#also a man that didn't appreciate me and left me with basically nothing to fall back on | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shifterdomain · 5 months ago

Note

Thankyou! I'd like to say anon if that's okay.

I was thinking (non celebrity figure)

Jonah owns a coffee shop, yn goes there to blow off steam everyday after her shift (she's a doctor/surgeon), and she'll go there to read and have a very milky hot chocolate. She would stay there for hours, sometimes even past their closing time. Jonah just admires hers, and let's her stay until he's finished closing down

Eventually he starts to get to know her and then he's sitting with her on his breaks, talking, laughing, being touchy, joking about how milky she likes her hot chocolate.

Hand holding, first kisses, midnight chats, first time staying around at his place and being nervous (above the coffee shop)

His parents also work in the coffee shop too, and they're watching the love grow between the two of you, and they find it very cute.

I was thinking she could bring a guy to the coffee shop because he was upset at work, but instead of biting two coffees, she bought three, one for Jonah too. As if to say "you have nothing to worry about" even though Jonah and yn aren't a couple yet, he really appreciates that and knows what she meant with the coffee, even though she didn't say it out loud.

First dates, first kiss, finding her fall asleep everywhere, her looking cute in scrub tops, moving in and proposing, reflecting on how they met and how beautiful their relationship has become?

It sounds a lot, I know! Simplify it however you want, long or short, doesn't matter! Thankyou very much ❤️❤️

#jonahhauerking

My Milky Way / Jonah Hauer-King X Reader AU

A/N: I'm so, so sorry that it's taken so long. There's been a lot going on in my life lately that made me lose interest in writing for a while (and it didn't help that I lost the story multiple times). But it's finally here. I really hope your guys will like it. It's basically a set of short stories.

REQUESTED BY ANON

Summary: Jonah owns a little coffee shop in the outskirts of London and every time on your break you go there to rewind. But as time passes, you find that the coffee is not your only reason for coming there. Warnings: A little cringe sometimes. Can't really think of anything else. Word count: 4415.

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It was cold out. The snowflakes fluttering down from the gray clouds as the cold wind colored your cheeks a rosy pink. Pulling your coat tighter to block out the winter cold, your steps quick as the snow crunched under your boots.

Winter was nice. As long as you were inside, curled up under a warm blanket with your fuzzy sucks and a good book. But people didn’t stop getting sick just because you wanted a quiet winter, quite the opposite, in fact. Winters were the busiest times at St. Louis Hospital and being a family medicine doctor, you dealt with a lot of variating cases. But luckily there was ‘The Pink Deer’, a small, cozy coffee shop just outside of Central London.

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth when you saw the front of the shop, it’s wood curling around in pillars with the words ‘The Pink Deer’ engraved into the wood in bold letters above the door. Hearing its little bell above the door ring was enough to give you a sense of calmth, together with the warmth inside and the scent of freshly baked goods that filled your nostrils.

Inhaling deeply, you let your coat fall open and stepped up to the counter. “One hot chocolate with extra milk to go, please,” you order, offering the young man behind the counter a soft smile.

“For Y/N?” he questioned, his eyebrows raising slightly as you gave him a surprised look.

“How did you…?” You didn’t need to finish your sentence as he pointed at your chest, your name embroided on the blue scrubs above your breast pocket. Chuckling softly you look back up at him, your cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, uhm, Y/N,” you repeat your name.

He wrote the order down on the cup before going about preparing your drink. You didn’t notice it until you had left the coffee shop that next to your name, he had drawn a small winky face, earning a soft laughter from you.

A few days later you returned to the coffee shop, placing the same order, except this time taking a seat in one of the booths in the far corner by the window. Pulling the book you had brought from your bag, you got comfortable in the corner. You liked to bring a book with you, even if you did not read it. Although working with people was fun and very fulfilling, it was nice to have a moment to yourself and you knew that with a book in hand, people would be less likely to disturb you.

“Hot chocolate, extra milk,” you heard a voice say as your order was placed down in front of you. Looking up only to say thanks, your gaze couldn’t help but linger as you saw the same boy from a few days ago standing there.

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you replied: “Thank you, sir.”

Not noticing the evening fall, you sat in your corner, enjoying your copy of Little Women. Patrons came and went and most of the staff had already left the coffee shop and moved on their way home.

“Sorry, miss, but we’re closing,” a girl announced, making you look up from your book, acknowledging her with a small smile. You were about to gather your things and leave when the man from earlier spoke up again.

“Don’t worry, you can stay a little longer if you’d like,” he spoke up, his words catching you by surprise. “We’re uhm, we’re staying open a little longer because this evening is a special anniversary for The Pink Deer,” he explained and the girl gave him a confused look, unaware.

“Thank you,” you reply kindly, turning your attention back to the book.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Days turned into weeks and you kept on returning to the coffee shop. At first it was just because you liked the peace and quiet it brought, but eventually your motives started to change. Hiding behind your book, your eyes kept on returning to the young waiter.

He was quite handsome, you surely weren’t going to deny that, but it was his eyes which caught your attention. Blue like the stormy nights at the uncharted seas. They drew you in and you found yourself unable to focus on any word in the pages of your books.

And when he smiled, those beautiful blue eyes lit up and dimples carved into his cheeks. You were curious about him, but too shy to make any move, in fear of it becoming awkward. So you were surprised, pleasantly so, when he approached your booth in the table.

“Is everything alright?” he asked you, his voice slightly hushed as he talked, just loud enough to come out over the soft chatter of the other patrons. As you looked into his eyes, you could almost swear that there was genuine concern there. Though there was no reason for a stranger to feel that way, so you shook off the thought.

“Yes, why?”

“You just… I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t turned a page since you got here. I wondered if there was maybe something wrong,” he explained, your cheeks flushing as you realize that he too had been paying attention, that he had been watching you. “Not to pry or anything, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” he added quickly, but you held up your hand to ease his worries, lightly shaking your head.

“Don’t worry about it. Really, it’s all good. But uhm, can I maybe have another hot chocolate?” you ask. “Extra milk,” you both say in unison, your blush only darkening.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You didn’t just come during your breaks at work or after your shifts anymore. Coming to the coffee shop had become a daily routine when you noticed your mystery waiter worked every day. Asking around, you had found out that his name was Jonah and his parents owned The Pink Deer.

And every day when you came to get your hot chocolate with extra milk, Jonah would let you stay late. Even after the other patrons had left, you remained in your booth, watching him over the edge of your book.

“You really like that one, huh?” he questioned, wiping down one of the tables as he looked back up at you.

“Yeah, how’d you figure?”

“You’ve been coming for almost half a year,” he begins, tossing the towel over his shoulder and walking over to your table, sliding into the booth across from you. “Yet I bet you haven’t advanced a single page since.”

“I like to take my time with reading,” you state, trying to hide the embarassment that you had been caught. “It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

“Really? I’d figure it would be quite boring after saving people’s lives,” he replied, a teasing edge to his voice as he crossed his arms, leaning forward on the table.

“Boring?” you scoff with a small laughter. “Excuse me, Jonah, but it is far from boring.”

“And apparently you don’t find me boring either,” he grinned and it took a second for you to realize that you had actually just called him by his name. It had simply slipped out, but it had felt so natural that you had not even noticed.

“I like to call it curiosity.”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” I add, putting in my bookmark before finally closing my book and putting it down. “People always forget that part.”

“Well, Y/N, are you satisfied?”

“Maybe bring me another drink and I’ll know.”

“Hot chocolate?”

“With extra milk,” you nod, smiling as he got up to prepare you another drink. You watched as he took extra care in putting in the right amount of milk, a small gesture that made your heart flutter.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Ever since then Jonah would join me by my booth during his breaks and after his shifts. He would sit down across from me with his own cup of coffee. You tried to convince him to try the hot chocolate with extra milk, but he insisted that he didn’t like hot chocolate, going with a simple cappucino instead. And every time it would spark an argument of playful teasing on which was better.

“One hot chocolate with extra milk and one cappucino,” Debra said as she placed the orders down in front of us. “And an extra cookie for you,” she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, throwing you a playful wink before leaving you and her son be again.

“I never get an extra cookie,” Jonah grumbled, looking between you and the cookie with a pout on his lips.

“You never give me an extra cookie either,” you retort with a quiet chuckle before breaking the chocolate chip cookie in half and handing one part over to him. Had it been anyone else, you would have joked with a ‘Joey doesn’t share food’ pun, but Jonah had the gift where you simply couldn’t deny him, couldn’t tell him no. And a part of you wished he would notice just how far your affection for him stretched.

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Today had been a rough day at work and Jonah had noticed how you had not come in during your break, but it was when he saw you enter the coffee shop with another man that he truly felt his heart drop. The smile he wore slowly fading away with a gloom expression fading over his eyes. Normally he would have thought nothing of it. He was not a jealous man, but even if he were, there was no reason to be. You were not his anyway. But seeing you walk in with another man, laughing the way he thought you only laughed with him. It was foolish to think so, he thought. Why would he be the only one you laughed with like that? Well, you were the only one he laughed with like that.

“Daniel, you go take a seat,” you tell your collegae, pointing over towards the booth where you always sat, watching as your friend went to take a seat.

You walk over to the bar to place your order, greeting Jonah’s mom with a small wave and a kind smile before Jonah walks over to you. You couldn’t help but notice the dull look in his eyes. “Jo, everything okay?” you ask him, worried.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Hot chocolate with extra milk?”

“Yes please,” you smile at him. “And a black coffee for my friend,” I add, watching as he scribbles down the orders. “And a cappucino. With an extra cookie.”

He looks back up at you, his smile returning before he scribbles it down with a quiet chuckle. He watches as you go to sit at your usual spot, bringout out your orders a few minutes later.

“Jo, this is Daniel,” I introduce them, scooting over to give Jonah some room to sit. “Daniel, meet Jonah.”

They shake hands and Daniel looks him over before looking back at me with a smirk as Jonah sits down next to me. I place my hand on the table, my pinky timidly brushing over Jonah’s, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks at the small touch.

