#THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS IT MADE ME SMILE SO BIG

[joongieology]

My Wife? My Wife. | Park Seonghwa

Pairing: Husband!Seonghwa x Wife!Reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!! jealousy, possessive!Seonghwa, simp!Seonghwa, cussing, nudity, mention of worshipping, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), endearments (let me know if I missed something!)

Sypnosis: You're at a Gala waiting for your husband, when you bumped into someone you knew from your university days. To say your husband was jealous would be an understatement.

Note: This is the first time I wrote smut...hope you'll like it!!

Disclaimer: The following content is a work of fiction and does NOT represent the written member in any way. You're responsible for the content you consume.

You're standing on the marble floor of one of the biggest hotel around the world, with your mask in place, and your hand gliding over the slightly wrinkled part of your beautiful red dress, attempting to straighten it.

You're at a Masquerade Gala today, your 'husband' nowhere in sight. He did say he's going to be late—well, technically, his secretary did—but you still felt nervous and out of place. You looked around, everyone wearing a mask, but you're sure that these people are very important people, just like your husband.

You're husband is the young CEO of a big food company, passed down to him by his father, who retired early to 'enjoy the rest of his life'. You, on the other hand, is the heir to your mother's famous fashion brand.

You both never really did anything like other couples do, because your marriage was just out of convenience for both companies, but of course, you have to act like the perfect couple in public, under the watchful gaze of thousands of people who knew you both. Being the children of your popular parents certainly isn't as wonderful as others think.

Your thoughts were interrupted when someone gave you a tap on the shoulder. You turned around, facing the masked man with two glasses of wine in his hands. He looks familiar.

"Want one?" He asked, pushing one of the glasses towards you.

"Thanks." You took the glass with a small smile, not wanting to seem rude, though, you wouldn't drink it, the fear of getting poisoned again made you wary of other people offering you food or drinks. Does he recognize me?

Back then, you were at a party organized by your mother, when one of her friends' daughter offered you a glass of champagne. Not thinking much, you drank it without hesitation, but it tasted weird and bitter. Suddenly, you had the urge to puke, and good thing you did, because it contained some kind of cleaning substance. Your mother noticed you immediately among the crowd and brought you to the hospital before anything worse could happen. Later, you found out she did that out of jealousy. Ever since then, you never ate anything anyone gave you, unless you saw it being prepared.

He tapped you slightly on your arm this time, waking you back to reality.

"Are you okay?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Y-yes." You choked out a forced chuckle.

"Do you remember me? It's Joong." He confessed, seeing the wariness in your eyes.

With that, your eyes widened and you suddenly found yourself hugging him. He wrapped his arms around you too, smiling a little.

"Oh my gosh! It's been so long!" You were ecstatic to meet him again, your college best buddy. You two always hung out back in your univeristy days, whether while studying, or doing club activities, you were always with him, and him too.

He pulled away from the hug, chuckling, tucking the fallen strand of hair from your bun, behind your ear.

"Yes, it has, indeed. We've both been very busy." That's true, after graduating university, you both had to work for your parents' company, not having time to hang out or catch up with each other anymore.

Suddenly, you felt an arm wrap around your waist. Startled, you looked up at the person, then sighed of relief.

Park Seonghwa.

Even with a masquerade mask on, you still recognized him. How would I not recognize the man I love?

"So it was true." Your gaze shifted upon Hongjoong who was smirking, looking at Seonghwa's arms around your waist then back to meet Seonghwa's eyes.

"It is, of course. You thought you had a chance?" Seonghwa's mocking tone with a mix of anger confused you. What the hell are they talking about?

Before you had the chance to ask, your husband took your hand and pulled you to the elevator.

You looked up at him while he's just staring at the elevator's door, eyes sharp, his grip on your wrist like steel.

When the elevator opened, he dragged you to a room, tapping the card on the lock. He didn't even bother to turn on the lights before pinning you against the wall.

"You think you can just flirt with whoever the fuck you want when I'm not around?" His face so close you can feel his breath on your lips.

"I wasn't flirting with him, I was just—" before you could finish your sentence, he buried his face on the crook of your neck and wrapped his hands around you, inhaling your scent then started planting small kisses from your neck to your shoulder blades.

"You're"—kiss—"mine,"—kiss—"you got that?" His stare made you feel butterflies on your stomach. He was so close that you can feel his hot breath hitting your lips, your body starting to feel hot too.

"God, I've been wanting you for so long." He uttered with his deep voice, looking at your lips then back to your eyes. His lips mere inches away from yours.

Fuck.

You couldn't hold back anymore. You crashed your lips to his, moaning at the feeling of his lips against yours. You felt him smile before he started kissing you passionately, like a man starved for days.

His hands started roaming around your body, hands touching every inch of your skin, leaving not an inch untouched. He took a hold of your hips, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist. When you did, he walked over to the bed, gently laying you down with him on top, not breaking the kiss.

He unzipped your dress, pulling it down then throwing it somewhere in the room. Then, he removed his clothes one by one, leaving both of you in your underwear. That's when he broke the kiss to look at you.

"God, you're fucking beautiful, so damn beautiful, like always." He couldn't help but repeat his praises towards you, finally saying the things he failed to tell you before. He knew he wasn't a good husband to you, and you deserved better, which he, will become better for you. He was the one who planned for you to marry him, kneeling in front of his father, asking for permission to marry you. You didn't know the lengths he had to go through in order to get married to you, and he planned to keep it a secret forever. He would never let others have you.

He started kissing you again, moving over to your neck and all over your stomach, then he came face to face with your clothed core.

"May I?" He asked for your permission first. He would never do anything to you if you're not comfortable with it. He respects you above else.

When you gave him a nod, he gave you a kiss on the forehead first before he unclasped your bra and removing it.

He was looking directly at your eyes while removing your panties and crashing his lips to your wet pussy, finally tasting you. You moaned in surprise, feeling the soft pillowy lips of his against your bare core. You felt his tongue lick long stripes from your core to your clit, then he slowly put in a finger inside you. He started slow, gradually incresing in speed.

Your moans were like music to his ears, something he can listen to 24/7. Even the feel of your hands pulling on his hair felt oh so good. Fuck, he could worship your body all day if you'd let him.

He sucked on your clit then added another finger inside you, his other hand busy fondling with your breasts.

"Honey, faster please." You plead breathlessly. He was taken aback by the endearment, but it sure as hell made him harder.

"My pleasure, wife." He smirked against your clit before sucking it harder and fingering you faster.

He felt your pussy tigthen around his fingers, indicating that you're nearing your orgasm. He moved over to your breast, sucking each of them alternately without his finger stopping.

"Fu-fuck, I'm cumming—" your orgasm hits you before you can even finish your sentence.

Slowly removing his finger inside you, he hugged you while you catch your breath, his head on top of yours. That's when he pulled back and looked at you with a suggestive smile.

"Care for another round?"

Feedbacks are highly appreciated!!

[dilf-luvr-4evr]

Counting Down the Days to Being Yours 🕊️💍

for dearest @emerald-ranch <3 I sincerely hope this is according to what you imagined!! 👉🏼👈🏼 I’m sorry it took long! I wanted it to be perfect :( thank you for trusting me with your wonderful idea 🫶🏼🥺 this playlist was in heavy rotation during the writing process!! happy belated valentine’s 🥰

my first proper Arthur fic! (f!Reader, BIG FLUFF where everyone is alive 🤩🙏, possible inaccurate wedding rituals in 1899, church photo just for aesthetic, you can marry wherever you please :) (arthur photo by sealevils on pinterest!)

Arthur had not returned to camp for almost two weeks. It wasn’t anything new to you but usually, he’d at least let you know. Try as you might to shrug it off but you get plagued by the ugliest thoughts. God forbid! You always yelled out-loud before your imagination gets the chance to be spoken into existence.

The days had dragged on for so long that it made you self introspect. You didn’t really know why you should when he left you on very good terms. Very good terms.

Both of you made passionate, burning love the night before he left. And a little bit more upon waking up. You let him sleep in again as you attended to Miss Grimshaw, getting him a plate of stew on your way back. While waiting for him to wake, you even cleaned his guns. He said he loved you multiple times — a kiss accompanying every declaration — before getting on his horse. That is, after Miss Grimshaw had to separate y’all herself.

Impeccable timing and divine intervention; as if he knew you’d fetch him yourself if you had to wait any longer, Arthur finally came back home to you. A far cry from the last you saw him. But again, nothing new. You were just extremely relieved.

Frankly, he looked like shit. Handsome, still. But very dirty. Speckles of mud were all over his face but far more concerning, he was drenched in blood.

Adding to the list of questions you were about to ask, what you saw him untie from his Hungarian half-bred was a giant bison that’s been chopped up. Some of the people in camp that crowded around him cheered, knowing they’ll be fed good tonight.

Still, it was all so odd to you. There was no way it’d take him two weeks just to take down a bison. It would need much more than this bribing to stop you from questioning him as much as you’re glad he’s home.

Even stranger, Arthur was awfully quiet the whole time you helped him bathe by the lake. Not a single I miss you. Didn’t let you touch his grimy clothes though that’s never been a problem before.

“Arthur, are you sure you’re okay?” You asked for the thousandth time.

“I’m just fine darlin’, I promise,” he tightly smiled, still avoiding your eyes. Though this pained and scared you, you’d wait until he’s ready to open up.

He changed again when you shaved him and cut his hair; just as quiet but his eyes never wavered from your focused expression. Like he can’t believe he’s reunited with you, only looking away when you talked to him.

“Darlin’?” He’d ask.

“Yes?”

“N-nothin’,” he mumbled. This went on over and over in the silence of his tent, a contrast to the singing and eating outside. He refused to join them either despite being the star of the show.

After you were finished with cleaning him up, he held on to your hand and made you sit in front of him without a word. You blinked a couple of times yet remained seated on his cot.

“Arthur-”

“Darlin’,” he started again, clammy hands tightening their grip on yours.

“Yes?” You’d say again and again if he asked you to.

“I’m sorry. For scarin’ ya.” And he was instantly forgiven. Not that you could stay mad at him for long. You weren’t even sure you were mad at him in the first place.

“S’okay,” you smiled, your thumb brushing his hand. He smiled with you though it didn’t last very long.

“The bison’s a gift.”

“A gift? From who?”

“That ain’t what I meant,” he huffed. “I meant-” he shifted uncomfortably on the cot. “I meant.. my gift. To you.”

A snort left you before you could control it. “To me?” And why you would ask for a bison or when is beyond you.

“Just hear me out will ya?” He huffed again, cheeks all red. You just nodded, trying your best not to laugh.

With a deep breath, he continued.

“I love you,” he said softly before looking at your hands. He didn’t even let you say it back, just kept talking. “And I’ve been thinkin’.. When I was away..”

“I know I ain’t much of a hunter. And I’m even less of a man. Hell, I’m even worse with words,” he chuckled. “But darlin’..”

He exhaled loudly and you knew. It all made sense now. He’s about to propose to you.

Arthur’s eyes widened and his heart raced at the sight of you gasping and tearing up. He kept holding your hand, strangely finding comfort in what’s currently scaring him. And maybe that’s exactly why he wanted to marry you.

“If you’ll let me.. I’ll try. I- I’ll always keep you fed. And I’ll take us away from here. Far away, I swear. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go. No more runnin’.”

You cried like you never cried before. The way his eyes twinkled when he said it even though you knew how much it scared him. The way he’s willing to chase down a dream to make you smile.

He was looking at you like a puppy, waiting for you to say something before, “shit-” he realized he forgot to pull out the ring.

Like a man possessed, he dropped to the ground, searching for the ring from his blood-stained clothes. Watching him clean it with his shirt made you laugh, pouring more tears out of your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he grinned all flustered, turning back to you.

There he was, already on one knee, a plain gold ring — a symbol of his hard labor you’ve witnessed all too well — humbly offered between his fingers.

Sure you’ve imagined it a couple of times before. How it would happen, if it ever would. You loved him too much to ask him to leave the gang; his family.

But unbeknownst to you, he hears your silent pleas. Sees how you stood by him.

He loved you too much to make you stay.

“Marry me darlin’. Let me give you a proper life. What do you say?”

In a swift breath, you answered, “yes.”

And you’d say it again and again if he asked you to.

“You quittin’ yet?”

You didn’t have to look to know who it was, the voice as familiar as the back of your hand.

You could also tell who it was from that damn joke he’s been telling over and over from the second you said yes.

You sure? Ain’t thinkin’ of backin’ out? Y’know you still got time.

Be it a jest or a genuine query, you know deep in your heart that you’ve never been more sure of anything else in your life.

A scoff left your lips, followed by a roll of your eyes. Yet you smiled.

“You think I should?” you feigned curiosity. Silence. You turned your head to find Arthur leaning on the clothesline post, a contemplating look on his face. Among the fingers that grabbed his belt, the shiny golden ring gleamed in the daylight. “Well?”

A second passes and then, “Nah.. I ain’t lettin’ ya.” Said with that crooked smile of his.

“Then I’m beggin’ you to stop askin’ me!” you laughed, dropping the clothes you were washing in the bucket. Oh how he loved your laugh. He’ll keep asking the dumbest questions known to man if it meant hearing you laugh.

“Arthur, leave the poor girl alone, will ya?” Hosea called out by the horses.

“Just gimme a minute!” Arthur replied before returning his gaze to you. He noticed how Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Karen paid attention to his little interaction with you and that made him a little sheepish. Back to being a teenage boy whenever he’s around you.

“Where you headed?”

“I asked you a question first,” he crossed his arms. The stupid smirk won’t leave his face and neither won’t the glint of mischief in his eyes. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere ‘til you answer me.”

“What question?”

“Are you quittin’?”

“Well do you still wanna marry me or not?” You raised your brow. Blush creeped on his cheeks, making the girls giggle.

“More than anythin’ in the world, ma’am,” he said shyly, his hat now covering his face. You pushed down the twitching on your lips. God, the way he makes you feel.

“Then I ain’t quittin’ the wedding.”

“Good.” He’s lucky he’s got a handsome smile, the bastard. And that he’s got the most patient lady.

“Now where you headed?”

“Just.. Takin’ care of wedding stuff with Hosea,” he was rather mumbling at this point, shying away from the audience.

“‘Kay, be careful,” you chuckled, turning to your laundry again.

There was shuffling and before you know it, he was crouched down next to you.

“Not gonna give your husband a kiss goodbye?” He whispered as if the girls wouldn’t still try to pry. Well. Nine days until your husband. That made you smile a little too wide for your liking. And then kissed him anyway. Silly, stupid man.

Your silly, stupid man.

“Come back to me,” you softened, patting his cheek. His baby blues shone under the shade of his hat. But then again, they always do when they’re looking at you.

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured as he stood up, smiling so wide, he was almost chuckling from how smitten he was.

Now with the golden band snug on the end of your palm, you could say that you quite literally have him wrapped around your finger.

He tipped his hat, bid the other ladies farewell, and went on his way. He had very important matters to attend to.

There are many things Arthur is capable of. Wedding organizing is apparently not one of them.

Yes, he’s used to thinking on his feet. Despite the most complex situations, there’s always an answer to him.

Even if it means occasionally punching his way out.

But he can’t really punch the wedding caterer can he? Or the man who tailored his suit. Or anyone else in the wedding business for that matter.

Good news is he’s finally done. Got himself a priest to officiate the wedding and paid off the new house; a quaint little thing he figured you’d like. He hoped you’d like.

Dutch made him look for a place to wed to which Arthur obliged. Wouldn’t want to expose the current home and put the gang in danger.

So Heartland Overflow it is.

He remembered taking you there, wanting to show you this silver dapple pinto. You ended up falling asleep in the meadow as he scouted for it. He decided to sleep next to you till noon. One of his favorite days. The perfect balance between wind and warmth and you.

The place gave him another idea that went according to plan like dominoes lining up to his luck. He invited Albert Mason who he happened to meet during one of his wedding ventures. Almost got bitten by an alligator in the process but he’ll be damned if he won’t get to capture your smile on the big day.

This wedding ain’t half bad considering. Perfect in fact. More than he could ever expect and the entire time, he kept imagining your reaction to seeing it all unfold. Maybe he was good at wedding organizing after all.

Still. He felt like he’s made more decisions in the past few days than he’s ever made in his entire life.

Being the impatient man that he is, he rode back to camp with a scowl as opposed to Hosea who looked like he enjoyed himself too much. A view you have come to enjoy as of late.

