your head to see Kun sucking Ten's fingers clean, finishing with a hum of approval.

You were waiting for Kun to speak, so it surprised you when Ten used his hand to guide you to look at him.

"I knew you'd taste as good as you look." he said before kissing you. Ten's kiss was just like everything else about him, sensual, passionate, powerful, and yet still delicate. He had you, you were entranced, it wasn't long before you were laid back on the counter moaning at the feeling of Ten pushing into you as Kun now took his place as the watcher.

Not even in your wildest dreams would you have ever imagined you'd be fucking Ten on the countertop of you neighborhood café. But here you were, legs wrapped around his waist, arms being held above your head by Kun as he watched with hungry eyes as Ten's dick disappeared deep into your pussy with every thrust.

You looked up at Kun's flushed face hoping he'd pull his eyes away from the show long enough to notice you were trying to get his attention.

"I think baby wants something." Ten laughed as he watched you stare up at Kun.

" I'm sorry baby, I guess I was enjoying the show too much. What do you need?" He said in the sweetest tone that didn't fit at all with the current circumstances.

"Ki-kiss" You shuddered out, eyes barely able to focus on Kun's pouty lips as he descended to oblige your request.

The kiss was so sweet & gentle, just like his voice whenever he spoke to you. As he endulged in the taste of your lips, almost kissing you breathless, you smiled against his lips when a very loud groan came from Ten. The sight of the two of you kissing so lovingly spurred on Ten's now frantic pace as he thrusted into you wildly chasing his release.

"Oh! ... fuck." He hissed "I'm gonna cum."

Kun pulled away from your lips just enough to catch the sight of Ten with his eyes screwed shut, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, moments away from crashing into his high.

"No." Was all Kun said, eyes locked on a now slow thrusting Ten that was seemingly trying to pull himself together.

"But I've wanted this for so long."

"And that's exactly why you shouldn't rush." Kun whispered before giving you a quick peck and walking around the counter to stand behind Ten.

The sound of a zipper followed by shuffling told you the Kun was undressing. You propped yourself up on your elbows to sneak a peek at Kun in all his glory and you thanked yourself for being so nosey, biting your bottom lip as you watched him stroke himself.

"Perv" Ten giggled, causing Kun to look up and smirk at you.

"Open." Kun softly commanded, and you wasted no time obeying.

"Get them nice and sloppy for me." he said as he put his fingers in your mouth.

They both watched, mouths agape as they took in the sight of you sucking off Kun's fingers, getting them completely drenched in your saliva.

You moaned at the feeling of Ten's dick twitching inside you.

"Please" Ten whimpered as he began to thrust shallowly.

Kun giggled before slapping him on the ass with his free hand. " I think that's good darling." He said as he removed his dripping fingers from your mouth.

"Ready?" He spoke softly as he pushed Ten to lean over you.

A sultry moan fell from Ten's lips as Kun pushed his soaked fingers inside him, preping him for what was to come.

You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter the longer you watched Ten's beautiful face screwed in pleasure from being stretched open, and you weren't the only one that felt it.

"Did you cum?" Ten questioned as he now stared deeply into your eyes.

Kun stopped his actions momentarily, curious of your answer. You laid back suddenly embarrassed by all of the attention. " no, I'm just really ..."

"Excited." Ten smirked and you covered your face.

"Hey, none of that. It's hot that you like watching us." Ten said as he leaned down to kiss you.

"And if you cover your face, you'll miss one of my favorite things." Kun smiled as you gave him a questioning look, only to understand what he was talking about the very next second.

You watched as he pushed into Ten and Ten let out the prettiest sound you'd ever heard. That was now one of your favorite things too.

Kun set a slow pace, probably enjoying the sight and sounds of his two lovers losing themselves exploring eachother as he delivered slow gentle strokes to Ten.

"Faster." Ten said as he brought your hand up to place a kiss on your palm.

"Touch me." He demanded as he looked into your eyes.

"You're spolied" You chided, earning a chuckle from Kun and an eye roll from Ten.

"But you love me anyway, don't you?" Ten questioned as he began to flick his thumb over your pert nipple.

You sighed and let your eyes fall close as Kun began to finally pick up his pace. The symphony of sounds that filled the air was music to your ears, Ten's soft moans mixed with Kun's lower grunts along with the slapping of Kun's hips against Ten's ass was enough to have your head in the clouds, completely thick with lust. It was all so much but you craved more and as if he could hear your thoughts Kun took one of his hands from Ten's waist and began to rub your clit. You opened your eyes to see Ten staring at you, bottom lip once again tucked between his teeth. You were hanging on by a thread, and doing your best to keep it together, but any hope you had of holding on for much longer was diminished the moment Kun spoke one simple word.