“You were right, Y/N,” Daniel states. “He’s a catch. Anyway, thanks for the coffee, but I gotta run,” he says, teasingly wiggling his eyebrows as you stare daggers at him. You should’ve expected something like that, after all you had been talking to him about Jonah for months.

“A catch?” Jonah questions, his gaze returning to you, though you were pleased that your cheeks were not the only ones that were flushed. “You know, if you want, you could uhm, catch me here tomorrow evening? 8 PM?”

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You didn’t know what to expect, how to view this… impromptu outing. Was it a date? Or just a friendly hangout? No matter what it was, what he had expected it to be, you had probably overdone your preperations. It felt good to put some effort in, especially after wearing those scrubs all day, but there had never been this much attention to how you looked. Your favorite outfit, not a lock of hair out of place and your make-up on point.

It was chilly out, so you hugged your winter coat closer, though it was mostly the persistent pounding of your heart that kept you warm. And then the cold came as you rounded the corner, met with the familiar sight of The Pink Deer, which had become your very favorite coffee shop. But it was the unfamiliar sight of him that brought the cold along. No longer in his working uniform with the stains of coffee on his shirt, but instead in a striking blue suit with a woolen overcoat, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as you noticed him fidgeting with a pocket watch in his free hand. He too was feeling overly anxious, unsure of how you would view all of this.

“Hey, sorry if I’m late,” you apologize as you walk over to him, hoping you had not kept him waiting for too long. But as you glance down at your own watch, you see that you were actually over ten minutes early yourself.

“No, no,” he quickly reassured you. “I uhm, I locked up a little early. You look… beautiful,” he complimented, a pause in his voice as he took in the sight of you with an appreciative gaze, one that made you feel warm again despite the shiver it send down your spine. He shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. “Come on in.”

Unlocking the door to the coffee shop, he allowed you to enter first and you were in awe at the sight before you. The shop had always been cozy, but Jonah had lit a number of candles, sprinkled rose petals around a table in the center with two plates already stood waiting.

He closed the door behind you, fumbling with the keys as he locked the door, keeping the cold out. “Oh, I’ve got you these,” he says, handing you the bouquet of flowers.

“These are my favorite,” you state, taking the flowers from him and inhaling their scent, in awe of the thoughtful gesture. “How did you know?”

“A man never reveals his secrets,” he teases, grabbing a vase from behind the counter and filling it with water. “But uhm, it’s mostly because I’ve been watching you. God, that makes me sound like a creep. I mean… well, I have been watching. I noticed these flowers were on your bookmark, and that they were sewn into your bag.”

“My own little stalker,” you tease back with a quiet chuckle, putting him at ease. You knew well enough that you were no better as you had been watching him over the rim of your book for as long as you had been going to the Pink Deer.

You sat down at the table together, soft music playing in the background as Jonah served you a rather delicious, homecooked meal, talking about everything and nothing at all. You told him stories about your life you never expected to share. Not just the basic stories of how you got into med school and how you are with your family. But you told him the embarressing stories of little you that you thought to take into the grave.

“How about some desert?” Jonah suggested once you had both finished your dinner. “My mom uhm, she made cupcakes…”

“She’s a sweetheart,” you chuckle lightly, giving him a small nod as you finish the last sip from your glass of wine. “I’d love a cupcake. And maybe a hot chocolate with it? With extra-”

“Milk?” he interrupts you, a teasing grin playing on his lips as he takes both of your plates. “Any other requests, darling?” he asks, your cheeks flushing at the pet name, his accent shining through more pronounced than usual. Even though the sound of it was normal, living in England, it sounded different from him. Everything did.

“No, no, uhm, that’s- that’s it,” you answer, a slight quiver in your voice. The hold that this man had on you…

He placed the mug of hot chocolate down in front of you, together with the plate with a cupcake on it, putting one down for himself as well. He pulled the can of whipped cream from under his arm, filling up the rest of your mug to the brim and above before instructing you to: “Open up,” and pour a good amount in your mouth as well, making you giggle at the playful gesture, your hand flying to your mouth to keep from spilling.

“The whipped cream milky enough for you?” he teased.

You wiped the essence from your mouth and your chin where it had dripped down. “Jerk,” you playfully insult him, your eyes sparkling with joy in a way that made time stand still for him. He reached out, gently wiping a leftover bit from the corner of your mouth, his thumb lingering on your lip as he had to fight himself from leaning in and kissing you right there. But he kept his restraint. He wanted to take things slow, to give you both the time to really know each other.

He knew what happened when things moved too quickly, how love could fizzle out, and he didn’t want that to happen. Not between the both of you. So he waited.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You had been going out for two weeks now, spending most of the time you had to spend together. The both of you were on cloud nine and Jonah loved to spoil you by making you little crafts, picking flowers for you and singing you songs.

You were out on another date, having just gone out to get some ice cream and walking through the city. It was late and relatively quiet out as you passed other people. Some were going to clubs or taking a little stroll. You walked hand in hand, close to him as his warmth seeped into you through your clothes. Keeping your hand in his, he swung his arm over your shoulders.

“Do you think we’ll be like that?” he questioned, nodding over to an elderly couple sat cuddled up on a little bench, looking out over the river.

“Old and grey? Hopefully.”

“Together,” he corrected. “Like that. I can see it…”

“As long as you keep taking me out on ice cream dates,” you reply, a hint of playful teasing in your voice as you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling your heart warm at the closeness. “And keeping making me hot chocolate.”

“With extra milk,” he teases back.

You reach the door to your apartment and his arm disappears from your shoulder, leaving you instantly cold, though his hand remains in yours. He walks you to the door before gently tugging you back by your hand. His eyes met yours, seeming to shine brighter as you see the love reflected back at you.

“I want to kiss you,” he states bluntly, causing your heart to skip a beat, rendering you speechless. “I just- I don’t want to push you or go too quickly. Is it too forward of me to ask if I can kiss you goodnight?” His voice softens with each word and you can hear a slight quiver in them, betraying that he was nervous and anxious, waiting with bated breath for your answer.

“Yes,” you answer. “I mean, no. No you’re not to forward and yes, you may- you may kiss me.”

His face lit up, his large hand coming up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb idly caressing your cheekbone as he slowly leaned in. His breath mingled with yours, ghosting over your lips. He hesitated for a split second, giving you time to move away if you so wanted, but you didn’t. Of course you didn’t. You had been dreaming of this moment, of getting to love him, for months.

His lips brushed yours, timidly at first, before you felt him smile against your lips. Your shoulders slumped, your body melting into his as you committed the moment, the touch, the feeling to your memory. Not that it would be the last kiss you would share. But you never wanted to forget this very moment. You loved him too dearly now to let him go, and he was simply enchanted by you.

You didn’t want it to end, but eventually you reluctantly pulled away from him, your eyes remaining shut as you could still feel his touch on your lips. He chased after you, caught in the heat of the moment, before straightening up again and when your eyes finally fluttered open, there was a look of pure joy and adoration in his crystal blue eyes.

“Goodnight, Jonah.”

“Goodnight, love.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You were in Jonah’s apartment, staying the weekend, as you waited for him to come home. He was working late as the coffee shop was hosting a private party for a bridal shower. Sat on the couch in his living room, you were watching The Little Mermaid, one of your favorite Disney movies, humming along with the soft tunes of the songs.

When Jonah finally returned, exhausted from the day’s work, you had fallen asleep on the couch. He looked down at you, shrugging off his coat and tossing it over a chair and kicking his shoes aside, careful not to wake you.

He loved the little moments like these, finding you asleep on his couch or in a chair, still in your scrubs from work. You knew if you changed into your pajamas, the chance was more likely for you to fall asleep so you stayed in your scrubs in an attempt to stay awake. Not that it worked.

He looked down at you, adoringly, as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “Time for bed, love,” he murmured before carefully scooping you up in his arms.

He carried you out of the living room bridal style, into his bedroom, and gently layed you down on the soft mattress. Removing your shoes for you before quickly changing into his own pajama bottoms, tossing his work shirt aside, he crawled into the bed behind you. You felt the warmth of the blankets being pulled around you, Jonah’s strong arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you into his chest. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your skin softly.

“I love you,” he whispered softly before drifting off to sleep as well.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been a few years since Jonah and you made your relationship official and Jonah had asked you to come over to his place. He was pacing around nervously, muttering to himself as you let yourself in with the spare key he had given you.

“Jo, is everything okay?” you question, growing worried as you find him pacing holes into the floor. He usually only got so nervous when he had bad news, and there was a guilty look on his face as he stopped to look at you.

“No, no, uhm, I- I made you some hot chocolate,” he answered, the sweetness in his voice working to soothe your worries somewhat.

“With extra milk?”

“Do you still have to ask?” he teases lightly, giving you a soft smile as he walks over to greet you with a gentle kiss to your lips. You smile against his lips, your arms sliding around his neck.

You pull back slightly again, looking up at him. “Have I mentioned that I love you?”

“Once or twice,” he grins. “But I never grow tired of hearing it.”

A few hours later you were sat on the couch, talking about your days, but you noticed that Jonah was still a little nervous about something, but you didn’t want to pry to much. That was until he addressed it himself.

“Okay, I uhm, I want to ask you something. But I must admit that I’m a little nervous about it.”

“What is it?” you questioned, feeling yourself tense up as your anxious mind started to work itself into knots again, imagining the worst case scenarios.

“I want you to move in with me,” he blurted out. You had talked about it multiple times, but you had always told him that you didn’t want to move in yet until you were married as you only wanted to do things the traditional route. But before you could argue, he continued. “And I know what you said. About not wanting to move in before being married. You know, the whole… traditional thing. So…” he trailed off, sliding off of the couch, moving down to one knee in front of you. Your heart was hammering, as was Jonah’s. “Y/N, I love you more than anything in this entire world. I have known that I wanted to be with you, to live my life with you, since our first date at the coffee shop. I have memorized a million speeches, thought of a thousand ways to tell you, but there are no real ways to ever bring to words how much I love you. And I promise to always love you. To cuddle you and to make you hot chocolates with extra milk for as long as we live.” Jonah reaches into his jean pocket, pulling out a velvet box, opening it to reveal a beautiful ring, embedded with Swarovski crystals. “Y/N, will you- will you marry me?”