“Someone’s happy,” you teased while you made your way to him. He got off his horse with a scoff, hand immediately snaking around your waist as both of you walked to your shared tent. You didn’t forget to smirk back at Hosea, a silent agreement to share whatever happened to Arthur today. For later.

“Don’t even start,” he grumbled, only stopping to kiss your temple. “Won’t bother if it ain’t for you.”

The statement made you smile. A mental note was made to treat him good tonight. “At least that’s the last of it. Ain’t it?”

“Yep,” the word stretched out mid sigh, a popping-like sound at the end of it. His hold on you tightened, emphasizing his relief as well as excitement to show you everything he’s schemed. The action automatically pulled you closer and you giggled, a melody that never failed to warm his heart. You could convince him that this was all worth it by that single sound alone.

“Found a dress yet?” He asked, mingled with a grunt as he sat on his cot. You leaned on his shoulder, staring into the distance whilst he took off his boots. The sun had just settled below the horizon, coloring the sky purple.

“No,” you exhaled. “I don’t know..”

“Hate to sound like Strauss but you only got three days darlin’.” That elicited a chuckle out of you. And though you’ve kept count, the fact that you’re actually marrying him still made you giddy.

“Startin’ to think you’re gettin’ cold feet.”

“I’m not,” you clicked your tongue, slapping his back and earning a laugh from him. It boggles you how much this running joke entertained him.

“Well for what it’s worth, I’d marry you in anythin’,” he smiled, kissing the top of your head. His arm had returned to rest by your waist. “In rags,” followed by a nuzzle of his nose against your chin. “Darlin, I’d marry you in nothin’.”

“Mister Morgan!” You blushed at the way he whispered it, slapping him again. He was cackling like a damn crow.

“Yes, Mrs. Morgan?” He carried on, making you roll your eyes even when the giggle that left your lips betrayed you. Damn him.

“I’m serious Arthur! I can’t decide on what to wear,” you pouted.

“Alright, alright,” he nodded, chuckling the last of his amusement out as he wrapped both of his arms around you, chin perched cozily on your shoulder. “We can getcha a new dress if you’d like?”

“You know that’s out of the question. We can’t spend more than we already have.”

Arthur heaved a sigh, having to think again.

“Well-” He thought for a moment. “Wear the one I like.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Which one’s the one you like?”

“You know,” he said in this very obvious tone, looking up at you in disbelief. It was obvious from your lack of answer that you didn’t catch on.

Suddenly, he was picturing you in the dress in order to describe it to you. Oh how that white dress made you shine. How it hugged you in all the right places, showed him just enough of what he wanted to see..

It never ends well with you in that dress.

He scoffed, hiding how hot he was for you. His poor bride is fussing and here he was, constantly trying to jump your bones. It was funny because you could always tell from the way he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You know the damn dress, I ain’t gotta tell ya,” he reasoned, getting up from his cot to leave and ignoring your giggly complaints. “I got things to attend to.” Meaning adjusting his pants.

He’s had enough wedding related thinking anyway. Plus, how could you not know?

He sat in front of the mirror. The face he’s bored with looked a little different today, polished.

Just him all alone inside his tent possibly for the last time.

He’s getting married. How strange.

Sure he knows it, took two weeks to contemplate it. Maybe more. But it seems like everyday it keeps dawning on him.

He’s getting married.

The gang left him some time to himself for once, waiting outside with the faint buzzing of gnats and the swishing of Flat Iron Lake.

It’s been a while since he had to properly get ready for something. Used to be a habit of his when he realized he liked you. Until you took over for him. Not that you minded how he looked at all. Felt unreal for him to look back on those days.

There wasn’t a single benefit he got from cleaning up. He doesn’t see himself differently. But he took note of what you loved about him, made sure he looked good enough for you to like. His fingers adjusted the forget-me-nots in his jacket pocket that he picked this morning.

Oh, look at how they bring out the blue in your eyes! You had said when he gave you the same flowers some time ago. Something that stuck with him ever since.

He looked around his cleaned ‘home’. Though he’s never really stayed in the same place for very long, the walls of his tent along with his wagon had been constant. It never actually occurred to him that one day he won’t sleep here again.

Suppose when you first fell asleep in this very cot with him, he sort of knew. He just didn’t think he’d actually get it; a new life with you.

A smile tugged on his lips. Who knew a no-good outlaw like him could be this lucky? How far he’s come. That after everything, he’s actually getting something good.

He tried to not get all soft, turning to the mirror again. But upon seeing his face, he laughed.

“Lucky bastard, ain’t ya?”

And how right he was.

He didn’t realize how much of an understatement that was until the ceremony started and he finally saw you.

You didn’t end up wearing a new dress by any means. Just the one he requested which you decided to alter a bit. At least that’s what you think he requested. But goddamn.

It was like the second time he first saw you.

He was starting to regret his decision to not smoke at all this morning. It ain’t like you never kissed his cigarette-reeked mouth, right? His heart was beating so loud, he barely noticed how you were already stood in front of him. In that dress no less, the sun above you just right. Your eyes looked at no one but him, that very smile to accompany the rest of his days.

The girl of his dreams.

The girl of his dreams who’s suddenly whisper-shouting “Arthur!”

“-can you repeat these vows?” The priest said. Which Arthur realized he had been tuning out.

“Y-yes,” he answered with a clear of his throat, trying not to get distracted by another one of your smiles.

It went smoothly. You actually said I do and kissed him and didn’t run away. Albert took the pictures and everyone liked the food and especially the drinks and Arthur made it till the end without a single cigarette after all. Although he did indulge in some drinking.

Javier was strumming a slow song. The day came and almost went with some still dancing alongside you and your husband.

He had one hand holding your own whilst the other one held on to the small of your back. You laid your head near his heart, partly from exhaustion, mostly from content. The two of you swayed with the gentle breeze that grew with time.

“You regret marryin’ me don’t you? That why you were cryin’?” He joked yet again, recalling to how you cried during your vows.

“I am regretting it now,” you shot him a glare before leaning on him again. You can feel the warm rumbling of his laugh from his chest and it made you smile.

“Did you like the kiss?”

“Of course,” you nodded against him. “I like this too,” with a touch to the flowers in his pocket. “And oh this place.. It’s perfect, Arthur.” And it really was. A wedding straight out of a book and it was yours.

Now he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop smiling. He breathed a sigh of relief so big, it almost lifted your head off his chest. There was no telling who squeezed whose hand first.

“Felt a little.. different though.”

Panic striked through him. So sudden, that he had to pause dancing. “Meanin’?”

“The kiss. You didn’t taste like cigarettes. Not that I mind,” you looked up at him, this lovesick gaze in your eyes. Despite how soft it all was, it was like a slap to his face. This perfect woman is his wife.

“Darlin’..”

“Hm?”

He didn’t even know what he was going to say. He kept looking at you as if checking if this was all real. Being a little drunk did not help. Neither did your distracting lips.

“Do you still like the kiss?” Was what he managed to say.

You laughed and pulled your husband into the millionth kiss that night.

Your husband who now smelled like alcohol instead. Who’s been asking you the same question all night since he drank.

If only you could convince him just how perfect this wedding was. Though not more than he is <3

my masterlist

thank you for reading!! 🫶🏼

[w2soneshots]

Hiya could you do a w2s one shot where reader tends to get anxious in big crowds so like a sidemen party situation, and as a way to indicate that to harry, they either link their pinky with his or brush his hand so he can take them outside for some fresh air for a little while and prevent them getting overwhelmed??

I’ve got you -W2S

words: 1.3k+

warnings: angst, protective harry, talk of anxiety, alcohol consumption, the boys are cuties.

summary: you and Harry go on a night out with the sidemen and the side girls to celebrate you buying a house, though it doesn’t go exactly how you thought it would.

notes: hi! I combined this with another request that’s a little more of him being protective (🤭), hope you don’t mind🫶🏼. Who doesn’t love a bit of angsty comfort, hehe. Enjoy!!🥂✨ (this is also written in second person because I’ve decided -155 fics deep- that I like it more😅)

"Almost ready to go love?" Your long term boyfriend, Harry, asked after popping his head into one of your spare rooms, that you newly converted into your dressing room, the other being his office.

"Yup," You responded with a soft smile, "I'm just gonna pick out some shoes. I'll be two seconds." He nodded before replying, "Oki dokie!" Then he swiftly heading downstairs.

The sound of you coming down the steps filled the house just a few minutes later. "Gosh, we really need to get some more furniture, everything echoes," Harry noted as you joined him in the kitchen.

You'd made the step of moving into your own home together just two weeks ago. Though it felt like no time at all. After spending years living with the two Cals you collectively decided that you were ready and it made sense since you'd been together for so many years.

"Agreed, though we don't really need to rush. Let's make it really... us." You had the basic stuff but no real decoration, meaning it felt a little bit empty.

Tonight you're going out with the usual sidemen group. The girls organised a little 'congrats on buying a house' party -which was kinda just an excuse to meet up and have some fun- and since the sidemen's schedule was so busy you were all only just getting around to it.

You decided to be the designated driver for tonight since you couldn't really be arsed with the whole 'getting leathered' thing, even though the night out was technically for you and Harry. Which meant Harry could drink as much as he'd like, though he wouldn't, because he never did when he was with you... just in case.

"Everything okay?" Harry asked softly as you drove, a concerned expression covering his features as his hand made its way to your thigh. "Hm? Yeah. Just... just a little anxious- and don't ask me why because I don't know," you replied, eyes flickering from him and then back to the road.

"Okay," he replied calmly then turned on the playlist that he made you for your birthday last year. You giggled and any worries floated away, as the music distracted you completely. He always knew what you needed.

Just a few minutes later you arrived outside of the club. You parked the car around back and then walked hand in hand towards the entrance.

"Gosh, it's loud as fuck in here!" You had to push yourself onto your tiptoes and yell into Harry's ear for him to hear you over the booming music. He agreed with a look of annoyance and a firm nod.

"Hi!" Talia shrieked when she spotted you, instantly pulling you into a hug. "You smell incredible," you complemented as you parted. "Simon got me... god, what's it called! I don't know, anyway, a new perfume for my birthday. I love it," she replied before ushering you over to the table, leaving Harry with the boys.

As Faith was showing you the pictures she'd taken of Olive -her face covered in orange pasta sauce- just before she left, Harry came over. "You alright sweetheart?" He asked, already a few beers deep and clearly not bothered about the girls surprised looks over the nickname (that he only uses behind closed doors).

"Yeah, thanks babe," you replied reassuringly. "Okay, I'm just over there if you need me." He pointed to the bar where Simon and Ethan were sat, laughing so hard they were close to spilling the drinks in their hands. You nodded slowly and sat watching as he waited a moment before reluctantly leaving.

"That boy loves you y/n," Faith said into your ear. You couldn't help but smile. He really did, and you loved him just as much.

An hour or two later the groups had merged and were now all sat around the long table, one side a cushioned booth, the other chairs, though the boys sat laughing at one end while the girls listened to Freya's captivating gossip at the other.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom," you whispered to Talia, who sat next to you, you took a sip of your -nonalcoholic- drink before sliding out of the booth. Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend was carefully watching as you weaved through the crowd of sweaty, dancing individuals.

Just before you got to the toilets you felt a hand grab your arm from behind. You turned quickly and your stomach dropped. At first you assumed it was a fan. They'd sometimes get a little too close for comfort when they were drunk. Though you weren't sure this was the case.

A tall-ish man stood in front of you, he had a scraggly beard and smelt like cigarettes. "Hello dear, would you like to come home with me?" He babbled drunkenly, reaching his hand out to touch your waist. "Uh-" before you could form a response or move a loud "excuse me mate!" Was heard behind him before the guy was firmly pushed aside, making him groan as he stumbled into a table.

Your eyes widened in shock, then your heart began to race. The room started to spin and your vision- "hey," Harry's soft, soothing voice filled your ears. You scrambled to grab his pinky finger, something you'd started to subconsciously do whenever you were feeling overwhelmed and needed out of a situation.

He glanced down and then snapped into action "It's okay, I've got you. Let's go get some air." He put his arm around you and lead you outside. All the while the boys were stood around the creep, JJ shouting something inaudible -but definitely not kind- at him.

You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding in when the cool London air hit your skin. Harry waited patiently for you to say something, his hand still on your shoulder.

"Considering you hate confrontation, that was impressive," you finally said. He chuckled, feeling instantly relieved that you seemed alright. "I don't know where it came from. He was a weirdo and when he tried to touch you-" "I know," you interrupted him, voice hushed, "thank you."

Ethan had gotten security and the guy was escorted out. You didn't want some idiot to ruin your fun night out with your friends so you decided to rejoin the group.

"You good?" Tobi asked kindly as you and Harry re-approached the table. You nodded with a smile. Though you were still a little bit shaken up you knew you were fine and Harry's hand -that was gently rubbing circles on your hip- was reassuring you.

The rest of the night was spent laughing and drinking, meaning the prior events were soon forgotten. You and Harry were one of the first to call it a night. You thanked the girls for organising everything and said your goodbyes to the boys.

Harry had always been a heavyweight so he didn't really seem very drunk at all. You both hopped into the car and enjoyed the comfortable silence during the drive home. After being in a loud club, talking to your friends all night, your social batteries were drained.

Within half an hour of getting home you'd both gotten unready, taken quick showers and climbed into bed. You let out a tired sigh as Harry wrapped his arms around you, your head snuggled into his chest.

"I feel we can never just enjoy events. It's like I always ruin everything," you said quietly, opening your mind and telling him your thoughts. He shifted so that he could look at your face.

"You don't ruin anything," he replied surely, "I hate going places without you, I need you with me. It's so normal to be anxious love." His fingers rand up and down your side slowly.

You smiled up at him, tears lining your lash line. "I love you," you whispered -so quietly you weren't sure if he'd even heard- after digging your head into his neck. He placed a kiss to the top of your head. "I love you too."

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 10

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lizzie stepped out of her building and stopped dead in her tracks.

Parked at the curb, looking obnoxiously shiny and way too clean, was a brand-new Range Rover. Like, brand new. As in, it still had that fresh-off-the-lot aura and possibly even the smell.

She took a few steps closer, her eyes wide in disbelief. It was...quite something. The shiny silver paint glittered in the afternoon sun, and the rims looked expensive, too expensive. Like, the kind of expensive that made her cringe a little, wondering just how much money Lando had spent on this.

Lando was leaning against the hood, hands in his pockets, looking way too pleased with himself. He grinned as soon as he saw her. “Morning.”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “Tell me that’s a rental.”

Lando’s grin widened. “It’s not.”

Lizzie felt like banging her head against a wall. Why, oh why, did he have to be so stupidly rich? "You bought it, didn't you?" she asked, her voice a mix of annoyance and disbelief.

Lando opened the passenger door for her, completely unbothered. “You said you needed a four-seater.”

Lizzie looked at him, then at the car, then back at him. “So your solution was to buy a whole Range Rover??”

 “I needed one,” Lando said simply.

Lizzie scoffed, hauling Mara’s travel bag over her shoulder as the Labrador hopped into the backseat. “You did not need one. You just didn’t want to admit you didn’t have a single practical car.”

Lando shrugged, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. "It's a good car. Safe, reliable, plenty of space for Mara."

Lizzie crossed her arms, trying to hold back a sigh. This man was absolutely maddening. "And you couldn't have rented one, like a normal person?"

Lando raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. "Where's the fun in that?" He was clearly enjoying her reaction, the bastard.

Lizzie glanced around the interior as she got in. The thing was so pristine it didn’t even look lived in. “How long have you had this?”

Lando started the engine, the sound of the purring engine filling the air. "Just bought it yesterday."

Lizzie gaped at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

Lando turned to her, smirking. “Yeah? And?”

Lizzie shook her head, unable to stop smiling. “It’s kinda endearing.”

Lando wiggled his eyebrows. “I knew it.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were warm as she settled into the definitely-not-rented passenger seat of Lando’s definitely-bought-on-a-whim Range Rover.

"Besides, now I have a car to chauffeur you and Mara around," Lando said proudly.

Lizzie bit back a laugh. "Oh, so now you're my chauffeur?"

Lando glanced over, grinning. "Who else can say they have a F1 driver as their personal chauffeur?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Very witty."

She settled back into her seat, enjoying the feeling of the luxurious leather against her skin. "So, where to, chauffeur?"