"Spit"

And you watched as Ten let it drip from his lips directly onto your clit. The minute Ten's spit made contact Kun continued to rub your clit, with more pressure and speed.

He was a man on a mission, determined to get you off before he'd let Ten or himself go. His intensity grew with every stroke, it felt like Kun was fucking right through Ten and into you and if his thrust were driving Ten's dick into you to the point that you were screaming both of their names and clawing at Ten's forearms, you could only image how Ten was feeling, experiencing the feeling of both of you at once. If his face was any indication, you'd say he was barely holding on like you.

The scene unfolding before you was so hypnotizing, you watched as Kun wrapped his hand in Ten's hair, pulling his head back to lick up his neck to his ear. You could have forgotten you were a part of it, if it wasn't for the soft slap to your clit.

"You're daydreaming because Kun's taking too long to change the pace aren't you?" Ten groaned.

At that moment Kun delivered a sharp thrust into Ten that cause him to jolt forward burying him deeper inside you.

You unraveled on the spot clenching around Ten as you screamed their names. The cocky smile Kun sent your way as he picked up the pace had your pussy pulsing around Ten ready to cum again. You let your body rest flat on the counter completly limp and still floating as Ten slung your legs over his shoulders. You'd be wearing pants for weeks until the love bites Ten was littering up and down your calves faded.

You could feel another orgasm building and the speed in which it was building increased the minute Kun pushed Ten flush against your chest and began to snap his hips into Ten. The new position had everyone's toes curling and for the second time that night you were cuming all over Ten's dick. A few more thrusts and Ten gasped out that he needed to cum. It was only when Kun sweetly requested that he hold it just a bit longer did you remember he had been holding off until he had permission. This was just one more thing you were learning about their dynamic.

You were spent, limp, completely out of it and nearing overstimulation and it must have been obvious.

"Let's finish this up so we can get to the good part." said Kun as he lifted Ten, moving him from between your legs to rest his upper body against the counter.

You wondered momentarily about what "the good part" was because you were so sure this was it. You slowly sat up to get a better view of them as Kun leaned down to leave kisses between Ten's shoulder blades while burying himself deeper.

" I know you're tired baby, but would you mind getting your knees a little dirty for Ten?" He said as he gave one final kiss to Ten's back.

You were in fact tired but what you wanted more than anything at this moment was to hear the beautiful moan Ten would inevitably let out from his climax, so you did as requested and wedged yourself into the small space created as Ten bent over the counter.

Ten was ready to burst, you could tell by the way he throbbed in your hand just before whimpering at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his tip. Ten's sounds of pleasure gave you the energy boost you needed to go at him with your all. Slowly, you took him into your mouth making sure he hit the back of you throat with every Bob of your head. You were so focused on sucking Ten's dick until he exploded that you didn't realize he had adjusted his position to where only his forearms rested on the counter, so now he was able to look down at you as Kun delivered steady, yet deep thrust into him, making sure he wasn't so rough that you might get bumped against the counter.

A few more thrusts and head bobs and Ten was practically sobbing from the need to cum. It wasn't much longer after you picked up the pace did you hear Kun reach his peak, as he delivered one last thrust burying himself deep inside Ten, subsequently bringing about Ten's own release.

You sucked Ten dry, making sure to take every drop of him into your mouth that you could. Kun watched you in amusement, seeing you wince slightly, knowing that you now understood why he laughed when you said you wondered if Ten tasted as good as he looked. On shakey legs Ten let Kun guide him to rest against the counter as he helped you to your feet. You gave him a tight lipped smile before turning to French kiss Ten.

Almost immediately Ten pulled away from you to spit causing Kun to break out in a fit of laughter.

"Gross!" He hissed.

"Exactly! I thought you were just kidding about not liking fruit but...eat a damn fruit Ten, you taste like battery acid!" You scolded as you watched him wipe his tongue with a napkin.

Kun lead the two of you to the private bathroom in their office to clean up as best you could, it was clear the storm had no intention of letting up anytime soon, so after freshening up a bit the three of you piled onto the couch in the main area with limbs intertwined, delicate fleeting kisses, gentle caresses, and thoughts of your future together, as you watched the raging storm beyond the storefront.

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