“Jonah, I- I love you so much. Of course I’ll marry you!”

He pulls you into his arms, pressing a deep, loving kiss to your lips before sliding the ring around your finger. A perfect fit.

“Your my world, you know that?” he murmurs against your lips as you playfully nip at his bottom lip. “My universe.”

“And you’re my milky way…”

#jonah hauer king #the little mermaid #imagines #jonah hauer-king #jonah hauer king x reader #jonah hauer-king x reader #jonah hauer king x actress!reader #jonah hauer-king x actress!reader #jonah hauer king imagines #jonah hauer-king imagines #au #coffee shop au

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mikeyswayy · 6 months ago

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hey, uh. hi. yeah. sorry i dont know why im doing this. im pretty sure youre dead. god i hope you arent. maybe this is just the digital form of visiting someones grave eh? yeah, i dunno. its lonely without you. keep wanting to tag you in things, god i fucking wish i could still tag you in things. i was a little scared to send this one, even just to write it, but id rather you be alive and proving me a fool for writing this than dead. maybe with my luck the universe’ll wanna make me look stupid so bad that ur actually fine. i miss you. ive been waiting the past few days you know that? waiting to be wrong waiting for you to come back waiting for this to be like the other times, but its been four days now. i just. i hope you found peace man, i hope if you are dead its better than anything ever was back here, you deserve it.

while im here i figure i may as well catch you up on everything goin on, not anywhere near as good as getting to freak out about it on here with you but i think its the best im gonna get. so basically a couple days ago frank posted five random dates in the shape of the mcr logo and that was. jesus frank. the dates are 11/13, 2/16, 3/7, 2/24, and 12/6. i now live in fear. and then today the official mcr account posted a picture with a background that looks reminiscent of paper kingdom, oh god, 150 peices of,, ash? confetti?? falling down over large red letters that spell out a backwards k and then cr. so basically. going insane over if this is mcr5 or not. fuck youll never get to see mcr5 will you? fucking scary, feels wrong to get excited about it without you. i hope youre okay, i really fucking hope youre okay and all this is for nothing i hope youre in the hospital because soneone found you before it was too late and you just cant have your phone because of it, i hope you didnt even do anything and youre just staying off tumblr just anything, please, fuck man you have to be okay alright?? im scared, i really miss you, i know we werent that close or even close at all but you mean do much to me alright i need you i need you to be fine. i hope you see this. oh, on the topic of not being close, i uh. never learned your real name. i made a small patch with your username and put it in the left breast pocket of my coat, i hope thats alright. wanted you close to me and all

i think thats it, so uh. this is goodbye i suppose. i didnt get to say goodbye before. saw your post 2 hours late. it hurts, i try not to get too caught up in the what ifs though. its hard. so goodbye friend, until next time. i hope to see you again. i love you.

I'm not dead!

I'm sorry I scared you like really badly but I'm okay

What happened was I like almost didn't but I didn't go deep enough to do any real harm to myself

I cut a little but not the full way so I'm fine but if I had went all the way I would probably be gone bc no one did like come in my room for a while after

I've just been staying off of here and not really posting because I didn't really think anyone would really care if I was dead or not

But I know you do

Also I really appreciate you saying what's been happening with MCR thank u

I know abt everything but still u telling me is really sweet, thank you

The patch is really nice, thank you

I feel like doing something similar since u did that and I probably scared the living shit out of you so yeah something with ur user maybe idk is that weird idk

I love you too man

I'm really sorry for scaring you I just didn't know what to do that day and I'm sorry for not really posting anything after that 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

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yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

10 years | ksj

pairing: kim seokjin x oc (ft. brother!jimin)

genre: brother's best friend, angst, forgiveness?, teeny tiny fluff (it's barely there lol)

words: 7, 294

summary: 10 years change people but you still remember

"Why are you freaking out?" Isabelle is attempting to get you to stay in one position, but it's fruitless when all you do is pace back and forth in the space of the changing rooms when you hear people barking orders from the outside.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" You exasperate.

Isabelle glares at you, nimble hands reaching to tighten the lace corset around your waist in one swift motion; turning your body to face her as she does her job of primping you up.

"You're being dramatic." She rolls her eyes.

You huff.

You loved Isabelle, probably because she's been working for your family for years and that she was the mother figure in your life that you never could have gotten from your own biological one—but also because she was the only person that knew her way around that thorny mind of yours.

"What would you do if you haven't seen someone in over ten years and the last memory you have with them is bitter?" You say in a hushed whisper.

Isabelle's eyes soften, hands reaching out to rest on your shoulders as your head droops, anxiety blooming in your chest even if you weren't the one getting married today.

"What can you do but say hello?" She says, "Time doesn't stop for anyone, _____."

You sigh, fiddling with your fingers when you hear the rustles of the curtains, causing both of your heads to turn towards the source of the noise.

"_____, your brother is asking for you." Lea, your brother's wedding planner, peeks her head through the curtains to call you.

Your heart betrays your seemingly calm stature as you begin to perspire, terrified of being face to face with the person that you should've been most excited to see.

"Time's up, ______. You can't run forever." Isabelle says, eyes solemn.

"You'd think being an adult would mean you grow out of old habits ..." Jimin mutters, glaring at you when you finally make your appearance at the rehearsal dinner.

You stick your tongue out at him petulantly, unable to forget the fact that he was no longer the older brother that you hero-worshipped because he excelled in everything that he did, nor was he the kid that stole your figurines to spite you. He was a man, older and more mature—with a wedding to celebrate the beginning of a new life with his partner.

He looks nervous, you can tell because you know Jimin better than most—a position you begrudgingly gave up in replacement of his wife, Risa—so you offer him a squeeze of his shoulder, and a look to tell him that you were here, and he was okay.

Jimin accepts it with a small smile of gratitude, moving aside so you could take your seat on the VIP table where most of his important guests sat, meaning your parents, Risa's parents, the best man and the maid of honour.

From the moment you stepped foot into the hall, you spot the person that should have been unfamiliar to you, but all you can remember is what was the best years of your life that was taken away from you. It should've been hard to spot him through the pastels and people, but you've always had eyes for him—the foolish lens of a girl that didn't want to grow up.

Even as you seat at the table, mingling with your future sister-in-law, and the maid of honour, along with Risa's parents, you can't bring yourself to acknowledge him just yet, and he has yet to make it known that he acknowledges you too.

Perhaps it was the pettiness from both ends. The fact that neither of you wanted to step down just yet, the last known interaction between the both of you only causing your heart to constrict further. You wonder if he remembers you the way you have with him.

"______," Risa calls your name, leaning in to whisper into your ear as you snap your focus on her.

"Hey, sorry." You mumble, scratching your neck, "Was a little distracted."

Risa offers you an understanding smile and you're grateful to the heaven's above that Jimin managed to make a woman like her fall in love with him. It was a far better alternative and change from the demons he used to go for as a high schooler, and you fondly (but not really) remember fighting off crazy exes when your brother decided that they weren't his long-term.

"Is this about ..." You can tell Risa hesitates to say his name, knowing the matter was still a fresh wound for you even if you had a decade to heal.

You sigh, reaching for her hand to give it a squeeze, mustering a strong front so she wouldn't worry anymore.

"Don't worry about me. It's your special day." You remind her with a soft smile.

She scoffs.

"Not yet. This is to ensure nothing goes to shit and no one gets left at the altar on a real day." She mutters.

You giggle, and even Jimin picks up on his soon-to-be wife's comment and pinches her hip, giving her a glare that lacked any real malice. You observe the way Jimin leans into his fiancee's touch when she reaches for his hand, a gesture so simple but carried the weight of lovers that wholly trusted each other.

Sometimes you envied Jimin. Throughout your adolescent years, you were always pinned against him for reasons that you still cannot justify.

The two of you were fundamentally different in nature. Jimin was a quiet kid, but his actions were the ones that spoke for him instead. For what he couldn't say in words, he made up for through the results of his actions. As a younger sibling, watching Jimin excel in every activity that he sets his mind to make you worship him, wanting to be as talented and ambitious as he was.

If he did kendo, you'd sign up so you could carry on the legacy of his talent. When he ran for class president, so did you in your own grades. Everything was always stemmed around Jimin and what he did.

Even if he was quiet, he naturally took the lead in doing things. Where you were the polar opposite. A louder than life personality should have made you the proactive one, but deep down you were meek, timid and terrified of doing things out of your comfort zone.

It did hit a sore spot for you and Jimin's relationship when he grew up enough to no longer facilitate his baby sister's incessant whines and tugs to join him in his activities. You remember the day clearly when he told you that you were nothing but an extension of him.

When you look back, you can think of it as a fond memory of two teenagers that were horrible at speaking about their feelings, but you remember the hurt you felt; only wanting to be a part of Jimin's life when he wanted to be on his own.

It took a few years to repair the relationship that was fragile, to begin with, and it wasn't just the effort of you or Jimin, but—

"Hyung, do you need to run the video through IT to check if it's playable?"

You're brought back to the present when Jimin's voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you instantly know who he's referring to.

The only person that he could comfortably refer to as 'hyung' was the only person that you have yet to greet, or acknowledge.

"I see what you're doing, Park. You're not seeing this video until the 13th."

The rest of the people at the table laugh at the banter between best friend's, but you remain uncharacteristically silent. No one picks up on it—or if they did, they know well enough not to point it out for the sake of maintaining normalcy at the table.

You listen attentively to the briefing run down by Lea, and you smile fondly at the fire that the young wedding planner carried in herself. She was meticulous, and you only had Risa to thank for managing to get the most dedicated wedding planner that you were sure was out there.

Eventually, you had to practice the walk-in from the runway, up until the altar behind where the bride and groom were to be situated. That meant you have shuffled around under Lea's commands, and that you caught more of his appearance than you would have liked.

Of course, he grew up beautifully. He had always been exceptionally good-looking even from when you were in high school up to your early college years. The birth lottery definitely favoured some people, and he was on the top of the list.