"London," Lando answered easily. "I got us a hotel near Hyde Park. You know, for Mara."

"That was....really thoughtful," she conceded.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Of course it was. I'm thoughtful. I'm thoughtful and rich and handsome." He winked at her.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. "You sure you didn't get the penthouse suite, too?" she asked, only half-joking.

Lando merely shrugged, not even trying to deny it. "Only the best for my girls."

The casual way he said it, referring to her as 'my girls' sent a flurry of warm, fuzzy feelings swirling around in her chest. 

He had indeed gone for the Penthouse. At a hotel that she was pretty sure was fancier than even the ones she got when she was on her usual reading journeys.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" Lizzie said, trying and failing to sound exasperated.

Lando gave her a lopsided smile, clearly enjoying himself. "Yeah, but you like me anyway."

"I love you," she blurted out.

The air in the room suddenly felt charged. Lando’s eyes flicked to her, his expression softening, the smirk gone.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. “You do?” he asked, his voice low and quiet.

Lizzie held his gaze, her heart pounding. "Of course I do," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "You're infuriating, and extravagant, and impossible, but I love you anyway."

Lando's hand closed around hers, and he lifted it, brushing his lips against her knuckles. "Good," he murmured. "Because I love you, too."

Lizzie had faced a lot of nerve-wracking moments in her life.

The first time she had to pitch her book to an editor.

The first time she stood in front of a crowd for a live reading.

The time she accidentally ended up sitting next to a literal royal at a publishing gala and tried very hard to act normal about it.

But somehow, meeting Lando’s best friend felt just as intimidating.

It wasn’t that she thought Max Fewtrell would be mean—Still, she didn’t have much time to overthink it before Lando knocked on the apartment door.

Max opened it a second later, and his eyes barely even landed on her before immediately locking onto Mara—who, because she was the world’s most dramatic dog, was proudly wearing her Ferrari bandana.

Max blinked.

Then he burst out laughing.

“Mate.” His voice was filled with delight. “You were not joking when you said your girlfriend is a Ferrari fan. How is that going for you, McLaren Driver?"

Lando rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Ha ha, very funny," he said, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

Max's gaze shifted to Lizzie, and his laughter subsided into a warm smile. "You must be Lizzie, then? I'm Max Fewtrell. This is already isso much better than I expected,” he said as he closed the door behind them.

Lizzie smiled nervously, trying to ignore the way her palms suddenly felt sweaty. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Max stepped forward, pulling her into a friendly hug. “It’s great to finally meet the woman that’s putting up with Lando's bullshit.”

From the couch, a woman with dark blonde  hair—Pietra, Max’s girlfriend, presumably—laughed. “Oh, this is already fun.”

Lando gave them both a mock glare. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his arm sliding automatically around Lizzie's waist.

Max threw him a smirk. "Don't act like you're not a handful, mate."

Lizzie leaned into Lando's side, feeling a little more at ease. It was somewhat reassuring to know that Lando's friends found his antics just as endearing as she did.

Pietra jumped up from the couch, walking over and pulling Lizzie into a tight hug. "Ignore those two. It's wonderful to meet you! Lando has talked a lot about you."

"Yeah, especially since he finally managed to ask you out," Max said drily.

Lando shot Max a glare, which only made the latter smirk wider.

"Only took him three months." Max added.

But before Lando could change the subject, Lizzie turned to him with a sudden realization.

“Wait,” she said, narrowing her eyes. "That wasn't the first time you were in that cafe?"

Lando stiffened. “Uh—”

Max let out a noise of excitement. “Oh my God, you haven’t told her?”

“Told me what?” Lizzie demanded.

Pietra grinned, leaning forward like this was the best entertainment she’d seen all week.

“Mate, three months,” Max announced, grinning. “He sat in that café for three months just staring at you like some lovesick teenager.”

Lizzie’s jaw dropped.

She turned to Lando. “You did not.”

Lando rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. “I hate you, Max.”

But Max was thrilled. “Oh, he did. He'd go there to buy his aily coffee even when he could have gotten that at the MTC and then he bought overpriced pastries that he pawned off to unsuspecting McLaren Engineers."

Lando shot Max a withering look. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

Max shrugged, completely unapologetic. "What can I say? It was hilarious to watch.”

Lando, red-faced and clearly miserable, mumbled, “I was going to say something. Eventually."

Max snorted. “Not in this century, mate.”

Lizzie bit her lip, trying to fight her grin. She reached out, threading her fingers through Lando’s and squeezing his hand.

“Three months, huh?” she said, looking at him fondly. “You really liked me.”

Lando sighed, resigned to his fate.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I really did.”

[partoffantasy]

Accidental Sleepover (Part 2) - Aaric Graycastle / Cam Tauri

⸻ image credits to artbycassmira & etherealbookart ⸻

summary: reader tries to pretend nothing happened after that night in the archives, but Aaric is determined to keep reminding her of their intimate "study session," pushing her buttons every chance he gets.

pairing: aaric graycastle x fem!reader warnings: fluff word count: 1.7k

Thank you for requesting part 2, anon! I hope you enjoy it 💙

Part 1: Click here

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

Y/N did her best to pretend nothing had happened. Surely dodging one insufferably smug prince would be a simple feat. Easy. Effortless. Except Aaric Graycastle was making it his mission to ensure that was not the case. The moment she stepped into the cafeteria in the morning, still groggy from her sleep (because obviously she hadn’t been able to stop replaying the events  in her mind), she saw him out of the corner of her eyes.

And then—gods help her—she heard him. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite little cuddle partner.” Y/N froze mid-step, fingers tightening around the tray in her hands as she slowly turned towards him. And there he was, sprawled in his usual seat at the corner table, legs stretched out, posture the very picture of ease. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. The bastard was enjoying this way too much.

“Go choke on your porridge, Aaric,” she muttered, dropping into the seat across from Sloane, who raised a single unimpressed brow. Aaric smirked. “Tempting, sweetheart. But I’d rather discuss our rather intimate study session.” Y/N fought the urge to throw her tray at him. He’s doing this to get a rise out of you. Don’t take the bait. Unfortunately, Sloane was taking the bait. Her head tilted slightly, eyes flicking between the two of them. “Study session?” she echoed. “I thought you went to the Archives to—” She cut herself off, then turned fully toward Y/N, lips curling. “Oh. Oh.”

Aaric rested his chin in his palm. “She looked quite peaceful in my arms.” Y/N inhaled sharply through her nose. “Sloane, if you kill him, I will take the fall.” “Tempting,” Sloane muttered, but the way her lips twitched betrayed her amusement. Aaric just grinned, unfazed. “No need for violence. I’m just saying, if Y/N wants to make it a habit, I wouldn’t be opposed. Comfortable bed, warm body, excellent sleeping conditions.”

Y/N gave him a sarcastic smile. “I hope your next mission pairs you with someone who snores.” Aaric’s grin widened. “I hope our next mission pairs us together, so we can see if that night’s chemistry extends beyond studying.” Sloane choked on her drink. Y/N seriously debated stabbing Aaric’s hand with her fork. Instead, she took a steadying breath, grabbed her tray, and stood.

“I’m leaving before I commit a crime.” Aaric hummed. “I’ll see you in the Archives later, then?” She pointedly ignored him, marching away with as much dignity as she could muster, but the sound of his soft chuckle followed her out of the mess hall.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Of course he found her later. Because the gods apparently despised her. She had chosen a new study spot in one of the more isolated areas with big windows overlooking the courtyard, hoping that being here would provide enough distractions to keep her from dwelling on that night. She had barely settled in when a familiar presence loomed behind her.

“You wound me, sweetheart.” Y/N didn’t even look up. “Good.” Aaric slid into the chair beside her, entirely unbothered. “Running away won’t change the fact that we made an excellent sleeping arrangement.” She did look up then, leveling him with her most unimpressed stare. “You say that as if I won’t freeze your ass if you bring it up again.” He grinned. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Y/N exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Aaric. Why are you here?”

He leaned back, tilting his chair again like he always did, exuding that effortless confidence that was both irritating and—gods forbid—unfairly attractive. “Maybe I just enjoy your company.” Her glare didn’t waver, but her stomach flipped. Damn him. Damn him. Aaric smirked, as if he could sense her internal struggle, then tapped her book. “What are we studying today?” Y/N narrowed her eyes. “There is no we.”

He raised a brow. “So you don’t want my help?” “I don’t need your help.” Aaric made a thoughtful noise. “That’s not what you said last night when you—” She kicked him under the table. Aaric winced, but the grin never left his face. He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to that maddeningly smooth tone. “Admit it, you liked it.”

Y/N’s breath caught. Because the worst part was—She had. She liked the warmth of his body. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The feeling of being utterly, completely safe in a way she hadn’t even realized she needed. And that was dangerous. So instead, she shot him a glare and turned back to her book. “Keep talking, and you’ll find yourself waking up alone next time.” Aaric’s grin widened, something almost unreadable flickering in his gaze. “Next time?” Y/N froze. Damn it.

Aaric laughed, low and triumphant, and Y/N promptly smacked her book closed. “I hate you.” “Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.” And with that, Aaric leaned back in his chair, smug as ever, while Y/N fought to pretend she wasn’t already counting the hours until the next time they accidentally ended up in each other’s arms again.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The wind howled through the narrow mountain pass, rattling the wooden beams of the abandoned outpost as the storm raged outside. Rain poured against the shutters with force, and lightning split the sky, momentarily illuminating the dimly lit room. Y/N shivered, rubbing her arms for warmth as she stared at the small pile of kindling in the cold fireplace. "Of all the times to be caught in a storm, it had to be now," she muttered.

Aaric leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching her with an infuriatingly calm expression. "At least we’re not still outside," he pointed out. "I’d say that’s an improvement." She shot him a glare before kneeling to arrange the kindling. "If you’re just going to stand there and be smug, at least make yourself useful and light the damn fire." Aaric smirked but crouched beside her, blowing into the fire pit. A small flame sparked to life, easily catching on the dry wood. Within moments, the fire crackled to life, casting flickering shadows along the aged stone walls.

"Happy?" he drawled. Y/N rolled her eyes. "Ecstatic." The mission had been straightforward: scout the perimeter of the valley, ensure no enemy forces had breached their territory, and return to Basgiath before nightfall. But the storm had rolled in faster than expected, forcing them to take shelter in the ruins of an old outpost. With their dragons hunkered down in the valley below, there was no choice but to wait it out.

Unfortunately, waiting it out meant being trapped. Together. Alone. Y/N sat near the fire, stretching out her legs to absorb the warmth. Aaric sat beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. Too close. Or maybe not close enough. She cursed her own traitorous thoughts. Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. It had been building for weeks, ever since that night in the Archives. Every glance held something more, every brush of fingers sent sparks racing beneath her skin. And Aaric—Aaric knew. He always knew.

"You’re quiet tonight," he mused, voice low and smooth. Y/N shrugged, keeping her gaze on the flames. "Just tired." "Liar." She tensed. "Excuse me?" Aaric shifted, resting an elbow on his knee as he turned to face her fully. "You’re not tired. You’re restless. There’s a difference." Y/N exhaled sharply. "Maybe I just don’t feel like talking." "Or maybe," he murmured, leaning in slightly, "you don’t trust yourself to talk."

Her heart pounded against her ribs. "You’re ridiculous." Aaric chuckled, but there was something darker beneath the amusement, something knowing. "Am I?" His fingers brushed against her wrist, the touch featherlight yet searing. "You feel it, too. Don’t you?" She jerked away as if burned, standing abruptly. "We should take shifts sleeping. Storm or not, we need to stay alert."

Aaric sighed, but he didn’t push. "Fine. You take first watch." She nodded, stepping away from the fire, needing the space. But as the night dragged on, the storm showed no signs of stopping, and exhaustion crept in. Eventually, when her limbs grew too heavy, she gave in, shaking Aaric awake for his turn. He slid into her spot near the fire without complaint. But just as she settled into the makeshift bedroll, another crack of thunder rattled the walls. The wind howled through a broken shutter, sending a cold gust through the room.

Aaric shifted, then sighed. "Come here." Y/N blinked, turning her head toward him. "What?" He held her gaze, steady and unwavering. "You’re shivering. Just come here." Every rational part of her screamed against it. But her body had other ideas. Before she could think too hard, she moved. Aaric lifted an arm, and she hesitated only for a fraction of a second before pressing against his warmth. His arm curled around her, firm but unhurried, and he exhaled softly against her hair.

"Better?" he murmured. Y/N swallowed, her body betraying her as she melted into him. "Shut up." Aaric chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest where her cheek rested. "You’re getting predictable, sweetheart." She ignored him. Or at least, she tried. But every inhale was filled with him, and every shift pressed her closer until there was no space left between them. Her fingers curled into his shirt, and his grip on her waist tightened almost imperceptibly.

The tension between them crackled sharper than the fire. It was unbearable. It was everything. "Aaric," she whispered, not entirely sure what she was about to say. He hummed, but his grip didn’t ease. "Mmh?" Her throat went dry. The storm outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the heat of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing. But she wasn’t ready. Not yet. "Nothing," she murmured, closing her eyes. Aaric exhaled, but didn’t push. He only held her. Steady. Waiting. And gods help her, she knew he wouldn’t have to wait much longer.

[rcvcgers]

hiiii kinda piggybacking off rotten apples, but I love, love, love non!mc fics & I see your requests are open!! I'd love any non!mc one-shot with xavier or zayne :') full of angst but happy ending

hi!! thank you for being my very first request!! i hope you enjoy <3

False Alarm

pairing: xavier x non!mc reader

synopsis: you are xavier's "girl in the chair". what happens when you lose all communication with him during battle?

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: light depictions of violence, angst

author's note: this is my first time writing for xavier! i wrote this really quick too so i'm sorry if it's all busted up. not proofread!

rcvcger's masterlist

“Think you can handle it?” You muse through a microphone on your clear desk. Xavier’s figure floats on the monitor before you. You watch him through security feeds from the old buildings on the outskirts of Linkon.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” his voice is like music to your ears; you can listen to the raspy and calming sounds on repeat and never get tired of it. The ashy haired man looks at his wrist and turns in a circle, head spinning around, trying to find the camera you’re watching him through.

“So close,” you hum, watching as his body turns away from you, “never mind. You’re cold again.”

“Where are you? Give me a hint,” Xavier faces your direction, body stopping. Your face scrunches up as you try to think of a hint in correlation with his environment. After a few seconds, you finally come up with it.

“You’re facing in the right direction, but instead of looking at the lumberyard, think more…administrative.”

“Administrative…” Xavier repeats the word in a hum, nodding, “okay!”

His tiny body moves around the screen. He grows larger and larger the closer he comes to the security camera. You sit in silence as if you’re hiding from him, not wanting to be found.

“Warmer,” you whisper. You can finally make out Xavier’s gentle smile when he looks up. A flash of light strikes across the screen as his sword appears from thin air. You snap your fingers and laugh. “Congrats, you found me.”

“I always do,” his warm voice soothes your anxiety. He quickly climbs up some rubble against the side of the building, standing up on his toes. His big blue eyes and soft smile. Xavier leans in, the security lens fogging up, making your screen fog up as well, as Xavier draws a heart onto the glass.

“Very charming, thank you,” you giggle.

You and Xavier have formed this routine over the course of a year. The two of you started off as one-time partners for a bigger project the Association threw at the UNICORNS. No other data analysts were available to help him so you stepped in.

At first, he was a bit cold. His introverted demeanor had you struggling to fill in the blanks of your conversation. You sat behind the computer screen as he, one of the Association’s best Hunters, followed your instructions through the abandoned building. The mission was a success, of course, all thanks to your instructions and Xavier’s ability to be a badass without even trying.

It was a month later when he asked for your help with a personal project of his. You helped stitch a camera onto his uniform so you can see what he sees, making communication much easier for you when he’s out in the forest or a place that had no cameras for you to look through.

A month after that, you found yourself with a new lunch buddy. Xavier listened quietly as you talked about your day and you listened as he spoke about his missions in very minimal detail. It was still exhilarating to listen to.

Xavier hung around the office when you worked late, always offering to walk you home. He began showing up to your apartment int he morning as well, ready to walk you to the office.

Whenever you worked with him as his “girl in the chair” (his nickname for you), he started a game where he tried to find which security camera you were watching him through. Xavier always wanted to greet you and say hello.