But he no longer had the same youthful charm that he did when you last saw him at 23. He looked rougher around the edges, lines on his face that come with time and experience, the stroke of a paintbrush that you weren't there to witness. Age did him well—and you couldn't deny the fact that as he grew, he also grew more attractive. The assuredness that comes with age, and the physique that you can only appreciate from afar.

The suit he's wearing is ever so flattering on his broad shoulders. He followed the theme well, a black blazer, with a deep-maroon sash draped over his shoulders. You applaud the designer that had done the fitting for him because it looked perfect, quite literally like it was made for him.

You feel mediocre immediately. The dress you were wearing was stunning—in the most objective sense—and you had a matching coloured sash that was draped around your hips instead, the corset accentuating your figure. But you were still far from comparison from him. You always have been.

"_____, could you please stand next to Jin?" Lea's voice calls out an order from the front of the altar, waving her notebook at you to step aside.

Your eyes widen as you feel the blood in your face drain, hearing your new position for the photo session.

You don't want to throw anyone off, or make Jimin's special day about you—so you suck it up, take a deep breath and shuffle into position next to Jin.

His presence is overwhelming. It's like he's there but he isn't. He doesn't feel like he's there, probably because of how long the two of you haven't spoken to each other, basically strangers. You don't acknowledge him even when your shoulder accidentally brushes against his arm, and you definitely don't acknowledge him when Lea smiles at the two of you and says perfect.

You see Risa's concerned stare on the two of you, but you give her a tight smile and mouth to her to focus on what Lea's saying instead. She narrows her eyes at you but finally relents when you nod your head to tell her that it was fine.

You were older. You weren't going to let some ... you didn't even know what to call it. But you weren't going to let the past make you feel uncomfortable when the future hasn't been told just yet.

"Jin—could you loosen up a little? It looks like you're constipated and your face isn't going to make up for that on camera," Lea deadpans, shooting a blunt comment straight at Jin.

He flushes beside you, but you don't look at him to know that because you hypothesised that he still has the same habit of his ear's turning red if all attention is on him.

"You and I know my face would've been the highlight of the picture if it weren't for the lovebirds." He quips back.

You can't find it in yourself to laugh yet when others do, but you look down at your feet to pretend like you were distracted.

Even his voice sounds more like himself. He had always been Jin, but it's like he grew out of the mould he forced himself into when you last saw him; a more relaxed yet determined version of the past that no longer exists.

"Jin!" Lea calls out.

"That seems to be your favourite word today ..." Jin mutters, which causes Jimin to snort at his best friend's antics.

Risa slaps your brother on his shoulder and narrows her eyes at him, and it's comical how fast she managed to get him to neutralise his expression.

"For a very good reason," Lea retorts, "Could you hold _____ by the waist? The space between the two of you looks too awkward."

If only she knew.

This was possibly the situation that you wanted to avoid the most, not even acknowledging him yourself, or his name to say hello—but he had to hold you close like you were something to him.

"Shouldn't he be holding the maid of honour—?" You helplessly try to reason, but the words get stuck in your throat when Lea glares at you.

For someone younger than you, and smaller than you in height too—she was terrified when she had to be.

"It's ... fine," Jin says after a beat of silence.

Then, his hand snakes around your waist so snug as he pulls you slightly closer to him that you almost lose your footing.

You gulp, unable to ignore the heat of his grasp or the way that it feels so natural as he rests his palm loosely on your hips, fingers drumming against the bone absentmindedly as Lea directs the photographer with angles that she best believe captures the moment.

When the photographer begins the countdown, you force a smile as genuine as you can, while Jin squeezes your hips as the shutter goes off.

"You two looked comfy." Jimin slides into the seat next to you after the rehearsal, rubbing on his eye with a cotton pad to remove the makeup that was applied on him.

You scowl, swatting his hand away to berate him for causing wrinkles so early on as he huffs at your adamancy.

"Don't ignore me," He pokes your side as you sigh.

"Then don't overthink it, okay? It was for the picture." You grumble, eyes focused on the bits and bobs of makeup tools at the vanity inside the changing rooms.

You can feel Jimin's stare on you, as well as how hard he thinks. Call it a sibling intuition, but you knew exactly when he was overanalysing situations, and you felt that at this exact moment.

"You know you have to speak to him eventually, right?" Jimin says after a while.

You freeze, fingers pausing as you tap against the table. Your eyes meet Jimin's through the mirror and you know he's serious, his expression says it all. But he wasn't there when it happened, and he wasn't you to feel how it felt.

"I went for ten years without talking to him. Another ten won't be hard." You clip.

Jimin sighs, turning his body to face you as you keep your shoulders towards him. It feels very much like when you were younger when Jimin sat you down to lecture you about your behaviour, or reprimanding you for doing certain things to keep you safe.

But it's vastly different. You're twenty-eight now, and you no longer took Jimin's words as the word of God, and he knew that.

"I don't know what exactly what went down between the two of you but according to Jin—"

"And you don't need to. It's been ages, Jimin. I've moved on." You snap.

Jimin purses his lips, seeing the way you're beginning to draw up all your walls against him again. It makes his heart clench because there was a time where you would have told him everything, where you would have confided him when you were having troubles. But he knew he ruined that relationship himself, and even if it's been over a decade since that fight the two of you had, the scar of the experience would always be there to haunt you both.

He knew you didn't hold it against him anymore, but he also recognised the way you'd subtly pull away sometimes, the reason why you never visited as often as you said you would in your infrequent phone calls.

"I'm just ..." He mumbles, looking at you earnestly but you don't return the stare, "I'm worried, ______."

You scoff.

"You don't need to. I won't cause a scene at your wedding, okay? I—I'm not like that ..." You start off strong, but finish in a soft whisper.

Jimin's eyes soften when he reaches a hand to rest against your shoulder.

"That's not what I meant." He sighs.

"Whatever it is that you meant just ... forget it, okay? I'm a grown-up now. I'm not your baby sister anymore." You tell him.

He flinches at the bluntness of your words but knows that you don't mean any harm to them. It was the truth that he had a hard time accepting, especially when he could've been there for you more during the years of university and the beginning of your work-life.

"I ..." Jimin trails off.

You sigh, turning around to finally face him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," You wince, "It's just that ... you don't need to worry about my battles anymore, Jimin. I've learnt how to deal with them on my own and you have your own set of things to worry about. I'll always be your sister, and nothing will change that—but I'm just not the same, impressionable girl I was a decade ago."

Jimin bites his lip as he mulls over your words, a fact hard for him to accept but nevertheless, he must. He always had the tendency to be overprotective and possessive, whether it be of his relationships, activities or belongings—it was an ugly trait that got the best of him from time to time.

He knew deep down, that he played a part in why you and Jin are so sour with each other, and he can't easily get rid of that guilt.

"I know, I know," He exhales, "If that's the case then ..."

You raise an eyebrow, willing him to continue.

"Then?"

"Don't let me be the reason why you can't fight your battles," He tells you softly.

Your expression remains stoic, but you internally agree with what he says. You'd never blame Jimin, and you knew it was irrational to do so—but the ugly feeling of needing someone to blame that wasn't yourself or Jin was dominant in your conscious.

"I promise." You smile at him extending your pinky finger out, and he grins at the old ritual the two of you would do as kids.

"Good." He ruffles your hair, and you glare at him when he messes up your up-do that Isabelle spent a long time on.

"Dude!" You whine, but he snickers at your reaction.

"Ah, can't believe that I'm getting married in a week." He adds as he stares at the ceiling.

You smile to yourself and nod your head in agreement.

"Remember when you told me you were going to marry Hana?" You snort.

He grimaces, the memories of his college self resurfacing at the reminder of his ex-girlfriend's name.

"Thank God you snapped me out of it," He whistles lowly, "She was fucking insane."

You chuckle at that because Jimin sure had a type, and it was the insane girls with daddy issues. Even Risa was a little crazy but she had a good heart to make up for it.

"It seems to be a trend with you." You shrug your shoulders.

He narrows his eyes at you and flicks you on the forehead before he glances down at his watch to curse under his breath.

"Fuck. I have a meeting at the office," He groans.

Your lips tilt upwards at his distraught as you pat him on the shoulder, gesturing him to leave.

"Don't worry. I'll find my way home."

"Are you sure—"

"Yes, Jimin—I'm sure. Now leave before they find a new CEO." You quip teasingly.

He thanks you, and presses a kiss onto your forehead before he scampers off, grabbing at his coat before he's out the door.

Once he's out of the room, you sigh to yourself; suddenly oddly nostalgic at your childhood, up to teenage memories as you and Jimin were speaking about it.

You purse your lips, unable to get Jin out of your head even when you look back to all the fun times you had as a teenager because he's always been there ... until he wasn't.

You wince, remembering the day it happened so clearly.

The smell of burnt something pricks the air and you only have yourself to blame.

You curse when you see clouds of black smoke escaping the small vents of your oven, the shady proof of how horrible you were at baking even if it was for a cause that resonated deeply in your heart.

You were thankful that your mom wasn’t home to witness your blunder because she surely would have yapped your ear off for trusting your clumsy self in the kitchen, let alone baking a recipe that was far out of your skill range.

“Why does it smell like—_____, really?” Jimin’s voice enters your thoughts as he ascends down the stairs of your home to spot you hastily fanning the smoke away with your mittens.

“Can you shut up and help me?” You hiss.

He laughs, loud and clear as he clutches his stomach to control his body.

“Dude—why?” He wheezes.

You chuck one of the mittens at him when he finally enters the kitchen, body moving at its own accord to get the trash bin along with the mitten that you threw at him while he pushes your body aside.

“Jin’s leaving tomorrow so I thought I would make some of his favourite shortbreads …” You mutter.

Jimin gracefully plucks out the burnt batch of shortbread and chucks it into the waste bin as you pout at your efforts being thrown away.

“And you didn’t bother asking for help when you know he gets his shortbread’s from a bakery?” He deadpans.

You roll your eyes and wipe your hands on your apron as you sigh.

“Look—I wasn’t thinking and now I don’t have anything to give him before he leaves!” You pout.

Jimin eyes you suspiciously and raises an eyebrow as he leans against the counter to observe your sullen expression.

“So? It’s not like he’d care.”

You glare at him.

“Well—I care.” You retort.

Jimin is silent for a moment before his eyes widen, his body inching closer to yours as if he found out something that he needed to tell you.

“Do you … do you like Jin?” Jimin gasps.

Your eyes widen, cheeks reddening simultaneously as you quickly shake your head to deny the fact—even though your heart and face betray you.

“W-What?” You squeak, “Of course not! It’s just a nice gesture to send him off.”

Jimin scoffs and narrows his eyes at you accusingly.

“Then why did you go out of your way to bake him something he likes when you know you’re hopeless in the kitchen?”

You roll your eyes, hoping your nonchalance plays off well enough to distract Jimin from the way your handshakes at the prospect of being caught.

“He’s my friend, Jimin. I do nice things for my friends sometimes.”

Jimin looks like he doesn’t believe you, and you wish that for one moment he wouldn’t use his brain to overthink your words or the sibling telepathy he claims to have to unravel your heart’s true intentions.

“He’s my best friend. Aren’t I supposed to be the one doing all of …” He gestures to the mess of the kitchen you left it in, “… this?”

“Well you don’t own him and you definitely don’t pick who Jin’s friends with. So fuck off will you?” You snap.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you.

“He’s five years older than you.” He reminds you slowly.

You sigh, busying yourself with cleaning up the kitchen counter.

“And? You’re two years older than me but you don’t see me condemning our sibling-ship.” You retort.

“That’s not what I meant,” He groans, “He doesn’t need a kid having a crush on him, okay? He’s off to university.”

The way Jimin uses the word ‘kid’ doesn’t sit well with you, as if to tell you that you were inferior to him and Jin because you were younger than him. But you weren’t far off, and heck, you’d argue that you were far more mature than your brother or any of his friends.

“I’m graduating high school this year.” You sneer.

“And Jin is off to university!” He exasperates.

“I don’t know what your problem is because I—don’t—have—a—crush—on—him!” You emphasise with a shove of your finger to his chest with every word.

“You better not because that’ll be weird. I don’t need my sister crushing on my best friend.” He scrunches his nose when he says that.

The drop of your heart is inevitable, but you’ve long decided that you don’t live your life to please Jimin anymore, and what you wanted what was what mattered.

“Yeah, yeah,” You wave him off, chucking the last bit of your dishes into the sink before you glance over at the clock.

“Tell mom I’ll be out!” You say, throwing off your apron as you quickly check your appearance when you grab for your car keys.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asks.

You glare at him, slipping on your shoes as quickly as you possibly can before you call out to him, halfway out the door:

“Jin’s!”

“Oh, hey _____.” Jin is surprised when you turn up on his doorstep.

“Hey yourself,” You smile, stepping in after you’ve slipped your shoes off.

“What … what are you doing here?” He asks when the two of you make your way up to his room, after offering a greeting to his parents and brother in the kitchen.

You flop on to the beanbag at the corner of his room and give him a knowing stare.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” You say.

He nods his head, understanding as he glances around his barren room, most of his belongings packed away in his luggage.

“Are you here to say goodbye?” He teases.

You scoff.

“I suppose.” You shrug, “There was supposed to be shortbread too but …”

He laughs, a sound that you’ve come to adore, even as a young girl you always thought Jin was the funniest person ever. When Jimin would argue that he was funnier, you’d always jump to defend Jin’s ability to make you laugh instead.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” He says to you, plopping down to sit across from you.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving.” You sigh, resting your head against the plushness of the beanbag.

Jin snorts.

“Why does it sound like I’m never coming back?” He jokes.

“Well, for starters, you’re going to be in a completely different time-zone. Two, flight tickets get super expensive during the holiday season’s so I doubt you’d be back. And three—you’d probably make cool university friends keep you company so that you wouldn’t wanna’ come back anyways.”

Jin looks at you, lips twitching upwards as you complain.

“You … you thought that through, huh?”

You roll your eyes, chucking a figurine in his direction.

“Just, promise to call?” You whisper.

He smiles softly at you and nods.

“Course’. I’ll ring Jimin up and we can all talk.”

You blink at his choice of words, afraid he’s misunderstood your point.

“I mean … you can call me …” You mutter.

Jin pauses for a moment, before catching himself and chuckling softly under his breath.

“Wouldn’t that be kind of weird …?”

His choice of words only reminds you of Jimin’s tone when he warned you against your apparent (but very present) crush on Jin.

“Why would it be weird?” You tilt your head to the side.

He snorts at your question and you frown because you don’t understand what aspect of it was funny at all.

“Come on, you’re Jimin’s baby sister. If I called you it would seem predatorial, won’t it? I’m literally five years older than you.”

You don’t think he means to sound condescending, but the tone of his words definitely come across that way. You bite your tongue to not say anything rash just yet, as you take a deep breath before you respond.

“We’re friends … and I turn eighteen in June.” You remind him about your birthday coming in two months.

He shrugs.

“Yes but it’s still weird. It would just seem like we’re together, you know?”

His words make you freeze, eyes widening at his implication.

“Would that be such a bad thing …?” You whisper, and the words leave your mouth before you can think twice.

Jin hears you loud and clear, and his eyes widen. You see his body tense and the way he shifts away from you ever-so-slightly that it makes your heart drop.

“_____ … I don’t …” He tries to navigate the topic, but your eyes are bored straight on his face and it flusters him.

“You’re a kid, _____. I don’t date kids.” He snaps, deciding to opt for a defensive approach.

The demeaning term sets you off as you feel anger bubble through your system in bursts of hotness.

“I’m not a fucking kid!” You snap, and his eyes widen at your tone.

“Woah, calm down—”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” You lash out, “I’m not some dumb or naive child that doesn’t know what’s right or wrong, okay? I’m turning eighteen this year—and I—I thought you were better than this. How could you be so shallow?”

Jin scoffs.

“Shallow? _____,” He deadpans, “You’re just turning eighteen and I’m twenty-three. That’s a whole five-year difference. I don’t think you’re dumb but the thought of dating you right after you turn eighteen is just …” He shudders.

You still.

You didn’t know Jin could hurt you so much with just words, but he did just that. He didn’t need to say much, but you felt every sting that came with his intentions.

“Who said anything about dating?” You ask hoarsely, “I just said to call me.”

Jin softens a little, turning to face you as he sighs.

“_____ … I know you have a crush on me and—”

You’re absolutely mortified when he exposes you out in the open like that, the truth left out for both of you to mull over; but even worse for you as you were the one that was on the plank.

“Why does everyone keep saying that!” You snap, embarrassment crawling up your neck as you avoid his gaze, attempting to deflect.

“—I don’t need you waiting for me when I’m off to university. I’ll be fucking around a lot and you don’t deserve that.”

You gape at him, stunned at his audacity.

“Do you think I’m that pathetic?” You laugh, but there’s no humour in it.

“What? No—”

“Oh, you so do, Kim Seokjin,” You snarl, “Do you think I would wait for you? To live out some stupid fairytale? Yes—I have a crush on you but that’s all there is to it—a fucking crush!” You yell.

His eyes widen, attempting to reach out for you to calm you down, but you shift away.

“I’m not asking for your hand in marriage but just for a fucking phone call. I’m not even asking you to like me back!” You throw your hands into the air.

“But you’re implying it! Why else would I call some girl that I’m only friends with cause' of her brother if I didn’t like her?”

That’s all it takes for silence to overtake the both of you, your mouth stunned shut as your eyes widen at his words.

“What?” You choke.

It’s like Jin is blinded by the need to defend himself, a carnal desire to protect his own heart to make him feel less like a weirdo about the way his best friend’s little sister makes him feel. An odd feeling he never wanted to acknowledge until he acknowledged you.

“I mean exactly what I said, ____,” He spits so vehemently that he doesn’t recognise himself, “All you do is follow us around like some helpless puppy because of what—your crush on me? Get over it because I’ll never like you.”

You freeze, and your heart does too.

“Do you think I willingly talk to you? It’s because of Jimin! You’re his baby sister. What else could I do? Tell you to fuck off?” He snaps.

Your lip trembles but you will yourself not to cry in front of him. Not this boy who thinks of you that way, as someone’s baby sister rather than who you were.

“You don’t need to tell me anything,” You say, oddly calm, but your glassy eyes are what snaps Jin out of it.

“Wait … ____,” He sighs.

“I’ll fuck off myself, all right?” You grit, pushing yourself off the beanbag before you’re storming out of his room.

Jin doesn’t bother chasing after you because he’s mulling over his words, absolutely disgusted with what he said. His parents and brother miss you when you’re out the door crying.

Jimin doesn’t even ask how you were.

“Oh—”

It’s like he’s always there at your most vulnerable moments.

Jin is hovering by the entrance of the changing room awkwardly, his limbs too long for the tight space.

He startles you out of your reminiscent state as you clutch the robe to your chest, acutely aware of the fact that you were in nothing but your bra and underwear underneath it.

You flush, avoiding his eyes, afraid that if you looked at them; all you would remember is what he said to you.

“It’s fine,” You parrot the words he said to you earlier, and quickly pack your belongings, and casual clothes into a bag to make your way out back into your hotel room.

As you brush past him, he stops you with his voice.

“______.”

You freeze, hands still tightly gripping your robe as you feel his eyes rake over your body. You feel both exposed and safe, because once upon a time—Jin was the person that could comfort you the most.

“Yes?” You say in a clipped tone.

You hear him sigh, and you’re about to leave until he interrupts you again.

“How are you?”

You nearly scoff at the mediocre question he poses when the situation between the two of you is anything but. The question seems so out of place when the room is so tense, the ghost of his words here to haunt you both.

“Good.” Is all you respond with before you try to leave.

He grabs you by the elbow, gently, but enough for you to fall against his chest, his arms reaching around to grab you before you fall.

The opening to your robe falls a bit, and his eyes dart away out of respect as you quickly shove it closed with reddened ears.

“What do you want?” You snap.

He winces at your hostility but doesn’t blame you for it.

“I just wanted to catch up with you,” He shrugs.

Now, you scoff. It’s because Jin is still so irrevocably him, that in any other circumstance you’d smile in fondness at his ability to make any situation simple as if there wasn’t history between the two of you.