Doing this made him feel like you were there with him while knowing you were miles away tucked into safety at the Association.

It wasn’t long until the two of you began to date.

Your lunches turned into dates and you took work home so Xavier could sleep with his head on your lap while you finished analysis reports and data spreadsheets. Your perfect work attendance was ruined because of him always begging for five more minutes in bed, pulling you back into his chest as he buried his face into the back of your neck.

He wasn’t too happy to find out that you were assigned to other male hunters when he was off-duty. A talk with Jenna and Andrew soon changed that, leading to a much more clear schedule for the both of you.

“Metaflux about thirty yards from you, Xav,” your tone takes a serious turn. You lean forward in your seat, yes fixated on the screens, as you begin to type away.

Data floods your monitors. Information from the Metaflux’s chaotic energy inhabits your screen. Xavier’s body grows smaller as he heads towards the bundle of energy. You watch him from out of the corner of your eye while you shift through the Metaflux’s energy, weeding out its Protocore information.

A Wanderer bursts out of thin air, its animalistic screen crackling from the speakers of your computer. You wince at the sound, chills running down your spine, and watch as Xavier keeps his distance from the monster. You glance at the information on the screen and sigh from relief.

“Information says that it’s a low class Wanderer. It should be an easy fight for you, babe!” Your voice is cheery into the microphone.

“The faster I get this done, the faster I get to go home to you,” Xavier’s words cause you to smile, giggling to yourself.

“And the faster you get it done with, the faster we can home and sleep.” You smile, biting your lip.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me,” you can hear Xavier’s smile through his voice.

Beams of light illuminate your screen. Xavier’s body flings across the screen, his athletics knowing no bounds as he fights against the Wanderer. You watch him, chin propped up on your hand, and sigh, loving how elegantly his moves are. You’re so absorbed in Xavier’s fighting techniques that you don’t notice the flashing red lights on the screen next to you.

“What’s that sound?” Xavier pants, swinging his sword across the Wanderer’s thick skin.

“Hm?” You hum, sitting up. The red lights finally catch your attention and you read the data that zooms across your screen.

Your heart sinks into your chest. Goosebumps litter your skin. A knot forms in your throat, unable to form a sentence. Multiple energy fluctuations appear on the screen and all of them are within running distance from Xavier.

It starts off with one then jumps to five. They close in on Xavier’s location. Your heart pounds inside your chest, clattering against the top of your ribcage. 

“Get out of there…get out of there now!” You yell at the screen.

“Wha—why? What’s going on?” Xavier’s voice is eerily calm despite the sounds of all hell breaking loose in the background. “Take a deep breath!”

“Xavier, please! Get out of there! Five Elite class Wanderers are about to—”

It’s too late. The security feed from your camera shuts off. Your eyes dart to the speakers when you hear a pained groan from Xavier followed by crackling static and white noise. Xavier’s communication devices shut off. The screens in front of you turn black, leaving you in complete and utter darkness.

“Baby?” You breathe out.

No response.

An ugly silence falls between you and the computer.

“Xavier?” You shudder, a single tear rolling down your cheek. You close your eyes and gnaw at the inside of your cheek. “Xavier, come in. Come in…please,” your voice cracks. Nausea sweeps over your body. You want to crawl into your body and hide from the world.

Is he…is he gone? He can’t be dead, right? No. No! That’s ridiculous! Xavier always gets back up! He never backs down from a fight, no matter how hard it is!

How can you live in a world that doesn’t have Xavier in it? It’s not a life worth living.

Your eyes go out of focus and you reach for the phone beside you, clumsily dialing Jenna’s number. A quiet cry escapes your lips when she doesn’t pick up after the first ring. The call is sent to voicemail but you immediately dial her number again.

The clear monitors shake when you push away from the desk, running down the Association’s hallway. Other data analysts watch, murmuring amongst themselves as you head towards the elevator. You step inside and press the button that leads to the building’s garage. The elevator drops and you dial Jenna’s number again when she doesn’t pick up for the second time.

“This better be important,” Jenna groans from her side of the call. You gasp and hug the phone to your face, your tears sticking against your phone screen.

“It’s Xavier! He was on patrol and all of his comms cut off and there’s no camera feed to see him and—”

“Woah! Slow down! What happened?” Jenna interrupts you. You slowly inhale and release a shaky exhale, trying your best to stay composed.

“Five Elite class Wanderers spawned where Xavier is. His feed cut out and…and I can’t contact him.”  You can’t believe the words you’re saying. Jenna’s long silence tells you that she can’t believe it either. “Please,” your voice cracks, sobs overtaking your body, “please we need to go save him. I can send your Hunters the coordinates, I just…I need Xavier.”

“Send the coordinates. We’ll get there as soon as we can. Stay at the building in case he contacts you,” Jenna’s response reignites the flame inside your chest. You wipe away tears but shake your head, flinching at the last sentence.

“No, no, I’m sorry but I’m going,” you say as you exit the elevator. You rush to a nearby car, tapping your I.D. card against the glass. It lights up and beeps, unlocking. You pile inside and end the call before Jenna can object.

The first thing you do is shoot off the coordinates to the other Hunters in the Alpha squad. You set the phone down and start the car, the engine roaring to life. You don’t even buckle your seatbelt as the car lurches out of the garage, slipping into the empty streets.

The golden moon hangs low in the sky. There are no clouds and white specks of light litter the dark sky. You release a guttural scream.

Agony. Frustration. Confusion. Anger. Sadness. Denial.

Every single negative emotion you can think of floods throughout your body like a ravenous tsunami. Your lungs squeeze, unable to get any oxygen inside to feed on. Your blurred vision became another obstacle for you to overcome while you drive.

That morning, you and Xavier decided to stay in bed for an extra ten minutes. He held onto you, face snuggled into the crook of your neck, sleepily peppering slow kisses into your soft skin while you giggled at videos on social media. You occasionally showed him a few, earning a half-chuckle, before he began to lightly snore once again.

The day before that, you and Xavier were at the grocery store, buying items and ingredients for an impromptu dinner date. Xavier saw a video of a couple cooking a beautiful steak dinner together and he wanted to try it out with his one and only girl, you. The meal ended up burning and you two went out for ramen noodles instead.

Linkon’s outskirts comes into your field of sight. You roll the window down, ignoring all of Jenna and Andrew’s calls, trying your best to hear any commotion. You hold in your breath, lungs burning, muscles aching.

The only thing you can hear is the howling screams of the wind, ringing inside your ears.

Your grip tightens against the steering wheel and your knuckles turn white. Anxiety won’t let you go any slower, your foot pushing even further down on the gas pedal as you bust through a chained fence. The windshield cracks.

You gasp and the car wobbles. You regain control and gasp. Trembling fingers turn the wheel as the car slides against loose dirt and gravel.

“I’m almost there, Xavier!” You scream over the restless wind.

You have no fighting skills. You know you don’t. Xavier tried his best to teach you a few self-defense moves but you failed quite miserably, unable to throw him down onto the mat out of fear you’d hurt him. His laugh was so full of joy and his smile was even more warm and welcoming. The corners of his eyes wrinkled when he smiled at you, reassuring that no matter what you do, you’d never be able to hurt him.

You suddenly miss the way he lured you back into bed in the mornings. He always made up some excuse that his head hurt or that he feels sick and needs you to feel for his temperature. You always give into him knowing damn well that it’s a lie, a trick to pull you back down into bed after you’ve already showered and got dressed in your uniform.

Will you not be able to see Xavier’s sleepy smile anymore? Who else will burn pancakes when you’re taking a shower because, for once, you were the one who slept in late?

You slam on the breaks when you reach the abandoned lumberyard. The tires screech against the concrete, the faint smell of burnt rubber filling your nostrils. Without thinking, you jump out of the car, running forward and towards the smoke that floats into the air, hidden behind the building. Your feet carry you around the left side of the building, the same route you instructed your boyfriend to take, and listen as a Wanderer screeches.

You hide behind an egregiously large log. Moss grows along the dark brown bark, bugs crawling in and out from the wood’s old crevices. Peeking over the edge, you watch as a blurred figure fights against the last Wanderer. Your heart palpitates inside your chest, skipping beats from nervousness, almost stopping when you hear the rips Xavier’s sword makes.

It’s burly and ginormous. It is covered in blue scales, its wings a lighter blue and thin, the moonlight seeping through the thin layers. A small figure staggers back and forth, sword slicing through the Wanderer’s wings like butter. You gasp and move out from behind the log.

The Wanderer screams, its breath pushing Xavier’s hair off his forehead and into the air. He yells back at it, releasing his pent up anger and frustration. He charges towards the monster and jumps, beams of light escaping from his hands. He blinds the Wanderer and manages to cling onto its back. He digs his sword inside the Wanderer’s body.

The monster throws his head back and screams, gurgling on its own blood and pain. The creature collapses to the ground, Xavier, staying where he is, making sure that the Wanderer doesn’t get up. He sighs and draws his sword from the Wanderer’s long neck, wiping its blood on itself.

“Xavier!” You yell. The figure hesitates in the swing of his sword, just missing the Wanderer’s body. He turns to face you.

Xavier’s body relaxes. His sword sizzles into sparks, disappearing. You fully move out from behind the log and sprint in his direction, unable to stop your body. He hops down from the Wanderer and walks towards you, slightly limping.

His white Hunter’s uniform is battered and torn. His pale skin pokes out from his chest and side, blood seeping through the white fabric on his right bicep. The sight of him breaks your heart. You run faster, your feet barely on the ground, as you fly towards him.

You collide into his body with an ‘oof’ and wrap your arms around his torso. You bury your face into his chest as agonizing sobs leave your body. Xavier holds the back of your head, desperately clinging to you as much as you cling to him.

“I thought you were dead!” You lament against his chest. His body is steady and calm while yours trembles, ready to crumble from the pressure you felt mere seconds before. Xavier’s heart steadily beats inside his chest. It’s like he didn’t just survive a perilous battle against five Elite Wanderers. You pull away and look up at him, a big frown on your face.

“Dead?” His brows furrow. You snuggled into him, trying your best to literally get under his skin. Even then, it won’t be close enough.

“Yeah,” you sniffle, “your comms and camera went out. What else was I supposed to think?”

Xavier blinks. He thinks back to the beginning of the fight and how the first Wanderer knocked him backwards with its tail. The force from the hit destroyed the camera in one go. When the other Wanderers showed up, his wrist watch shattered into a million little pieces after getting smushed between two bodies.

He sighs and kisses the top of your head. You slowly pull your face away, looking up into his baby blues with a frown and tear stained cheeks.

Xavier brushes loose strands of hair out of your face. He tilts his head to the side, a small smile creeping onto his lips. He gently wipes away your tears, your mascara wiping off on the pad of his thumb.

“My Star…” he whispers, “I’m always going to come back to you. Nothing will stop me from coming back to your side. I love you.”

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Can you do smth w Quinn and like reader in Med school

I really hope I didn't butcher this! I spent some time pouring over some anatomy test keys and student fears, so I hope it tracks well! 🩷

"Baby, can you help me with something?"

You were laying on the floor of Quinn's living room when you yelled for him. You needed to study for an upcoming exam, but the lack of willpower was keeping you from doing anything. You weren't sure he had heard you, but eventually he appeared overhead, smiling at you being so over-dramatic.

"Have you fallen and you can't get up?" He teased, obviously proud of his stupid joke.

"That's not funny! And no, I'm perfectly content where I am, thank you!" You'd stick your tongue out at him before telling him why exactly you had hollered, "Can you quiz me? I've that big anatomy test Friday and I'm stressing about it."

Quinn quickly fell back into his professional way of being, "Oh, of course, sorry. Yeah, I'll help you."

Your arm shot upwards into the air, with a fistful of papers full of potential questions for him to throw at you. It wasn't that you weren't confident that you knew the information, but it never hurt to see just how much -or how little- you knew. For your sake, you hoped you knew as much as you thought you did or waiting till the last minute to crunch was going to be a problem.

"Alright, where do you want me to start?" He asked, shocked by the amount of pages he had to flip through. You had highlighted the correct answers already, so all he had to do was read.

"Doesn't matter, they're all out of order anyway."

Flopping down on the sofa, Quinn shuffled them a few more times for good measure, before getting started. "Am I going to be able to pronounce half of this stuff?"

His question made you laugh, "Hopefully, but I should be able to discern what you mean if I know the answer...that is -- if I know the answer."

"You'll be fine. Okay, what describes the role of a tendon?"

"They attach muscles to bones," you answered confidently. You were thankful he had started off easy enough, though it did little for your confidence, but it was a start nonetheless.

"Correct. Um, name the three subdivisions of human anatomy."

This one was easy, too, but you knew good as any, that the easy ones could still trip you up; over-confidence was a killer. "Gross, microscopic, and developmental."

"Good job, babe. Okay, let me see if I can find something harder."

You let your eyes fall closed as he rummaged through the two dozen or so pages until he found something he thought might give you some trouble.

"Red blood cell production is know as what?"

"Erythropoiesis?"

He chuckled, "I'm glad you had to say that instead of me! But yeah, good job. I'm guessing that wasn't hard, was it?"

"Not really, no, but it's okay. It just feels good to go over them."

For the next fifteen minutes, Quinn rambled off questions and you had been able to answer them all correctly. He hadn't understood why you seemed so unconfident in yourself, but when asked if you wanted him to read more off, you said yes, so as long as he had the time.

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," he joked. "Specific damage to the arcuate fas-cic-ulus would cause this kind of aphasia?"

"Hey, you got it just fine! I thought 'arcuate' would have tripped you up more than 'fasciculus', but um, I think it's conduction aphasia?"

Quinn giggled, "Ding, ding, ding! I think I've found the pages with the stuff I can't pronounce. Well, maybe not this one: this protein of the thin filament blocks myosin binding sites when the muscle is at rest?"

"Um...hm," you pondered. There were two options that came to mind, and you were leading slightly more to one than the other. "Is it tropomyosin?"

He smiled, "It is, good job! I thought I had you there for a second. Alright, name the disorder in which antibodies cause a decrease in the number of active --ah dammit-- ace-tyl-choline receptors at the neuromuscular junction?"

"I think it's myasthenia gravis," you laughed. He was trying his best, and you couldn't blame him for stumbling over those words. He read a lot, but it wasn't medical journals. "One more good one and you can quit."

"Hmmm, alright, what is 'humoral stimulus'?"

"Humoral stimulus is the secretion of hormones in response to changing blood levels of ions."

"That's wild, but yes, you're right. You did great, babe."

There was a sigh from your place on the floor. You back was starting to hurt, but you didn't have the strength to get up. "That wasn't even the tip of the iceberg of the stuff that's going to be on the test, though."

Quinn, sensing your disappointment, even though you didn't get a single question wrong, left his place on the sofa to lay beside you on the floor. "Is there something else that's bothering you? I've never seen you so worried about a test before."

His fingers danced through your hair slowly, propped up on his elbow beside you. Quinn was always so attentive and gentle, something you admired about him in this fast-paced and harsh world.

"I'm just...scared," you finally confessed.

He frowned, "About what?"

"About failing out, not being able to keep up. I don't know if I can keep up with all of the hours. My clinicals have been killing me. And above all else, I'm-- I'm scared of losing you." You'd turn to look at him, tears welling in your eyes having confessed a deep fear that had been gnawing at you since getting your acceptance letter.

"Aw, baby, don't worry about me. I'm not going anywhere."

"You say that, but it feels like I've seen you twice in a month. I lose a lot of time wondering if you're going to meet someone else; someone who's always around when you're free."

Quinn didn't reply immediately. He could tell what you had told him meant a great deal, and that it hadn't been easy to say. He wanted to make sure his reply didn't make light of a very real fear of yours. "You mean the absolute world to me, baby. What you're studying to do is incredible, and more than I could ever imagine of accomplishing. I just play hockey; you're studying to be a doctor! That means so much more! I know your schedule and mine haven't been linking up, but I look forward to the times that we get to spend together, even if that's me stumbling over some crazy medical terms to make sure you're ready for a test. I'll do everything I possibly can --make as much time available for you-- to see that you succeed. And I mean that: all of it, okay?"

"Yeah," you mumbled. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I'm just not-- feeling worth the time."

Quinn's lips found you temple. "I love you, so, so much, Y|N. Even if I can only talk to you for ten minutes, I promise it's the best ten minutes of my day."