“Do you now?” You say blandly, “What do you want to know? I’m still Jimin’s baby sister if you were wondering.” You say bitterly.

Jin freezes and sighs when you bring it up; alluding to what he said to you that night years ago.

“Actually … I wanted to apologise,” He confesses.

At that, you still.

Apologise?

Did you need an apology? Wasn’t that what usually fixed conflict?

But no, an apology wasn’t going to fix the years of insecurity that you were left with when he was gone, always nitpicking at your flaws and your identity; wondering if it were really only an extension of your older brother.

Even though you were older, and somewhat more rational—there was still a part of you that wanted to blame Jin for your insecurities, even though you knew that was a war between you and yourself.

“For what? Calling me an extension of my brother or that our friendship was to please Jimin?” You snarl.

He winces and releases the hold he has on your elbow as he rubs his hand across his face.

“I was young and—”

You scoff.

“Young? I thought you were too old back then? Where was this energy ten years ago?”

His eyes narrow at you, and he noticed that you definitely grew a backbone—and a mouth. It was inappropriate still, to think of you any other way right now when he was attempting to apologise to you.

But your beauty was dangerous, and you’ve always been a pretty thing; even when you were growing up. The truth he uttered a decade ago was somewhat the truth still, he felt way too … old to be with you, even if his heart begged for him to keep you close.

“I don’t know why I said the things I did, _____.” He sighs.

You turn around, face contorted with every emotion you’ve been withholding since that fateful night.

“Let me tell you then,” You shove a finger into his chest.

“You’re pathetic,” You spit, hoping to hurt him as much as he’s hurt you.

His eyes widen when you lean in closer.

“You liked me too and you had no fucking clue what to do about it, so you pushed me away the one night I asked for a small favour. You wanted to protect yourself because you’re too in your head thinking that your feelings matter more than anyone else’s, am I right Jin?”

“_______ …”

“Shut up,” You snap.

He does, and he sees the fire in your eyes burn brighter.

“You thought you were the only one that was struggling with their emotions but guesses what—you weren’t,” You whisper, “I was too. And I pushed it aside every moment I spent with you because I knew that it wasn’t my position to decide for you if you liked me or not.”

His hand reaches out to cup your face, something instinctual inside of him told him to do so—wanting to hold you close. To his surprise, you don’t pull away. Your features soften, but you haven’t done your piece just yet.

“But you … you decided for me.” You say softly, “You showed me how much of a piece of shit you were that night.”

Jin’s eyes widen, and the words hurt—but nothing compared to how he felt when you blocked him everywhere, even to go as far to tell Jimin to never mention your name to him.

It sucked for the first two years, but eventually as you went to college and university, you unblocked him. Was it out of spite to let him see how well you were doing? Or the boyfriend that you had?

Maybe.

“_____, I’m sorry.”

Here he was, at thirty-four years old, apologising to you much like a man would—and you can’t help but admire his face when you lean in, heart willing yourself to act rather than your rationale.

“I forgave you a long time ago,” You say.

It seems that you shock him more and more with each second that passes. You weren’t the same girl you were a decade ago, but yet traces of you still lingered in your features, your smile, your voice and your words. It was just you, but older.

“It was for me.” You tell him softly and he nods his head in understanding, cupping your jaw.

“You have no idea how much I regret that night, ______.” He whispers.

You purse your lips.

“What will regret bring you, Jin? A do-over?”

This time he goes silent to observe your face. It’s no longer the same cold stare you’ve been giving him the entire day or the fact that you’ve been ignoring his presence until he found you tucked away in the changing room—a tip-off from Jimin.

“No but … you’re right,” He tells you, “I wanted to protect myself and it was selfish. I can’t change what I said or did but I’m here now and—my heart is still the same.”

“Ten years change people, Jin. I’ve changed and so did you. Maybe you liked the girl I was when I was eighteen but I’m nowhere near in the same mind-space I was back then.” You tell him.

Even though your own heart betrays you by beating rapidly against your chests the closer the holds you, you knew that acting out of your rationale would only end up with you being hurt yet again. You forgave Jin … sure you did. But ten years was far too long to accept the fact he may feel the same.

“I know but I couldn’t forget you, not when I was in university and not when I started working.” He confesses, eyes burning into your own.

You purse your lips and stand your ground. A hand reaches to clasp his, slowly pushing it away from your face as you sigh. You notice the crestfallen expression on his face, but you don’t comment on it.

“I forgave you but that doesn’t mean I forgot what you said to me that night …” You tell him, “I know I was young and that you aren’t responsible for my insecurities but you told me every single thing that I was terrified of.”

His eyes soften but ensuring he kept his distance when you slightly pull away.

“_____—” He sighs.

“No, Jin,” You tell him firmly, “You were the person that mended Jimin and I’s relationship so you knew how much it ruined me to believe that I was nothing but a product of his aspirations. That I had nothing for myself but who my brother was. I struggled so much to find my footing as a teenager and I didn’t even know what I liked and didn’t like it because the lines were so blurred between my own interests and Jimin’s.”

Suddenly, he sees a little glimpse of the girl when you were eighteen peakings through your exterior. You still sounded a little unsure of yourself, words shaking ever so slightly.

“And for the person to tell me that I was more than just Park Jimin’s sister to … to …” You swallow, the words stuck in your throat because as much as forgiving Jin was for him as it was to you, the words still haunt your mind.

“To say that I was just an extension of my brother?” You whisper, “I didn’t know who I was then but I lost who I tried to be when you said that.”

Jin bites his lip, feeling awful. But he knew that he had no right to feel like he was the one that was hurt when his words plagued your mind for years.

“Whatever your feelings are at this moment …” You trail off, clutching your belongings to your chest, ready to leave without another glance, “They’re just your guilt telling you to hold on to something you didn’t get closure with.”

You look over at him once more, a solemn expression on your face.

“This is your closure, Jin.”

You leave without sparing him another glance, and the man stands in the empty changing room feeling a lot different. He thought he’d amended things, but when you leave, it feels as bad as it had been ten years ago.

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shipskicksandgiggles · 3 years ago

Note

omg 30 with harley and peter pretty please? <33

y’all fucking saw that prompt list and had the same thought and I respect that

prompt: hey bud. I didn't mean to reveal that I can read minds but I gotta know what in the actual hell is going on in your head, do you live like this? always??

Read Saw it in the Movies here on ao3

~~~

He wasn’t born with the ability to read minds. At least, he didn’t think he was.

The truth is, he couldn’t remember much from before New York.

Well, that was sort of a lie. He remembers Tennessee a little bit, and his mom vaguely. He thinks he might have had a sister. He knows he was adopted. That’s why he has a different last name from his dad, because once all this was over, he might be able to go home. Still, his dad-

“Hey, is it cool if I go to the movies with Harry?”

“Is your homework done?”

“Mostly. I just need to edit that English paper, but our teacher says we do better if we take a break between finishing and revising it.”

“Then I don’t see why you can’t. Do you need any money for tickets or snacks?”

“I think I still have some left over from my last birthday. Harry, he says we can go!”

Harry Osborn popped his head out from where he was hiding. “Thanks Mr. Stark!”

“Don’t mention it, kid. Say hello to your father for me when you see him.”

“You got it, Mr. Stark. Come on Harley, let’s get going.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

When he first started being able to read minds, there was no going to the movies. There were no friends. There wasn’t anything really. Just a dark, soundproof room, and a lot of doctors.

Now he could filter out everyone else's thoughts. They were still there, but it was more like a quiet buzzing that he could block out instead of the hurricane of noise he used to feel.

The movies are one of his favorite places to go because most people have similar thoughts, and Harley doesn’t have to focus so hard on dampening them.

“Hey, wait a second kiddo.” Harry was already out the door when his dad stopped him.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. You’re okay, right?”

“Never better.”

“Good. Don’t stay out too late please. My new intern is coming in to train tomorrow, and I want you to meet him.”

“Okay. What time is he getting here?”

“He should be here around 10am. You don’t have to be in the lab then, but just come down before he leaves please.”

“Sure. And I promise I’ll be on my best behavior. I won’t even try to read his thoughts like I did with the last guy.”

“I appreciate that. As much as I like not having a spy in my lab, I also like avoiding people finding out about your abilities via insane scandals. Now go, your friend is waiting.”

“Thanks dad!” He ran to meet Harry, who was waiting patiently by the elevator.

“Did you dad want something?”

“It was just about some work stuff, nothing to worry about. Seriously, if we don’t leave now, we’re going to miss the movie.”

~~~

Movie theaters were Harley’s favorite place in the world next to his dad’s lab. Being enveloped in a large, dark space felt safe, and he loved the general excitement it seemed to radiate.

Basically, it was the ideal place to let go for once.

“Are we thinking action or horror?”

“Action,” Harley replied immediately. As much as he loved the movies, scary ones always brought out the worst thoughts in people.

“Predictable. Two for Batman please?” Harry addressed the box office attendant.

“We could always go see a rom-com.”

“Why do you hate me?”

Harley took his ticket with a snort. “Because you’re my best friend. It’s, like, a legal requirement.”

“Fair enough. The opening credits should start rolling soon.”

As they settled into their seats, Harley waited for the lights to dim, closed his eyes, and opened his mind to the people around him. It was so nice to just relax for once.

“You’re not going to fall asleep again, are you?” Harry asked. “I will stop going to the movies with you if you keep doing this.”

“No, I just love the feeling of the sound coming up. Try it.”

“You’re so weird, man,” he said, but complied regardless. “Now what?”

“Shhh.”

Moments later, the speakers rang to life, and Harley tapped into the positivity around him.

Harry grunted. “I guess you win this round, Keener.”

“Always do, Osborn.”