"You're just being nice," you confessed.

"I'm telling the truth. I'm not going to let you go because you're working on your career. That would be like you leaving me because we missed the playoffs."

You managed a smile at his silly analogy. He did have a point and you were thankful he was so mature for his age. "Thank you, Quinn, really. And, I love you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, I know one thing: you wouldn't be laughing at my inability to pronounce 'fasciculus'!"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Besotted 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your new neighbour brings intrigue and a bit of danger.

Characters: ex-con!Bucky Barnes

Note: Oh, Mr. Barnes.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s not exactly the promised casserole, but it’s what you can manage. You’re a simple woman. You wish more people appreciated that.  

The shepherd’s pie is much better in your opinion. A hardy full meal. A couple of dinners in a single pan at least. Even if he asks you to join him for dinner. 

Most of your night was spent on the feat. After your shifts, you don’t often have much energy, but you’re committed. You’re finally going to prove Angelique wrong. You’re going to rub it in her face, too. 

You change out of your gravy spattered sweats and change into something cuter. Sexier.

The halter dress doesn’t offer much in the way of coverage or support. Your chest tests the strength of the bodice, your cleavage squished together in the deep vee, and the skirt ends just low enough to hide your panties. 

You cover the pie and slide into a pair of wedged sandals. You use your elbow to open the screen door and push out with your hip, spinning onto the front porch. It’s quiet outside. The sky slowly dims as the streetlights flick on one by one. 

You clomp down the steps dangerously, balancing yourself with the ceramic dish. You bought it just for this very purpose. You want everything to be perfect. 

You have a fresh coat of nail polish on your fingers and toes alike, sparkly and perfectly sealed. You dab on a little lip gloss before you left your side of the duplex and touched up your mascara. Just enough but not too much effort. 

You stop at the bottom of his steps. You stare up at the door. You glance over at the black motorcycle. You saw him ride up on it earlier. He looked even sexier. He had his long hair pulled back, a few strands blown free by the wind, and he wore a pair of dark black sunglasses. He really has the whole dangerous aesthetic down. 

You climb stair by stair and ease open the outer door. You rap on the thicker wood door and wait. You arrange yourself and the pan. The screen door rests against your elbow. 

When the locks twists, you push your shoulders up and chest out. You smile big. He pulls inward and greets you with a grunt and raised brow. His eyes drift back and forth as if looking for something, or someone. 

“Hi, Bucky, remember I promised you a casserole?” You chime. 

He’s in his usual all black attire. Black jeans, black tank, his left arm swathed in tattoos. His silver-streaked hair hangs around his chin and his beard adds to the sharpness of his jawline. His forehead lines deeper as he looks you over. 

His eyes come back to you and flick down. You hold the dish before your chest so his eyes snag first on your cleavage. You see the way they dart in between the two then back to your face. You extend your arms to offer the pan. He reaches to catch the screen door so it doesn’t hit you, stepping closer as he does. He’s made even bigger as the porch is slightly lower than inside the house. 

“It’s a shepherd’s pie. I know it’s not exactly what I promised--” 

“I told ya not to bother, girl,” he grits. 

You bat your eyes and pout. His voice is silky but gritty. You could drown in it as easily as his eyes. 

“It’s no bother,” you insist. “Really. Secret family recipe. I make my own gravy. Oh and I use sweet potato. You get the sweet and the savoury together.” 

He hums darkly and inhales. You watch his chest rise and fall. His cheeks dimple. He reaches for the dish. 

“Be worse to waste your effort,” he utters dully. 

“It was easy,” you assure him and hand it over. “I just know when you’re settling in, there’s so much to be done. I didn’t eat a real meal for two weeks when I got my place.” 

He holds the pan in his hand and looks at your again. His eyes seem to strain as he meets yours. As if fighting not to look somewhere else. 

“Thanks,” he growls. Oof, he’s like those romanticized bad boys in a novella. 

“No problem!” You wiggle. “I really hope you enjoy it.” 

He nods and stands there awkwardly. He sighs again and taps his fingers on the screen door. He clucks before he speaks again. 

“Guess I shouldn’t... just send you off. You went to all this trouble,” he begins. Your heart picks up. Yessssss. “You eat?” 

Your smile can’t get any bigger, “oh not yet, I was cooking but I got a Michelena’s in my freezer--” 

“Wouldn’t be right if you didn’t try some,” he insists, though hesitation plucks in his timbre. 

“Oh, you are too nice, Bucky. I’ll have a little, but I made it for you.” 

“Mm,” he goes to back up and you shuffle forward. He stops again. 

“Wait out here,” he commands. 

Yes, daddy, you nearly blurt out, even if you are disappointed not to be let in. 

“I’ll bring it out to you. Place is... unpacked.” 

“Right, okay, I’ll be here. Waiting,” you twirl away and flutter over to the small table against the siding. You watched him set it up the other day. With two matching chairs. It’s that discount set you saw outside the hardware store. 

You sit and put your elbows on the table. Then you make yourself sit up. You look down and fix your tits in the dress. The dress keeps riding up as your chest is heavy enough to bunch up the fabric under it. The cut of the bodice ends a bit short of your actual proportions. 

Angelique, you bitch. She has those perfect, high c-cups. She can wear anything without a bra and no one really knows, unless it’s cold. But you, it’s oh so obvious, not that you mind at the moment. Still, it kills the back. 

You cross one leg over the other as the screen door whines on its hinges. Bucky comes around and places two plates on the small table. He shuffles the cutlery in his hands and offers you a fork and knife. He approaches the other chair, a short pause before he sits. 

He’s quiet. That’s okay. Your job is mostly talking. You can be a real yapper when you want to be. You thank him as you hover the fork and knife on either side of the plate. 

“Nice night,” you say. 

He slices through the layers of beef and potato, scooping up the veg with it. He shrugs. 

“The oven heated up my place so much though, I’ll have to keep the windows open,” you press the tines into the top layer of potato. “I wish I had AC, it gets so hot.” 

He looks at you to show he’s listening but still has no response as he chews. You don’t mind a bit of silence. It’s kind of like a sexy mystery. You just have to solve his riddle. 

“Oh, I had a question. About your bike.” You brighten up, jolting so your chest bounces with you. His eyes sink for a split second. 

“Are you going to try it?” He gestures with his fork. 

“Oh, uh, of course.” You stop and scoop up some pie. You smile then lean in to slide it into your mouth. You drag your lips down the fork as you stare at him. Your chest is as good as one the table. “Mmmm.” 

You quickly swallow and run your tongue over your teeth, “about your bike.” 

“The motorcycle?” He rasps. 

“Sure, um, well, you know, I’ve been saving up for a car but I was thinking a bike might be cooler. Faster. I looked up some lessons but thought you might know some stuff too.” You twirl your fork in your fingers. 

“Dangerous,” he says. “And you can’t drive around in dresses.” 

You look down and lean back. You giggle, “do you like it? It’s new. I got it on sale.” 

He sounds like he’s choking as he swallows. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, “pretty colour.” 

“You think? I don’t know. I was looking at the purple one too.” 

“Wouldn’t know the difference,” he mutters. 

“Well...” you grin at him and lean forward. “I like your necklace.” 

He brings his hand up to his neck, “dog tags.” 

“Oh, you’re a soldier? Or, were? A veteran?” 

“Was,” he answers curtly and takes another bite. You have more as well, feeling a bit awkward. 

“So how about it? I could pay for lessons, I don’t mind. Or... maybe other things. Make ya more dinners?” 

“Dunno. Got work,” he says. 

“Right, me too. What do you do?” You ask. 

His cheek ticks, “nothing exciting.” 

“Ah, me neither. I work at this call center in the bank. Sit in the basement and try to sell credit cards. Pays pretty good though and you get commission if you sell a diamond.” You explain, “boring, I know.” 

“Gotta start somewhere,” he remarks. 

“Yeah, I guess,” you agree. “So, are you from around here?” 

“I’m here now. Doesn’t matter,” he answers. He’s stubborn, you’ll give him that. 

You watch his hands. His knuckles are tattooed with little wolf heads. His fingers are deft and thick. You think about them doing other things.

“I grew up here. Not in this house but in this town. I guess it’s alright.” You preen and fix your dress. He’s looking again. “But I only really got friends from around here too. I love learning about new people. New places.” 

His plate is clear already. You don’t realise until that moment how quick he was eating. Almost mechanically. 

“You gonna finish that?” He asks. “You girls peck like birds.” 

You giggle again, “that’s funny. My mom always said I chatter like one. Called me Chickadee when she got annoyed, which was like always.” 

“Mm,” he drones. 

“I’ll finish,” you push your fork into the pie, “like a good girl.” 

His eyes flash. You got him. He shifts and puts down his cutlery. He sits back and crosses his arms. His knees are set wide as he heaves another deep breath. 

You suck another bite off the fork. You lick your lips. You set down your knife on the rim of the plate and touch your chest, just below your throat. 

“I’m so sorry, could I get something to drink? Please?” 

He twitches, “shoulda offered before.” 

He gets up. You smile, “thanks, Bucky.” 

He gets up and takes his empty plate. He walks past you with a gristly breath. You catch how he tugs at the loop of his belt, adjusting his pants just slightly. You’re not trying to be too into yourself but you think you know why. 

You continue to eat. The pie turned out pretty good. And you are starving. He returns with a tall glass of water for you, a beer for himself. He doesn’t sit. 

“Thank you so much,” you smile and reach for the glass. You rinse out your mouth and watch him as he puts his back to you and looks out at the lawn. “Did you like it?” 

“Hm?” He turns his head so you can see his profile in the streetlight’s glow. 

“The pie?” 

“Oh, yeah, good cooking. Been a while.” 

You smile. You’re proud of that. You’re no Gordon Ramsay, you can cook simple things, but they do the trick. 

You finish as he watches the neighbourhood. A few passerbys have his posture changing. You set the cutlery neatly on the plate and stand. You come up next to him and put your hands on the rail. You sense him flinch. 

“I hate this humidity, makes me so sticky,” you fan yourself. He must be dying in those jeans. 

He grunts but offers no other reply. 

“I like your tattoos. I was thinking of getting one,” you turn to look at him, keeping one hand on the rail, as the other frames your hip. “Maybe like a little heart?” 

“Mm, if you want to. Just ink.” 

“Sure. Do you have any recommendations for an artist? I don’t even know where to start.” You giggle again. 

“Didn’t get any here. Make sure you don’t cheap out,” he shrugs and tucks his thumbs into his jeans pockets. He won’t look at you. 

You search for something else. Anything. 

“Dinner was good. Thanks. I don’t wanna keep you,” he gets there first. Fuck. 

“Oh, I don’t mind.” 

“Got an early morning,” he sniffs. 

“Alright, uh, sure. I’ll see ya around?” He nods. You try not to show your disappointment. You tremble then squeeze his arm, “I like talking to you, neighbour.” 

You drag your touch down his forearm then turn away. You sway your hips as you head for the stairs. You get to the top and look over at him, “good night, Bucky.” 

“Night,” he growls. 

You take the first step down but on the second, your wedge sandal slips off and bounces down the steps. You trip and find yourself stumbling forward. It all happens so fast, you yelp as you find yourself just a few inches off the ground, staring down at your fate but not meeting it. 

Bucky has you by your arms. He holds you almost horizontal as your feet remain on the third step. He pulls you up to your feet and you lean back against him with a gasp. You feel him tense. 

“Oh my, I’m so clumsy,” you fan yourself. “Bucky, you saved me.” 

His fingers curl into your bare arms before he lets go. He steps around you and stomps down to grab your shoe. You tug at the top of your dress as he looks up, your left boob is almost out. Your cup it and guide it beneath the fabric. 

His throat bobs as he stares up at you. He puts the shoe flat at the bottom of the stairs. He doesn’t say a word as he offers his hand. You take it and hobble down in your single wedge. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” you step into your shoe at the bottom and cling to him, “you’re such a gentleman.” 

He shudders and gently wiggles his hand free, “get outta here, girl.” 

He backs away and turns to take the stairs two at a time. You grimace at his suddenness. You turn as the door swings shut behind him and the inside one closes in quick succession. Your plate and the drinks are still on the table. 

You’re only disappointed your night was cut short. You let the agitation slake away and sighs. You laugh to yourself and slowly strut away. Oh, you did something. 

[glittter-vamp]

One Size Fits…Most

Joe Burrow x Plus Size Latina OC.

Warnings: Angsty. Mention of characters size. Body image issues. Mention of alcohol. Mention of cheating. If this sucked, my bad it’s been a minute since I’ve written & I decided to do something different than my usual work. (Proof read…kinda)

Looking in the mirror one last time Marisol made her way out of the hotel room and to the elevator. Her heels clicking as she walked through the lobby, feeling the eyes of strangers on her. "There she is, woah you look great." Mandy her old college roommate smiled as she waited in the southern heat for the car taking them to the wedding venue. "Thank you, you look great too. Green has always been your color." Marisol smiles as she hugs her old roommate hello. "And silk has always been amazing on you!" She smiles looking at her silk colorful dress. "I almost wore black but this Louisiana sun is not for that." Marisol chuckled. "Hell no it's not." Mandy agrees.

The car taking them both to the venue arrives and they get into the cool vehicle, immediately relieved of the hot humid air from outside. Greeting the nice female driver, the two of them mostly sit in silence on the way over there until Mandy speaks up again. "You think we're going to be the only ones without dates?" Mandy asks looking out of the window making you chuckle. "Nah, Jade told me Natasha called off her engagement."

"What!? Her and Andrew were together since freshman year of college? What happened there?" Mandy asks in shock. "She caught him on Grindr..." Marisol mutters and Mandy gasps. "Oh poor Tasha..." She pouts.

Arriving at the venue a few minutes later, you two already see a few familiar faces. "This going to be like a LSU college reunion isn't it?" Mandy sighs as we pick up a glass of champagne. "Unfortunately." Marisol lets out a sigh of annoyance. "Is...you know who invited?" Mandy asks. "Don't have a clue, Jade didn't mention him at all so I don't think so." She responds as her eyes skim the crowd of people, feeling more and more at ease as the person she's looking for never comes into her view. The wedding is starting in about 5 minutes so, she was sure everyone that was coming to the wedding, was simply already there.

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

Cheers erupted as the couple kissed and walked down the aisle hand in hand. Everyone around was sweating in this heat and were probably happy for the couple as much as they were happy to get out of the direct sunlight. While the happy couple made their way to family to take pictures we all walked over to the big white tents to cool off and grab some waters or fruity little drink. I'm going to run to the bathroom really quick, would you get me that dragon berry drink on the menu?" Mandy asks Marisol and she nods. Heading over to the open bar, Marisol asks the bartender for the drink Mandy wanted and ordered herself a spiked lemonade to help with the heat a little.

"Marisol?" She hears a familiar voice behind her, she turns to see none other than Ja'Marr Chase. "Oh, hey! Wow long time no see!" Marisol gives him a friendly hug. "How you doing? I see you traveling all over the world on instagram." Ja'Marr smiles. "I've been good and just working and traveling." Marisol nods. The bartender hands her over both drinks and she thanks him setting them in front of her. "I thought your days of crazy drinking would be over after LSU." Ja'Marr jokes seeing both drinks. Marisol chuckles shaking her head. "They are, one of them is for Mandy." She informs him. "Mandy's here? And to think Justin almost came." Ja'Marr mutters. "He didn't because of her, Jade told me." Marisol responds and Ja'Marr nods understanding.

"Well I gotta say, I'm surprised you're here then." Ja'Marr says and Marisol gives him confused look before she notices exactly who he was talking about. The man that broke her heart all those years ago, the big shot quarterback of LSU and the Bengals...Joe Burrow. "Ja'Marr!? Hey!" Mandy approaches us, greeting Ja'Marr as Marisol tries her best to remain calm. She practically chugged down the lemonade she ordered.

Marisol didn't think she would see Joe here. She thought he would be too busy with his lavish lifestyle or felt too important to be here at an old college friends wedding in New Orleans. But, there he was. In a expensive pastel blue tux that brought out his eyes in a breath taking way.

Ja'Marr excuses himself before going over to Joe. Marisol immediately turns around and orders another drink, something stronger. "I saw him leaving the bathroom, I tried getting to you before you saw him but then you were talking to Ja'Marr." Mandy grimaces as she sips her drink and looks at Marisol. "Do you know where we're siting?" She asks Mandy. "The table chart is over there, you think Jade would sit us all together?" Mandy asks. "I mean, it would make sense to sit people who know each other together." Marisol responds as she watches the bartender make her drink.

After getting her drink, she makes her way to the table chart written in script and in chalk. Looking at all the table numbers and names. Marisol finds her name under table eleven, she see's Mandy's name, a few familiar names, Ja'Marr and there it was...Joe's. "Damn it." Marisol mutters. The last thing she wanted to do was to be seated at the same table for the next 5 or 6 hours as Joe. "You're going to need a lot more liquor huh?" Mandy sighs looking at what Marisol was looking at. "Just don't let me get too drunk." Marisol looks over at her.

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

The DJ they had at the reception made the announcement for everyone to take their seats for the grand entrance of the newlyweds. It just so happened that Marisol and Joe were seated directly in front of each other. As if this night couldn't get any worse for Marisol. "You think anyone would notice if I just...left?" Marisol asked Mandy, making her roll her eyes. "Yes! You'll be fine just focus on everyone else here. Plus...that guy over there keeps looking at you." Mandy looks over to a handsome guy in a tux, one of the groomsmen. "He looks very young."

"So? He's at least over 21 because he's drinking. Have some fun and don't worry about someone from your past." Mandy says to Marisol. Maybe she was right Marisol thought. Just as she grabbed her champagne glass, Joe sat in front of her again. Making stomach turn a bit. She hated the way he made her feel, almost sick.

Joe made eye contact with her, Marisol making sure she was giving him the stink eye. Joe clearly understanding the message and giving her a look full of sorrow. The DJ announce's the newlyweds and everyone's attention flips to them, clapping and smiling.

Dinner begins to get served, Marisol looking everywhere else but right in front of her. The first course of her dinner was good, they brought out the salad she had picked but the second plate wasn't correct. They brought our salmon but she was allergic to it. Before she speak up another voice does.

 

"Excuse me, but she can't eat that. She allergic." Joe says from across the table to the man serving the food. Mandy and Ja'Marr looking over at the both of them, Marisol sitting there in a sort of shock before she clears her throat and tells the server herself.

The server looks at them oddly with a bit of confusion but takes back the plate and apologizes. Marisol looks over at Joe but doesn't say anything. She was surprised he even remembered that about her. The time she ate salmon at some football banquet he invited her too and she broke out in hives right after. They spent the rest of the night in the E.R while she got treated for it.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the server came back with the chicken she had requested instead on the invitation. "My apologies Miss, it seems that I got confused with the seating. I can assure you there's no cross contamination with the food" The man says to her. Marisol just thanks him and begins to eat her food, which she barely finished because she didn't even have appetite to begin with. She still couldn't get over the fact she had to endure a night of Joe. 

The speeches start to begin from the parents of the newlyweds to their siblings to the maid of honor and best man. After the speeches, the first dance began and then the partying started to happen. Marisol quickly made her way over to get another drink. As she ordered herself an old fashion, from the corner of her eye she saw Joe stand next to her. Rolling her eyes and clenching her jaw she did her best to ignore him. 

"You shouldn't be mixing different types of liquor like that." Joe says to Marisol, the sound of his voice almost causing her to step on his foot with her stiletto heel. Instead, she just ignores him. "You're just going to ignore me all night?" He scoffs; Marisol still doesn't say a word back as she waits for her drink. "You need to let what happened go." Joe shakes his head in disbelief that she would still hold this grudge against him. "And you need to stop talking to me, guess we're both not getting what we want." Marisol rolls her eyes as her blood was starting to boil with anger. The audacity Joe had right now was mind boggling to her. The way he dared to even speak to her right now and then proceed to tell her that she needs to let things go. 

"Mare-" Joe starts. "No! Don't you dare call me that." Marisol snaps at him before the bartender comes back with the drink where she thanks him and walks away from Joe. Only for him to follow her. "Look, let's just talk this out." Joe says stopping her in her tracks as the lights dim and the music somehow grows louder. "I have nothing to talk to you about Joe. You made it very clear 4 years ago that a girl like me didn't fit your little superstar quarterback life." Marisol snapped at him, Joe rolled his eyes. "It was more complicated than that Marisol, you know that." He snapped back. "Joe, you brought up the idea to me to have a fake girlfriend that better fit your public lifestyle." Marisol said back to him, anger boiling in her. 

"It wasn't me, it was my publicist and some people from the team at the time." Joe tries to defend himself. "I don't care who it was Joe...you were the one all for it.” Marisol rolls her eyes. “It was a tough time okay, I was still figuring things out.”

“You seemed pretty damn happy after we ended things. Right off the bat you were with a Victoria secret model.” Marisol scoffs. “She was never a Victoria Secret model” Joe scoffs back which annoyed Marisol even more that he chose to focus on that part of things.

“Look, you need to grow up & get over what happened. We had a stupid fling in college and that was it. You seriously thought we were going to have a happy ending? We’re from two different worlds.” Joe said thinking that was going help, Marisol’s heart feeling like it was breaking once again. She loved Joe back then, she was there for him during the tough times at LSU. When the other players weren’t taking him seriously. When he was having a hard time balancing school work and football. When he ran out of money to eat, she would even share proper meals with him so he didn’t have to rely on ramen until his parents gave him his monthly allowance and he could go grocery shopping again.

“You don’t need to remind me that you just used me. I know that’s exactly what you did. Used me for your benefit, emotionally and physically…but I will never act like that was okay. You lead me on. I won’t apologize for not being this thin and perfect girl that the beloved quarterback gets.” Marisol tells Joe trying her very hardest not to get emotional over a guy she swore she left in the past.

“We wouldn’t have worked.” Joe responds, mostly seeming like he was trying to convince himself. “You can tell yourself that, it won’t change what happened and how I feel now. If having a woman that the world deems physically conventionally attractive is more important than what we had, that’s on you. But don’t act like you weren’t at my door almost every night trying to get a piece of me. Or begging me to come over to do that thing you liked. At the end of the day you will always be the coward that couldn’t handle the “fat girl” & the star quarterback who still can’t get a ring.” Marisol smirks leaving Joe standing there with his jaw clenched and nose flaring.

Marisol stands tall as she walked away from Joe. Hips swaying because she knows no matter her size she’s beautiful & deserves the best. She walks over to Mandy in the crowd of people dancing. “Where were you?!” She yells over the loud music. “Getting a drink, now where’s that cute guy that was staring at me earlier?” Marisol asks and Mandy gives her a smirk.

—————————————————————-

Part Two? 👀

[gf2bellamy]

hello!!! just wanted to tell you that i absolutely love your fics and they really make my day <3

i was wondering if i could request a fic where bau!reader is kind of a geek about maybe doctor who but they really dont talk about it until they hear penelope and spencer talking about and she goes full on reid rant and spencer kind of just lights up bc hes never seen her so excited about something before

hopefully this isnt too niche 😣😣😣😣

but i would love to see what you would do!!!

-🦔

doctor — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: nothing a/n: hi hi !! thank you so much <3 i barely know anything about doctor who so i apologize if something is wrong ( google is such a life saver ) 😭 pls lmk so i can fix it but tysm for your request !! <33 hope you enjoy this

You clutched the report tightly to your chest as you made your way down the hall toward Garcia’s office. The case file you’d been working on was missing a crucial piece of information, and Garcia was the only one who could fill in the gaps.

As you approached her brightly decorated door, you noticed it was slightly open, and the sound of a conversation spilled into the hallway.

You recognized the voices immediately. You paused for a moment, not wanting to interrupt, but then you caught a snippet of their conversation that made your heart skip a beat.

“But you have to admit,” Spencer was saying, his voice tinged with excitement, “the way the Doctor handles paradoxes is scientifically fascinating. I mean, the concept of a fixed point in time versus a mutable one—it’s not entirely implausible, given theoretical physics.”

“Oh, please,” Garcia shot back, laughing. “It’s a TV show, Boy Wonder. Don’t go all ‘Reid’ on me and ruin the magic with your big brain.”

Your lips curled into a smile as you leaned against the doorframe, listening.

Doctor Who.

They were talking about Doctor Who. It was your favorite show, something you’d loved for years but rarely brought up at work.

You couldn’t help yourself. “Fixed points in time are one thing,” you chimed in, stepping into the room, “but what about the ethics of the Doctor’s non-interference policy? I mean, how many times has he broken his own rules to save someone? And don’t even get me started on the Time War.”

Both Garcia and Spencer turned to look at you, their eyes wide with surprise. Garcia’s mouth dropped open in delight, while Spencer’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

You felt a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks, but you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out.

“I mean, the Doctor’s whole thing is about compassion and saving people, right? But then you’ve got moments like in ‘The Waters of Mars,’. It’s such a fascinating contradiction.”

Spencer stared at you, his expression a mix of awe and admiration. “You… you watch Doctor Who?” he asked, his voice soft.

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious.“Yeah. I’ve been a fan for years. It’s kind of my thing.”

Garcia clapped her hands together, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh, this is perfect! Reid finally has someone who can keep up with his sci-fi rants. I mean, I love the show, but I’m more about the drama and the cute companions. You two can geek out over the sciencey stuff.”

Spencer’s eyes never left yours, and you could see the spark of excitement in them. “Do you… do you want to talk about it sometime?” he asked hesitantly, as if he were afraid you’d say no. “I mean, if you’re not busy. I’d love to hear your thoughts on the newer seasons. I know some fans have mixed feelings about them.”

You felt your heart flutter at the earnestness in his voice. Spencer Reid, the man you’d secretly admired for so long, was asking you to talk about Doctor Who. It was almost too good to be true.

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling. “But fair warning, I might get a little carried away. Once I start talking about the Doctor, it’s hard to stop.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a shy smile, and you noticed the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks. “I don’t mind,” he said softly. “I like hearing you talk about something you’re passionate about. It’s… nice.”

The room seemed to grow quieter.

Garcia cleared her throat dramatically. “Well, as much as I’d love to stick around and watch this adorable nerd-fest unfold, I’ve got some data to hack. You two kids have fun.”

She winked at you before turning back to her computer, leaving you and Spencer standing there, looking at each other.

You glanced down at the report in your hands, suddenly remembering why you’d come to Garcia’s office in the first place.

“Oh, right,” you said, holding up the file. “I actually came here for your help, Garcia. I’m missing some information for this case.”

Garcia waved a hand dismissively. “Consider it done, sweetcheeks. But seriously, you two should go grab a coffee or something. Talk about timey-wimey stuff. I’m sure Reid has a lot of opinions he’s dying to share.”

Spencer chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “I, uh, wouldn’t want to impose,” he said, glancing at you. “But if you’re free…”

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. “I’d like that. Maybe after work?”

“It’s a date,” Spencer said, then immediately looked like he wanted to take the words back. “I mean, not a date-date. Unless you—I mean, it could be, if you wanted—”

You laughed, cutting off his rambling. “A date sounds perfect,” you said, smiling warmly at him.

[chenlezip]

──★ ˙☕️ !! an annoying customer | a na jaemin smau .

PART 8 : the tweet

annas note : what a bittersweet ending to this smau.. this was actually so much fun to do. a little hard at times but we overcame it. thank you to everyone who had read this smau, i hope you enjoyed. maybe.. bonus chapters will be a thing? :3 sorry the ending was a little shit tho :( i didn’t know how to write it !! pls look forward to seeing my other smau - video game lover - when i actually get everything written out for it . also sorry for being so dead recently lolol but i hope to be more active. love you all 🤍🤍

prev | masterlist

after the sweet date that jaemin took you on a couple months ago, you both got closer and.. he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. he couldn’t be happier and neither could you- you felt true happiness that you haven’t felt before in a relationship. he treat you so sweetly and always was there for you no matter what - looking after you in the cafe when everything got a little busy, helping with studies if you were behind. vice versa, you were always there for him as well, listening to his never ending rants about his friends (mainly jeno which didn’t surprise you).

he sends you gifts on your anniversaries — whether it be big or small, you always appreciated it. whenever you both studied together, he’d end up paying more attention to you and you’d have to slap his shoulder to get him to concentrate. “what? i just like looking at you.”

you both were sitting on the couch, cuddled up and watching a romantic movie. you started chuckling to yourself quietly and jaemin leaned over, “what’s so funny, angel?” you smile and look up to him, “just thinking, if i never made that tweet about you and karina didn’t show you it, i wonder how different things would be right now?”

jaemin hummed in response, “i never thought of that but yeah, i suppose if karina didn’t show me it.. but even then, i would’ve still fallen for you.” you laugh and nudge his side, “oh really now?”

he moved so he was hovering over you, “really. i would’ve kept showing up to the cafe, 5 minutes before you close everytime, giving you hinting looks that i’m interested in you.. staying longer than i need to..” you roll your eyes, “god, you would’ve been more annoying to me but you’re a pretty handsome guy so i wouldn’t mind it i guess..”

“we’ll have to thank karina, won’t we? we wouldn’t be here like this, in a relationship.. if it weren’t for her, huh?” and you nod, agreeing with him. “no seriously, let’s send her a thank you gift hm?” you joke. “well, i’d like to give you a thank you gift for letting me kiss you and take you on a date.” jaemin smirked as he quickly scooped you up in his arms, making you squeak and let out a giggle, “what’re you doing?!”

“taking this somewhere better,” he smiled as he started to carry you toward the bedroom you both shared after you moved in a month ago. you couldn’t be any happier.

taglist : @jeonghansshitester @kukkurookkoo @cigsaftersuh @polarisjisung @injvns @kaosuni @sibwol @n0hyuck @ayukas @phototypee @hyckvr @swee7dream @haechology @holyhaech @blondemrk @222low @njmluvr @urlocalbeaner5 @serenedreamscape

[swtt4hk]

You and I || Cho Sangwoo x fem!Reader (Fluff) [enemies to lovers] PART ONE

author’s note: this was inspired by a story I made with this character on c.ai…enjoy!

You recently got a job at a fish market to get some extra money since you don’t get paid enough from your first job. You worked for a lady called mrs Hye-jin who was really nice to you and absolutely adored you. Even if the job was not a nice one , mrs Hye-jin made it more enjoyable with her jokes and cheerful personality.

Her son , on the other side , is the absolute opposite. He is cold and often rude , especially with you. He finds your kind and cheerful personality annoying and always makes sure for you to know it how much he despises you.

You despise him too. You hate his cold gaze and how he never smiles. It pisses you off whenever he insults you but you’ve both gotten used to the bickering , it has become a routine.

Today you’re arguing because you tripped and accidentally spilled coffee all over his shirt. Even though his mom said that it’s okay because she has an extra shirt for Sang-woo at the back of the store , Sang-woo got irritated by your clumsiness.

—are you serious? This shirt was expensive and you ruined it because you don’t look where you’re going!

—I’ve already apologised a hundred times , why don’t you just forgive me and move on?! Besides , you make enough money to buy a new one and your mom will give you a new one , it’s not like you’ll go outside with the coffee stain on your shirt!

—but it’s still ruined , thanks to you! And I’m NOT spending my money on a new shirt , I’ve got other things to pay for. You should buy me a new one or at least give me the money to buy a new one!

—what?! Where’d I find the money to buy you a new one?! What am I an ATM?!

—I don’t see how that’s MY problem…

He says and walks away. You’re trying your best not to start screaming or start throwing things at him. His mom on the other side is loving the banter between you two. She always tells you that there’s definitely something behind it and that arguing is a way of bonding with someone and that it will turn into love and affection. You and Sang-woo get pissed off when she says that it will turn into love and affection. Whenever she says that , Sang-woo gets pissed off and tells her to stop and you’re gently trying to explain to her that you and her son will never be together. The only thing you feel about each other is hate. Nothing else.

Later that day , you’re in the storage room organising some stuff and you accidentally overhear a conversation between Sang-woo and mrs Hye-jin…

—come on , Sang-woo , just give the girl a chance! She’s kind , smart and positive , what else would you want?

—mom , you don’t understand. I don’t want to give this girl a chance! I find this “kindness” thing fake and her cheerful personality? Ugh it’s so annoying , she’s acting like everything’s sparkles and rainbows. Not to mention her clumsiness…she doesn’t even watch where she goes , how could I go on a date with her? She’ll embarrass me.

—what are you talking about , son?! Is that how I raised you?! Y/n is genetically a kind girl and maybe her cheerful personality would help you enjoy life more. As for her clumsiness, it was just one time , don’t make a big deal out of nothing. Give her a chance!