They quieted down to watch the movie, and Harley let it roll over him. Maybe he needed to take breaks like these more often.

~~~

But of course all good things must come to an end, so obviously he woke up the next morning with a migraine.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He had shit to do that day and a migraine was going to make everything awful.

When he got migraines, he couldn’t control the thought flow as well, and that made for all sorts of problems. Usually when this happened, he locked himself in his room and didn’t come out until it was over, but he made a promise.

He slowly eased himself out of bed and got dressed, keeping the lights off the whole time. It took some time since pretty much everything hurt, but he managed.

Walking with his eyes closed wasn’t really an option, but he used the wall to guide himself to the elevator and slumped inside. He was able to hit the down button, and let himself be carried downwards, trying his best to hold himself up on the hand rails.

The lab doors opened automatically upon his approach, and he glanced up quickly to see a boy hunched over a work station, clearly absorbed in whatever he was doing.

Thank god, Harley thought. If he’s focused, his thoughts won’t hurt.

Then he walked through the door and was met with a wall of chaos.

Somehow, his dad’s new intern had Star Wars quotes, Star Trek theories, equations for quantum theory, and the chemical equations for his own work all in his head, along with things Harley could never begin to decipher.

“Hey, you must be Harley.” The guy noticed him. “I’m Peter- hey are you alright?”

“Headache,” he gasped, trying not to pass out as his voice bounced around inside Harley’s skull.

“Should I call someone?”

“My dad- Tony,” he stuttered. “Is he-?”

“Shh, shh, hey it’s okay. I’ll get him, you’re alright.”

Harley thought heard him start to yell ‘Mr. Stark!’, but before he saw whether or not his dad was there, he collapsed, and everything went dark.

~~~

He came to in a hospital bed with a handsome man he didn’t know sitting in the chair next to him, holding his hand.

“What happened?” he groaned.

“You’re awake,” the person said. “Thank god. I mean, we didn’t think you were going to die or anything, but you just keeled over. Is that normal for you?”

“Pretty safe to say it’s not,” he snorted humorlessly. “Peter, right?”

“Yeah. This isn’t really how I expected to meet you.”

“I'm with you. Talk about bad first impressions.”

“I’ve seen worse. Seriously though, are you okay?”

“I am now. Sometimes I get these nasty migraines, and it got so much worse when I walked into the lab because-” he froze.

“Because what?”

“Okay, listen, I barely know you and I don’t usually tell people this, but I can sort of read minds, and dude, what the actual hell is going on in your head? Do you live like this?”

Peter blinked at him. “I… do.”

“That sucks. You should really get that checked out.”

“You can read minds?”

“Yeah.”

“How?”

Harley shrugged.

“What am I thinking now?”

He really didn’t want to subject himself to Peter’s brain again, but his headache was gone, so it should be all right. Harley reached out with his mind to tap into Peter’s, only to discover that the buzz was no longer there.

“I don’t know,” he laughed.

“But you said-”

“I know what I said. Hold on.” He focused harder on it, and sure enough it was gone. “Holy shit, it’s finally gone,” he said gleefully. “Dad!”

“You’re awake! We were worried about you.”

“Dad, I can’t hear thoughts anymore!”

“What?”

“I can’t read anybody else’s thoughts! I’ve tried, they’re just not there anymore.”

“How can that be possible?”

“I don’t know. Maybe his thoughts overloaded my circuits or something. It makes sense since they’re the last ones I read.”

He squinted at Peter. “Do I want to know what’s going on in there?”

“No you don’t,” he and Harley said in unison.

“Noted. I’m going to go get the doctor. You might need to go in for a CT scan and an MRI, but if you can’t hear thoughts anymore, that’s good news.”

With that he walked out, and the room lapsed into silence.

Harley leaned back in the bed, reveling in the quiet.

“How long were you able to do that?”

“So long,” Harley said without opening his eyes. “It’s been years.”

“Wow.”

“I’m not going to miss it, that’s for sure.”

They listened to the bustle of doctors and nurses outside for a while until Harley spoke again.

“Hey, I know we just met, but can I ask you something?”

He stirred in his uncomfortable hospital chair. “Sure.”

“Why were you holding my hand when I woke up?”

“I don’t know, you see it in the movies all the time, so I just thought, you know…”

Harley burst out laughing. “Oh man, that’s amazing. Maybe once I’m out of here, you can hold my hand for real, all right?”

Peter grinned. “I think we could make that happen.”

#ellis writes #parkner #harley keener #peter parker #hurt/comfort #little bit of fluff #mind reading #chaotic thoughts #prompts #anon

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tsunderecookies · 4 years ago

Text

Horny HC

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader, Midoriya x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Shinso x Reader, Hawks x Reader

Warnings: nsfw subjects, choking, spanking, spitting, hair pulling, language as vulgar as my mind, degrading, daddy kink.

A/N: Count on me to make my first ever post spicy. All characters mentioned in this are aged up to 21+. I hope y'all enjoy reading this. (Also i made these headers myself - not the chibis - so sorry if they shit, I tried :)))

Requests are open. Please send lol, imma run out of ideas.

So for my first set of hc I took the 5 heroes I had the most ideas for but I’ll definitely do hc’s for the rest as well. Also i love the villians so lmk if you guys want me to do a part 2 of this for them or any of the other heroes!

This man

This.Man.

He's gonna blow your back out. No cap.

I mean you see the way he treats his friends, you can't tell me he won't be daddy in bed.

Speaking of Daddy. Authority kink. It's either Sir, Daddy or Master. Katsuki has left the chat.

Bakugou is in charge, and you sure as fuck better know it. If not, he won't hesitate to remind you, teaching you a lesson you won't forget anytime soon.

100% brat tamer.

Bakugou loves putting you back in your place when you step out of line. He lives for the sound of your pleas and apologies as he reminds you of where you belong; on your knees right in front of him. ( that sounded so sexist pls don't come for me )

Punishments come in the form of spanking and edging for hours on end. He's not scared to manhandle you.

You gasp at the harsh feeling of your back slamming against the wall, the feeling of Bakugous hand slipping around your throat sending a wave of arousal straight to your core.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

"I said make me.... Daddy." A cheeky smile makes it onto your face as you repeat your words, but just as fast as it appeared it vanishes at the feeling of his hand tightening around your throat.

" Oh princess, you never learn do you?"

His favorite positions includes him hitting it from the back - he loves how he can just push your head into the mattress or lean his chest against your back to whisper dirty things in your ear. Not to mention the fact that he can grab your hair and pull your back flush against his chest as he tilts your head back so you can look at him while he rails you- and missionary with both your legs over his shoulders. He loves seeing the facial expressions you make while he presses his hand down onto your throat, his cock hitting places inside you you didn't know existed.

Definitely not afraid of quickies. He loves the adventure and danger that comes with the possibility of anyone being able to walk in on you at any possible moment.

Dirty talk: on fucking point.

" You like that baby? Yeah? You like it when daddy fucks you hard like this hmm? Tell me how much you love this. Tell me how much you like daddy pounding into you like this."

You know that kinda whiney type dirty talk tone? Like where their words are kinda dragged out and kinda high pitched? Yes. Yes.

Absolutely fucking loves when you can't speak. He loves how your words can barely slip out in between your moans and gasps, how absolutely dumb you are for his cock.

100% degrader.

Change my mind. You can't.

"That's right baby, yes - fuck. Take that cock. Take that fat cock like the slut you are."

"You like that you whore? You like it when daddy tells you how slutty you look all needy for his cock?"

This man is not afraid to mark you up. Good luck covering up those hickeys the next morning because its impossible. He wants everyone to know you belong to him, and you can bet your pretty ass that he has a shit eating grin on his face when someone notices them.

You can bet he has a shit eating grin on his face later when you try to confront him about it. He’ll also have some smart ass remark.

I can definitely see Bakugo having angry post argument sex. By the time he tosses you onto bed and crawls onto you the cause of the argument is long forgotten, the only thing going through his mind being how he's going to fuck the attitude out of you.

Absolutely loves it if you're loud. He wants everyone to know he's the one making you feel that good and that he's the only one who could make you scream like that.

" That's right princess, let the whole fucking city know who's making you feel this good!"

Definitely gonna have a ton of noise complaints, especially from your roommates if you have any. ( idk why but i picture katsuki sharing an apartment w kiri, sero and denki )

Bakugo isn't really a moan typpa guy, but god he will draw out the sexiest and unholiest groans and growls from the back of his throat.

I also feel like he's the type of guy that guides you through giving him head, telling you exactly how to suck his cock before he just grabs a fist full of your hair and ends up fucking your face.

We all know Bakugou is an overachiever, and this reflects during sex. He wants to make you cum as many times as possible using his tongue and fingers before he sticks his dick in you.

He isn't as romantic as Shoto with aftercare but he definitely takes care of you. He makes sure to go pee as well as make you go before turning on the shower for you both, adjusting the temperature to your liking.

He loves washing your hair for you in hopes that you'd do the same for him. He secretly loves the feeling of your fingertips massaging his scalp but would never admit it.

He's not super lovey dovey after, but he makes sure to let you know that you're appreciated.

"Love you, dumbass."

"Love you too, Katsuki."

All in all, you're in for a good dicking down.

I feel like this boy pours so much passion into it.

Especially with his history with his parents. The lack of love during his childhood definitely shows during moments like these.

With him it's always making love, its never just fucking. Sex to him isn't just an activity to get off or procreate ( cough Endeavour cough) its a show of both your love for each other, a moment for your bodies to become one.

Your pleasure definitely comes first to him. He would want to get you off at least a couple of times before even thinking of himself.

Shoto also struggles with expressing his emotions so this is a way for him to show you how he feels physically rather that having to convey it verbally.

He's all about the physical contact.

He definitely holds your hands during and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

His favourite position is missionary. He loves the closeness, how he can look into your eyes and feel your shaky breathing while he moves inside you.

It's either that or you on top with him sitting upright with your bodies pressed together. He loves how close he can hold you. His one hand intertwining with your hair as he presses your head closer to his, the other around your back, occasionally moving down to you hip to help you grind down onto him.

Loves the feeling of your chest against his as he slowly moves between your hips, head resting against your shoulder as his hot breath fans over your skin.

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours.

"I love you so much angel, you're so beautiful like this."

He's also the type to light candles and have rose petals everywhere on special occasions.

But just because he makes love to you, doesn't mean he can't rearrange your insides while doing so.

Just hot, sweaty, nasty, rough sex.

But with love <3

Even during the rougher moments he makes sure to show you how much he loves you and how much you mean to him.