—no!

—please , son , all I’m asking for is to take her out one time! You never know what your relationship turn into!

—mom , I don’t wanna take her on a date and I believe neither does she want to go out with me , so it’s a no. Conversation over.

Sang-woo walks out of the store and his mom follows him outside , still trying to convince him to take you out. You chuckle behind the door. It reminds you of a mom trying to convince a kindergarten kid to eat its vegetables. But deep down you feel a pang of disappointment…why would he not wanna go on a date with you? You’re pretty , smart and kind. Besides , you’ve tried being nice to him a couple of times but he keeps being a jerk. “His loss” you think to yourself.

You come out of the storage room and you go behind the register , just in case a customer comes. Then , Sang-woo comes in sighing and his mom is behind him.

—come on! Tell her!

She whispers and pushes him near you. You’re trying to hold your laugh at the whole situation.

—hey Sang-woo , what happened?

You say in a slightly teasing tone. You know damn well that it gets under his skin when you tease him. He sighs again and looks down before speaking.

—let’s go out tomorrow night.

He mutters , audibly enough for you to hear.

—wait what did you say? Say that a little louder.

You purposely say to piss him off.

—you heard what I said. At 7pm , in front of the store.

He says and leaves the store without even saying a goodbye.

—ts…so rude.

His mom looks at him disappearing in the dark and then you. She takes your hands into hers and looks at you with a warm smile.

—please excuse my son. He can be pretty cold or rude sometimes but he has a soft side…he’s just afraid to show it to people…just…give him a chance and go to the date with him. Maybe you guys will get along if you spend some time alone.

You sigh in defeat , knowing that you can’t decline mrs Hye-jin’s request. You love her too much to decline.

—don’t worry about it , mrs Hye-jin…I understand and I’ll go out on a date with him.

Sang-woo’s mom gives you a satisfied smile and walks away to finish some work. You definitely didn’t want to go on that date but you had to…

———————————————————————

I wasn’t planning on splitting this into two parts but I have soooo many ideas for this one…I hope you enjoyed part one and part two is coming soon!💓

taglist: @vkeyy @chosangwooswife @sensationallysangwoo

[rekino2114]

I had an idea!

How about the Makima and Male Readers daughter Nayuta au where Nayuta is only a couple months old. What would Y/n and Makima’s reaction to Nayuta’s first words being “mama” and Nayuta hugging Makima immediately after, how would Makima feel? How would she respond to this … love?

This is partially based on that one scene from The Wild Robot (please watch it, it’s REALLY good!) where Roz sees Brightbill hatch and he imprints on her, and Roz feels this unrecognizable feeling of love!

Oh, and P.S. have a happy new year!

You and makima reacting to nayuta's first words

A/n:I haven't watched the movie but since everyone is saying how good it is I might check it out in the future, probably when I get a streaming service

It had been only a few months since nayuta was born, but in these months, you had learned how hard it truly was to be a baby's parents

Nayuta cried constantly, and while sometimes it was pretty easy to understand why, like her being hungry or scared or wanting to pet the dogs, sometimes there was just absolutely no reason why and you and makima had to do everything you could to get her to stop, often lulling her to sleep.

It was the first time you saw makima tired, even fighting devils didn't leave her in that state, she had bags under her eyes and needed three times the amount of coffee she usually had, you were so glad she was on maternity leave because she would probably finger gunned every devil who inconvenienced her.

You tried to suggest using her powers on her, but she quickly refused as she vowed to never use them on the people she loved, and also she literally couldn't since she considered nayuta her equal just like you. You simply smiled and told her you were glad she loved nayuta this much.

She raised her eyebrow and looked at you confused

"She's our daughter, of course I love her a lot"

"I know, and I think that the fact that you think it's obvious that you love her this much is a sign of how much you've grown"

Makima thought about it for a bit and then smiled

"Well that's all thanks to you"

She always said that, and even with how many times you told her that it was because of her, she quickly shut you down. Your love was what gave her the ability to feel love and emotions and made her a true person, so it was just your merit.

Even with all of the downsides, having nayuta is a choice makima never regretted, because there were some moments where she was just adorable, and that made the control devil's love for her daughter grow even more.

One of these moments, a very important one, came on a seemingly normal day. You and makima were watching nayuta crawl on the ground and play with some toys you got her

"Look at her going, she's so cute'

"She is darling. Do you think I should buy her something else to play with?"

"Maybe, she seems to be really enjoying these, though."

"You're right, I'll think about it later"

Suddenly nayuta stopped poking the puppy plushie she had and turned around, crawling toward her mother

"Oh what is it yuta? Do you want me to get you your bottle?"

"Mama"

The word came out so fast that makima didn't even realize her daughter said something, but when she did, her eyes widened, and her mouth shook. Makima was barely actually surprised by anything, and yet this baby uttering those simple four letters did. It surprised her, but it was the best surprise she could have ever gotten

"W-what?"

Before the red-haired woman could react, more nayuta hugged her, well as much as her small body could, her tiny arms barely reached her mother's side but the gesture was still clear and so makima reciprocated and hugged nayuta back

"W-was that her first word?"

"I.....think so"

"Oh my God! That's incredible, this is such a big moment, I'm gonna record it"

Makima nodded but she wasn't fully focused on your words. The warmth she felt in that hug, sure it was less than when you hugged her but the feeling behind them was the same:love

She could feel all the love her daughter was giving to her in that moment, our of all of the words she could have said, she chose that, she chose makima, that was the sign that nayuta loved her just as much as she loved her.

It all felt so incredible, like a wave of pure happiness washed over her entire body and mind and heart, the fact that she could feel all that happiness was already incredible and she had you to thank for that. She was genuinely so so happy she didn't know if she was going to cry or laugh and she just smiled and tightened the hold on her daughter which caused the young half devil to laugh.

Her laugh sounded so melodious to her, it was the same feeling she had when she heard her dear husband laugh, she had made this being happy and she wanted to do it again for all of eternity, she loved nayuta exactly like she loved you, maybe a little less since you were the one who truly changed her so much, but it was still love, love that she was so happy she could feel.

"Are you OK makima? You've been silent for a while"

"Yes.....sorry.....I'm just....having a moment"

You smiled understandingly and put a hand on her shoulder

"It's OK, I understand how you must feel, just know that I love you and so does nayuta, you're an amazing wife and an amazing mom, I'm so glad I chose to live with you"

Makima smiled even wider, all of the love she felt towards you and nayuta was getting mixed in her heart. It felt like she was about to explode from how much emotion she was feeling. Everything in her past, all of the people who only saw her as a weapon and who didn't let her grow a heart, the cruel control devil she was, and everything she planned to do, it didn't matter anymore, it all felt like a weird dream or maybe more accurately a nightmare.

Right now, she was makima, a wife, a mother.........a human, who was surrounded by the two people she loved the most and that who loved her just as much.

She looked up a bit in her daughter's eyes, those eyes that she shared with her, they were accompanied by an incredibly cute smile which warmed makima's heart even more if that was possible.

Looking at those eyes reminded her of something. Nayuta was everything she would have wanted to be, someone who was loved who had a family who loved her and who considered her a person. She was everything you made her feel personified, nayuta was her, the human her, the her that you created, the her that in makima's mind was the only version who existed, the old her is gone and it was never coming back..... all because of you.

She was going to protect and love nayuta forever, whatever it took just like she vowed to do with you.

In this delirious state of love and happiness and thoughts about everything she ever was, is and ever wanted to be makima only muttered a few words, directed at both you and your daughter, the complete truth that her heart had spoken so many times

".....thank you.....I love you so much"

Makima cried tears of joy and hugged nayuta even more, you quickly followed and hugged your wife too.

This hug, no, this love was what makima truly yearned for, a family, people to love, and she was so so thankful that you existed and that you met and that you loved each other and every single little miracle that had happened to you an her, because you gave her that, a family and love, and most importantly the ability to be thankful and to love you back for everything you did to her.

"I love you too makima"

"..........can we stay like this?"

"For as long as you want"

"......thank you.......for everything"

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

Headcanon that Darrel did this thing where he would pick Ponyboy up and throw him like half over his shoulder then would walk to his room and toss Ponyboy onto the bed before telling him to go to sleep.

It started when Ponyboy was six and his parents told him it was bed time and he stubbornly crossed his arms and shook his head, saying that he didn’t wanna. After 20 minutes of his parents trying to get him to listen, Darrel had come in and just plucked Ponyboy into his arms and walked him to his bed before tossing him onto the bed, Ponyboy giggling the whole time. Once Ponyboy was fully tucked in, Darrel had put his hands on his hips and asked which story he wanted before going to bed. While all this was happening, Mr and Mrs Curtis sat on the couch, stunned at how easily Pony complied when his oldest brother was asking.

It kept happening, so much so that it became their little tradition. Pony would never admit it, but sometimes he’d refuse to go to bed because he wanted to bond with his brother. That especially started happening when Darrel hit high school and was suddenly at practice, or a game, or a party more often.

Like one time when Darrel was 16 and about to leave for a party. He’d kissed his mama’s cheek and told her he’d be back the next morning. As he was about to open his front door to jog over to Paul’s car, he heard his mama tell Ponyboy it was time for bed, and he’d heard the familiar groan that meant Ponyboy wouldn’t be listening. He’d chuckled, and turned around to run up and grab his little brother, laughing harder when Pony shrieked. He’d walked to his brother’s room and tossed him onto the bed like normal, this time pausing as Pony looked up at him like he wanted to ask for something. Darrel sighed before sitting on Pony’s bed and ruffling his kid brother’s hair. He expected Pony to shake him off or smack his hand away not lunge forward and hug him. He held his little brother and smiled when he felt Pony mumble “I love ya Darry” into his chest, before saying a simple “I love ya too, buddy. g’night”. Once he knew Pony was situated, he got up and flicked off the light, smiling as he watched his baby brother snore quietly. He’d said another goodbye to his mama before running to Paul’s car and recounting the story on the drive to whatever shitty party they were headed to.

The next big time was Darrel’s last night before college. It was a bittersweet time for their family, they were overflowing with pride, but they were going to miss him. When it had gotten late, Mrs. Curtis had turned towards her youngest and told him it was time to go to bed. This time, instead of contradicting her or refusing, Ponyboy had simply turned his gaze to his oldest brother, silently pleading for him to do their tradition. Seeing that look in Pony’s eyes made Darrel’s heart hurt, because Ponyboy was twelve now and constantly insisting that he was getting too old for it, but here he was, sitting on the floor, a movie playing on the tv, silently begging Darrel to be his annoying older brother. So Darrel kissed his mama’s cheek, thanked her for the dinner celebration, and told her he could take care of this. When he started towards Ponyboy, his expression shifted to be a mischievous one, before he started tickling his brother. He let him squirm for a bit before picking him up. Once they were in Pony’s room, Darrel stopped and sat down on the bed. He didn’t miss the tears that threatened to spill out of his brother’s eyes, so he pulled him in close. He felt his shoulder start to dampen, then he heard something that took his heart and stomped on it. “I’m gonna miss you Darry, don’t forget ‘bout me ‘n Soda, okay?” Darrel just rubbed his brother’s back and promised him, “I ain’t never gonna forget ‘bout you, buddy, and I’ll miss ya too, every damn day”. That night, Darrel stayed in Pony’s room. And if Soda crept in and tucked himself against his brother too, that was his business.

It stopped happening once their parents died. Suddenly, Darrel was too tired from work and taking care of the house and the gang. Suddenly, what was once playful banter became screaming matches. Suddenly, Pony’s brother was drifting away.

But then it happened again. It was a normal night with the gang, Soda and Pony and Steve were engaged in an intense card game, where in which Soda was obviously cheating but still managing to lose at the same time. Two Bit was sprawled across the couch, watching Mickey on tv. Darrel was in his chair, watching the game and laughing. When he checked the time, he realized how late it was, so he looked at Ponyboy and told him, “alright time for bed little buddy”. Pony rolled his eyes and whined about how it wasn’t that late and couldn’t he just stay up tonight. Darrel gave him a knowing glance but Pony wouldn’t budge. So Darrel got up, pulled Ponyboy up from where he was sitting and threw him over his shoulder. When he got to his brothers’ room, he plopped pony down on the bed, but was shocked when he looked at Pony, who worse a smile with tear filled eyes. Darrel immediately stopped and looked at him, worrying he’d accidentally hurt his brother again. When he asked what was wrong, Pony choked out “‘s nothin, just, it’s the first time you done that since mama and dad died” all while bringing his arm up to wipe his eyes. Darrel sucked in a short breath before hugging his brother tight to his chest and responding with a simple, “I love ya, honey, don’t you ever forget that, okay?” He felt Ponyboy nod against him before he responded with a quick, “‘course, love ya too Darry”.

Maybe they weren’t perfect, maybe they wouldn’t ever be, but they were getting better. Pony was closer to having his oldest brother back and Darrel was slowly becoming Darry again.

[w0rmss]

Oh oh I got a (slight) idea (that needs to be modified lol) 🥹! Inspired by the song "Morally Grey" by April Jai, a smut/suggestive AU biker/mafia!Jason Todd x f!reader. In my mind, Jay is a dom who'll get down on his knees and please the woman he adores. Sorry if my request isn't clear enough though my mind is spiralling-😭😭

Thank you some much for the request and helping me find what might be my new favourite song oh my god!!! It’s fine and perfectly clear dont worry.

This is basically crime lord Jason Todd/ red hood era but instead of crime lord its mafia boss.

TW: smut body worship oral (f) overstimulation Arab reader use of nicknames like good girl princess etc soft dom

Enjoy

You know dating Jason Todd gothams biggest Mafia boss is a bad idea. He’s a killer, a dealer runs organised crime rings bigger than anyone in Gotham has seen in years. And yet you stay. You stay despite the danger despite all his wrong doings because he would watch the world burn for you. When he is with you he lives to serve to love to worship you like the goddess he believes you are. Jason made sure you were safe feed clothed loved always. Setting you up in a big apartment with lavish clothes and food. He call and he’d be there no questions asked. No matter what.

You lay curled up on the couch of your apartment waiting for him to come home. It was starting to get late when you hear the sound of a motorbike in the distance getting closer. The sound of the loud engine filling the dead Gotham streets. You hope off the couch and rush to the door hoping it was was your boyfriend, minutes later the door open and Jason walked in wearing his red and black suit smelling of bleach and blood carrying his helmet. “Hey pretty girl.” His blue eyes light up as he gives you his crocked smile that drives you wild. You lean up to give him a kiss and he lifts you with one arm and pulls you against him. Your lips move together like a familiar dance.

You lean against the counter griping it for dear life and Jason’s on his knees in front of you kissing up and down your thighs anywhere but where you need. His waist coat and suit jacket discarded on the floor along with all your clothes. His back shirt undone by the first few buttons revealing just enough of his broad chest to make your head dizzy. Finally his lips find your aching clit and you let out a moan your hands gripping the counter harder. His big hands move up to gripe your legs and move them apart more. His tongue and lips moving perfectly together. “You taste so good princess.” He hum the vibrations of his voice driving you insane. Your hands fly down to grab his dark hair as you whine and rock your hips against his perfect face. It doesn’t take long before you’re screaming his name and shaking. Your orgasm I ripping through you like a tornado.

Just as you catch your breath and think it’s over Jason starts moving his tongue fast through your soaked folds and deeper into your still spamming hole. You whine. “Jay . Please to much. Please .” You beg. The man under you laughs sending another wave of painful pleasure through your body. “Come on, just be a good girl, you can take.” He looks up at you and you surrender to him as easily as you always do.

After he tucked you into bed and kisses the top of your head. “You did so well baby girl. I have to go something came up but I’ll be back before you wake up.” He brushes some hair out of your hair and leans down to kiss you. You love Jason . He treats you well makes you see stars every interaction and makes you fell loved. Even if he is the morally grey mafia boss feared by all of Gotham he’s yours and greys always been your favourite colour.

Hope you enjoyed

feel free to leave requests i love getting them thank you so much for the support it makes my day.

have a wonderful day night afternoon etc

[glasvera]

Dream and Sugar

Adam Warlock x Fem!Reader

Description: (Sequel to Bittersweet!) Adam Warlock has discovered the wonders of coffee... but he has yet to discover just what it is about you that brings him all the way back to see you.

Warnings/Disclaimers: Fluff! Lil' bit of slow-burn too, or at least, as slow as you can get with a man who is very direct with his words and intentions.

A/N: Writing Adam Warlock at this point feels like I'm returning home. I've never written for so many characters in a piece of media before, and I'm absolutely LOVING it, but whenever I need a palette cleanser for writing I keep coming back to my favorite golden boy. I'll probably use this series for that very purpose, to be honest.

Word Count: 3.5k

To be honest, you hadn’t expected to see him again. Not outside of your dreams, at least. It was almost pitiful how much he had wormed into your thoughts after only meeting him once. Though, in your defense, he really was the picture of perfection.

It had been a few months, and business had returned to the town’s favorite cafe. The cold, rainy weather was nippy but far from a deterrent, and people flocked here hour after hour to dry off and warm themselves up with a hot cup of coffee. It keeps your mind busy, at least. Not much time to pine after a golden space man when you have ten different lattes waiting to be made. And goodness knows you were thankful for the bustling crowd that drowned out the boss’s smooth jazz playlist.

“Excuse me, is Y/N here?”

The cocktail party effect is a strange phenomenon, but you’re so thankful for it when your ears perk up at the sound of a deep, smooth voice. You can’t quite see around the corner of the kitchen and your hands are full at the moment with orders, but you do hear the way your coworker’s voice picks up in pitch the way she always does when there’s a hot guy at the counter.

“Oh, are you a friend of hers?” you hear her ask, and you roll your eyes. You can already envision her twirling her hair, giving him a little giggle… 

“I… perhaps. You did not answer my question.”

Oh yeah. That’s definitely him. Butterflies explode in your chest and you nearly fumble and drop the drink you were carrying. Your coworker sighs, clearly put off by his obliviousness at her attempts to flirt with him.

“Yeah, she’s in the back. Hey, Y/N!”

You scramble to finish what you’re doing, or, at least, get to a stopping point, before you peek your head through the doorway.

And gods, he’s just as gorgeous as you remember.

White gold eyes flicker over to your face as you give him a small wave, and a wide smile spreads across his cheeks. He’s dressed much differently this time, and you’re almost disappointed to see him in a red shirt underneath a black, fur lined winter coat, even if he does look good in it. Though, you suppose, it’s probably for the best. At least you could picture what was underneath.

“Y/N!” he exclaims excitedly. “I came back!” Oh, he’s too adorable. A golden retriever in a man’s body. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, and you could easily imagine a big fluffy tail wagging behind him.

You step closer to the counter, stifling a giggle at his enthusiasm. “I’m happy to see you, Mister Warlock.”

“Please, just Adam,” he urges. “I think we are friendly enough for that, at least.”

Were you? Well, you certainly weren’t gonna argue. The thought of it makes you giddy.

Your coworker’s exaggerated sigh brings you back to reality. “Y/N, can you not, like, wait until break or something? We’re kinda swamped.”

Even if you detest her bitchy attitude, you can’t deny that the line forming behind Adam is only getting longer and more irritated. “Oh, I--yeah, you’re right.” Adam looks slightly perplexed, cocking his head to the side as he watches you move about. You give him a wry smile. “Sorry, I… my shift ends in an hour. I’d hate to ask you to wait, but--”

“I have the entire day to myself. I would be happy to wait,” he responds quickly, dismissing your worries in an instant with his voice. He really had come out all this way to see you, hadn’t he? You can’t stop the blush from warming your cheeks at this realization. Though, it was more likely he’d come seeking the “resident coffee expert” as he had so aptly put it before. Still, the thought excited you, and you nod.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you in an hour!”

-----

It really was the longest hour of your life. Shifts like this usually fly by with how busy you are, but every time you bring out an order and call for the person’s name, you catch a glimpse of Adam lounging in one of the corner couches. He seems to keep to himself, even if his boredom is palpable. At one point you see him reading a fashion magazine with an eyebrow raised, and the next he’s nose deep in a years old issue of Entertainment Weekly. Man, your boss really needed to swap some of those out.

When your shift is finally coming to an end, you ask one of your other coworkers to put together your usual while you start concocting something for Adam. From your last encounter, you remember him liking his coffee blonde and sweet, so you decide to treat him to the wonders of syrups as you add a bit of brown sugar and caramel.

“So… how did you two meet?” one of your nicer yet nosier coworkers asks as he elbows you playfully. He waggles his eyebrows over in Adam’s direction, and you purse your lips before huffing a laugh through your nose.

“It’s not like that,” you clarify as you throw your jacket over your arms.

“Really? Because I'd be all over that in a heartbeat,” he replies with a hand over his chest. “What is he, made out of pure gold or something? And that voice!”

“Stop!” you exclaim with a laugh. “Believe me, I wish it was. I've literally only met him once before, right after downtown got totally wrecked. He's one of the guys who saved the day.”

“That's one of the Guardians of the Galaxy? Shit, girl, you better act fast,” he teases as you grab your bag and your coffees. You titter and shake your head, but you can't deny the rush you feel knowing that someone as well-known and beloved as Adam Warlock had come to see you personally. Maybe you had a chance with him, after all.

Or maybe you're just delusional and this perfect golden man is very friendly.

Adam's head pops up excitedly from the magazine he's reading when you approach. This time it’s Sports Illustrated, and you can't help but notice he almost seems relieved to have his attention pulled away from it.

“Ah, there you are,” he greets you with a warm smile as he stands, neatly replacing the magazine in its wooden cubby.

“How many of those did you go through?” you find yourself asking as you point to the small stack.

His cheeks turn a dark copper. A blush? He clears his throat. “I… all of them. I fear there is little to do here if one isn't drinking coffee.”

You give him a sympathetic smile before nodding towards the door. “You didn't have to stay here, you know. I know it's cold outside, but something tells me the temperature doesn't bother you that much.” More than a few people had given him strange looks for lingering in the cafe for that long without removing his winter coat, let alone without even breaking a sweat.

He hangs his head a bit, sheepishly glancing off to the side. “I did not want to get lost. If I did, I may not have made it back at the promised hour,” he admits shyly.

His kindness and consideration absolutely melt you. “Oh, that's--” you pause and chuckle, “...you're too sweet.”

“Am I?” he asks genuinely, his brow creeping up his forehead. “It seems like a simple courtesy.”

You offer him the coffee you'd made for him and he takes it into his hands, blinking down at it before returning his attention to your face. With a gentle smile, you reply, “It's more thought than most people would put into it, at least. But never mind that; go ahead and try that. I think you'll like it.”

“Oh, you--?” He stops himself, simply nodding before bringing the mouth of the lid to his lips. His eyes widen in an instant, an audible “mmm” humming in his throat as he takes a few more sips. It clearly takes him a lot of self-restraint to not finish his cup in one go, lowering it as he swallows. “I knew I made the right decision in trusting you,” he says emphatically before giving you a brilliant smile.

Now it's your turn to be shy, rubbing the back of your neck and chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I'm glad you like it,” you reply quietly.

“If I may trouble you further,” he says, leaning forward and tilting his head so that his face is level with yours. His closeness draws a little squeak from your lips. “The Guardians gave me the entire day to myself. I… would spend more time with you.”

Your mouth hangs agape. He wants to spend time with you? Warmth blossoms in your chest and your stomach flips.

When you don't immediately respond, he withdraws, worry creasing his brow, and exhales with a forlorn smile. “I… forgive me. That was a selfish request--”

“N-no!” you're quick to interrupt, not thinking about your movements when your hand comes to rest over his. You gasp and pull back instantly, and you can feel your face growing hot as the touch lingers on your fingertips. “I would love to. I just wasn't expecting it.”

“Why not? You seem pleasant enough company,” he replies, confused by your trepidation. 

“I… um…” You lick your lips, lacking a proper answer when you really think about it. “Never mind, but thank you.”

There's no way this man is real. You're clearly dreaming. Some intergalactic superhero shows up once, interacts with you once, and suddenly he has an interest in you? This is either an incredibly elaborate dream or a terribly cruel prank.

Though, you're not going to deny yourself this indulgence, real or not.

“There’s a park nearby. Obviously it's not the liveliest place right now, but I like to go there to relax.” When he regards you with curiosity, you add, “I would rather not spend more time at my place of work than I need to.”

He smiles in understanding before approaching the exit, opening the door as bitter winter air spills into the cafe. He nods for you to go first, and you have to stifle the girlish giggle bubbling in your chest. Of course he's a perfect gentleman. The two of you make your way down the sidewalk, side by side, though occasionally Adam stops to take another sip of his coffee. Each time he does, he adopts a delighted smile that warms your very soul.

“So,” he starts as you walk, eyeing you from the side. “How did you become a coffee expert?”

He asks it so genuinely you almost feel bad for the snort you let out. “I… I'm no expert. Just a local barista who enjoys what she does. Well, minus the customers, sometimes,” you respond.

“Ah… I am a customer, aren’t I?” he asks forlornly.

“Oh, you're one of the good ones!” you reassure him. “After all, I don't usually spend time with customers once my shift ends. You're a special one.”

“A special one? Hmm…” He seems to give this a great deal of thought as he rests a hand under his chin. “It is good that you do not dislike me, though. I certainly prefer it this way.”

You blink up at him in surprise as a blush spreads across your cheeks, and he seems to realize it in the same moment as his face turns a deeper shade of copper. He clears his throat, and you turn your head away with a quiet giggle.

The two of you finally reach the park, and much to your surprise, there are quite a few people here. A lot of couples wander about the paved pathways, cuddled up together for warmth as they whisper sweet nothings to each other and admire the soft glow of the lights that have been strung about. You can't help but feel a little self conscious about bringing Adam here; it’s clear that the atmosphere is far more amorous than usual.

“There is joy in plentiful abundance here. I can understand why you would enjoy it,” his voice breaks through your thoughts as he smiles at you. 

“I-I… it's, um… not normally this populated this time of year,” you explain as you nervously massage the nape of your neck. A shiver wracks your body then, and you're reminded that the light jacket you were wearing was enough for your commute but far from sufficient for lingering in the cold.

Adam seems to take notice, immediately shedding his winter coat and draping it over your shoulders. “Here,” he says softly as you're suddenly enveloped in warmth. His broad shoulders mean that his coat dwarfs you, reaching almost to your knees. It smells like him, like golden sunshine, earth, and the faintest hint of cologne. You hadn’t pegged him as the sort to wear fragrance, but you find yourself trying to memorize the scent nonetheless. 

“Oh, I--thank you,” you acquiesce as your blush deepens. The long sleeved red shirt he had worn underneath hugs his physique, and you have to stop yourself from staring.

“Do not mention it. It was merely a fashion choice to blend in, so I will be fine without it.” He looks at the way your neck disappears beneath the coat's fur collar and lets out a chortle. “Though, it may be a bit large for you. I apologize.”

You shake your head, trying to shed your rather Terran thoughts of what his actions normally imply at the same time, and offer him a shy smile. “No, it's fine. It’s warmer this way, I think.”

A bench beneath a large, barren oak draped in string lights is where you find yourselves. Though you sit side by side, you're careful not to sit too close to him. Don't want to give the wrong impression. It's quieter here, at least, and you settle into your seat with a long sigh before staring up into the colorless winter sky. The setting sun tries to peek through the clouds, a lone beacon glowing through the fog with its cold light. 

At least you have your own sun sitting next to you. 

“Do you like living here?” he asks suddenly with a tilt of his head in your direction. Curious eyes blink innocently at you.

That’s one you really have to think about. You shuffle a bit in your seat and tug his jacket tighter around your body, letting out a contemplative hum.

“It’s… familiar,” you finally say, your gaze trailing away as you grow lost in thought. “Routine. There’s a comfort in that.”

“You want something more,” he surmises from your tone, eyes softening.

You blink at him in surprise. “I… yeah. I suppose I do. But at the same time, change is scary, you know?” Burying your chin in the coat’s fur trim, you sigh. “You must see so many things out there…”

He chortles then, a low, rumbling sound. “And yet I still came here to experience coffee for the first time.”

His jovial nature eases your worries, instead letting you consider just what your first meeting really meant. “You’re telling me, truly, that you couldn’t get coffee elsewhere? I don’t believe for a second that coffee didn’t make its way across the galaxy!”

A hearty laugh bursts forth from him. “No, but I do not often have time at my disposal to seek such things out. I saw the opportunity while we were in the area and took it.”

Unexpectedly, he takes your hand gently in his. His golden skin is still just that, skin, tender and warm as he cradles your smaller hand in his palm. “I am glad I did,” he adds, smiling softly. “You have proven to be wonderful company.”

Your face heats up instantly to the point you’re surprised you can’t see steam coming off of your skin. Eyes glued to where your hands meet, you can feel your heart fluttering at even that simplest of touches.

“I-I… I’m glad you think so,” you finally eke out, thanking whatever gods are listening that your voice didn’t crack too terribly.

“This will be a wonderful… friendship, I think. Perhaps you can teach me other things, such as terran fashion or customs.” A sparkle glints in his eyes that you can’t help but notice. You also couldn’t help but notice the pause in his speech, nor the way his own cheeks turned a deep bronze.

“I don’t think you’ll need much help from me on fashion,” you reply, nodding at his current outfit. “You clearly have good taste.”

“Do I?” he asks with genuine surprise. “I simply chose garments that fit me well and that were in colors I often already wore and enjoyed…”

You giggle, and he regards you perplexedly. “You do realize that means you’re already putting more thought into it than most do, right?” When he shakes his head, you add, “A lot of people just grab whatever clothes are clean and head out the door.”

He seems to think on that, toying with your fingers as he brushes his thumb over your knuckles while he ponders. “I see… so that is what Qui--ah, Star-Lord does every day. It would explain some things.”

You snort at that, recalling the other humanoid that had been accompanying him the last time you met. “I wouldn’t tell him that, if I were you. He seems to have a fragile enough ego already.”

Adam gives you a knowing smirk as a laugh huffs from his nostrils. “You gathered as much from one meeting? You have a keen eye.”

“Nah, I’m just used to his type,” you correct him, shrugging your shoulders. “Not the first time I’ve been flirted with at work.”

“Mm,” he hums pensively. “That does not surprise me.” His eyes snap back up to yours and, once he realizes what he’s said, that bronze shade grows even more intense upon his face. “That is--I, well, you are pleasant to talk to, and to look at--”

Is he getting flustered? Over you? …Did he just say you were pleasant to look at?

He bites his tongue and looks away bashfully, withdrawing his hand. “I have said too much. Forgive me.”

Now you are the one who reaches for his hand, taking it back into your delicate hold as he regards you from the corner of his eye. “No, no… I don’t mind. Really,” you urge, even if your heart hammers in your chest. “I feel the same about you.”

“Ah…” he responds, the syllable almost choking its way from his throat. “It is not a feeling I am used to navigating. Forgive me if I seem hesitant or unsure.”

He seems so vulnerable now, this perfect man, and you feel yourself leaning closer to him. The hesitation is still there, but something about him draws you closer. You press your palm against his before interlocking your fingers. Golden lips part softly as he watches you closely, searching for any sign of discomfort, and all he sees is your gentle smile.

“And… what feeling is that?” you ask tentatively. It’s easier to brace yourself for any possible rejection if you just stare at your interlaced hands instead of his face.

“I…” he begins, trailing off for a moment. “Attraction, at the very least,” he finally ventures, his eyes darting off to stare at the lingering snow that clings to the grass. “I did not lie. It is soothing, pleasurable, even, to be in your company. That much I know. I am drawn to you.”

Well, that much you had in common. Finally your gaze finds its way back to his face. He’s clearly embarrassed. Meanwhile, you’re over the moon, trying desperately to contain your excitement at this revelation. Still, this is clearly all new, especially for him, and the last thing you want to do is scare him off.

“I’m flattered, Adam,” you reply warmly, bringing his attention back to you. “It… it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to, though. People find each other attractive all the time.” Reality sinks in as you continue, “...and you’re always off saving the universe, so if you don’t want to--”

“Please,” he suddenly hisses, clasping his other hand over yours and squeezing. “Do not dismiss what I am telling you. Even if I am unsure of it myself, I know that I want to spend more time with you.” When your eyes widen, he continues, “I know of friendship. Kinship. What it is to have people close to you. There is something about your very soul that invites me deeper, beyond even that. It is true that you and I have only barely become acquainted, but I…”

He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles.

“I would be terribly suffering if I were never to see you again.”