He'd have his hand all tangled in your hair, some of the unholiest noises leaving his throat as he takes you from behind. His eyes not leaving yours in the mirror placed in front of you.

"Fuck. You feel so good baby - just like that, yeah - look at me princess."

He's very observant. He takes note of the things the drive you crazy so he can work your body even better next time.

Because sex is something more intimate for him I don't think he'd be into sex in public/semi public areas.

He doesn't want anyone else to see the gorgeous expressions on your face while you're at your most vulnerable, or the heavenly sounds that leave your soft lips for him.

I wouldn't go as far as to say he's possessive, but this is definitely something he views as for his eyes only.

He’s not a very big fan of quickies for the simple fact that he likes to take his time with your body and give you as much pleasure as possible rather than just get you both off. He’d much rather prefer waiting for you both to get home and properly take care of you.

Shoto isn't really vocal in bed, but his pleasure will still be conveyed through his shaky intake off breath and the ways his face scrunches up when you clench around him.

He definitely marks you.

Loves marking you as his on your most delicate and intimate parts, painting your chest and inner thighs as his.

He loves trailing his hand over them, rubbing soft circles on the hickeys with his thumb. To him this is proof of the beautiful moment you guys spent together.

The most passionate sex that you both have would definitely be when shoto comes back from a long business trip, his hand could never compare to your body. He definitely plans on making up for lost time, keeping you in his sheets for as long as possible.

And can i just say

The aftercare

Top tier.

He definitely runs you both a hot bath afterwards.

Candles, bubble bath and your favourite bath bomb. The works.

Definitely wants to carry you but won't do so if you feel uncomfortable about it.

He slips in behind you so you're sat between his thighs, his one hand interlacing with yours while the other softly caresses your stomach.

Sets up a little cuddle corner next to the fireplace so you guys can enjoy a movie before falling asleep in each others arms.

Sweet baby boi.

One word: shy.

Izuku knows what sex is and what happens during this intimate act. He’s also watched porn a couple of times so he knows the basics behind it.

But that doesn’t stop him from shape shifting into a fucking tomato every time you start undressing in front of him.

When you both first started becoming intimate you definitely had to make all the first moves and initiate it all because he was too shy and nervous to do it himself.

Even if he was horny as can be and needed you more than anything he’d rather suffer in silence than tell you or ask you to help him out.

He’s definitely not afraid to ask you how to work your body right. Deku knows that not everyone's bodies work the same and that what might have felt good for someone else won’t exactly work for you. So he asks. He asks you how to work your body right and he’ll keep this in mind for future reference.

He marks you but not as much as the others. He’ll litter them on more intimate places both because he doesn’t want to embarrass or inconvenience you and because he’s the only other one he wants to be able to see em. He’ll also get really blushy when he spots them.

This man 100% has a praise kink. He loves knowing how good he’s making you feel and won’t hesitate to let you know as well.

No matter how many times you’ve been intimate before he’ll always tell you how beautiful you look, how much he loves you and how much he can’t wait to make you feel good.

As time goes by and you give him more praise he’ll become more confident intimately.

I can’t really see Izuku having any hard kinks for the simple fact that he doesn’t like the idea of hurting you in any way, especially intentionally.

Like if you were to ask him to choke you or something he’d do it beacause he wants to please you but it would still be the softest shit you have ever experienced. Like for example he’d have his hand around your throat but he wouldn't add any pressure and his hand would barely graze your ass when he attempts to spank you.

He would be down for quickies but he’d be a nervous wreck about em. He’d constantly worry about getting caught and won’t shut up so you’ll just have to make him ;)

“Zuku don’t worry we’ll be fine.“ Your lips mesh together as you pull him closer by his shirt, tugging at the hem to signal you want it off before moving down towards his belt.

“ But y/n - chan I just don’t want us to get caught...” A whine leaves his throat as you start palming him through his jeans before quickly pulling them along with his briefs down to his knees.

“You need to relax more baby.” You press a kiss next to his ear before sinking down to your knees. “In fact I know just how to help you do that.”

Before he could even think of a response his hand flew up to cover out the loud moan threatening to slip out of his ajar mouth as his head fell back.

He’s definitely loud during sex.

Without a doubt.

He lets out these whiny little moans and he definitely tries to hide em. They wouldn’t be especially high pitched but they’d still be higher than usual. Can definitely see him as the type to cover them up with his hand but when you let him know how much you love them he’ll blush a little but let em all out.

You’ve seen how attentive this man is right? How he takes every little piece of info he gets into account when he fills out his journal and comes up with plans?

Yeah your body has its own journal.

Joke lol, but Deku is very attentive and takes note of every reaction he gets out of your body with his touch. How your back arches when his fingers hit that spot inside of you. How your moans get louder when he angles his hips in a certain way. How goosebumps appear when he litters kisses down your neck.

Aftercare with him is the cutest thing ever.

Blushy boi again.

He holds you close to his naked body and pushes his head into the crook of your neck to hide his blush. He’ll thank you for not only sharing moments like these with him but also allowing him to be apart of your life.

Now and then you guys take a hot bath together afterwards but most of the time you fall asleep in each others arms, an occasional kiss being placed on your forehead with a word of comfort.

This man will just love on you so hard.

The first thing that pops into my head when I think Shinso and sex is kitten.

He definitely calls you kitten in bed and he is daddy. period.

Like this man is rough. Without a doubt.

He’s the type that’s really fun to tease because you know he’ll punish you later. Especially if you do it while he’s at work.

A gasp leaves your lips when you feel a familiar pair of arms circle your waist, his warm body pinning you against the railing of the balcony.

"Surprised kitten? I thought you would've expected this, sending me those lewd photos while im at work. "

His hands move to grab onto your waist and push you further into the railing, yours grabbing onto it in turn.

His chest vibrates against your back as he chuckles, you can practically feel the smirk on his face.

"Yeah, you better fucking hold on to something."

I also feel like his pull out game is the best. He mostly enjoys cumming on either your chest or your lower back and face on special occasions.

He loves taking you from behind or on your side while lifting your one leg. He also loves sitting on the edge of the bed with you on top of him with your back facing him while he guides your hips up and down.

He loves these positions because it gives him the perfect angle to please and tease. He can easily reach around and play with your nipples but he can also tease you by just stilling inside of you when you least expect it.

It also gives him better access to the most sensitive parts of your neck so he can mark you up.

I feel like Shinso has a very high sex drive. Like i feel like he's down to go whenever wherever, which is why i think quickies with him is almost a daily occurrence. He loves the risk behind it and he definitely knows how finish you off within 5 minutes.

He absolutely loves it when you're a brat so use this to your advantage because it will get you r a i l e d.

A loud groan escapes the back of Shinso's throat, his hand tangled in your hair while he rams into you from behind.

"Is this what you wanted baby? Huh? Me fucking the brat out of you?"

He is an absolute king with his hands and he knows it. He knows how to get you absolutely spent with just 2 fingers.

Definitely jealous as fuck but he doesn't do anything about it until you're alone. He'll act normal up until you get home before pinning you against the wall and reminding you that he's the only man you should be giving attention to.

And oh my god this man can go all night long. He’ll pound you into the mattress until HE thinks you’ve had enough, sweat gleaming on both your bodies in the moonlight as he finally pulls out and pulls you close to him.

He’s definitely very adventurous. He’s not afraid to experiment at all.

I also feel like when he cums he cums A LOT. Like one of his favourite things ever would be you on you knees in front of him, his cock buried deep down your throat as you struggle to swallow everything he's giving you.

Sleepy sex is basically a morning ritual, his hips already rutting against your ass before you've even properly woken up. He loves the laziness of the whole ordeal as well as the closeness. Before you he'd just rub one out before falling back asleep, but now that you're here he can just indulge in you and then fall back asleep. Not that you mind.

Shinso doesn't leave hickeys intentionally. He just gets into it and does it without noticing it. Thinks it's hilarious as fuck when you struggle to hide them and definitely makes a comment about you knowing you enjoyed it so why complain now.

Definitely the type to wake you up and ask you to ride him at ungodly hours.

Member of the suck me off while I'm gaming club.

A little bonus: I can just see both of you going at it and he’s doing you good and then all of a sudden he just stops. Naturally you just assume he’s just trying to be a tease so you buck your hips up in attempt to get him to move inside of you and let out a whiny moan. Shinso would just kinda calmly look at you and go “ Baby... she’s on top of me.” and you’d be like huh???? tf he talking about, and just look up and see the cat you adopted together peeking at you over his shoulder. She lets out the cutest little meow and you both start giggling, taking a mental note to close the bedroom door before you get down in future.

After sex he’d take care of you. He’d clean you up and cuddle you really close. He’d run his fingers through your hair and massage your scalp for you. Will wake you up with breakfast in bed the next morning and a cup of coffee/tea.

Hawks has a god complex in bed and you can't convince me otherwise.

He's the absolute king of oral. He isn't just gluttonous for food if you catch my drift. He knows how to use his tongue, and the way he uses it on your sex is enough to make you see stars.

"Oh god. Fuck, i-i need- oh my god. Keigo, I need mhmmnnmm" your hand runs through his golden locks as you press him closer to your core, hips bucking and thighs threatening to close around his head.

Keigos head peaks up from between your legs, his mouth glistening with your arousal as his hand picks up where his tongue left off. A cocky smile sneaks it's way on his face.

"That's right baby, tell god what you need."

Hawks loves taking you in missionary. Why you may ask. Because this gives you perfect access to his wings. Nothing gets him more riled up than the feeling of your fingers dancing over the base of his wings where they meet his skin. The feeling's enough to draw a growl from within his chest, his hips immediately picking up momentum as he pounds you deeper into the bed.

Just like Katsuki, Keigo isn't afraid to mahandle you.

He loves the sight of your fucked out face as he wraps his hand around you throat, incoherent mumbles the only thing leaving your swollen lips.

He fucks you stupid, tongue lolling out of your mouth and eyes rolling back into your head. The sight of this turns him on ten times more than he already was in the first place.

Keigo will also use his feathers on you 100%.

A small gasp leaves your lips at the feeling of something soft stimulating your sex. You lower your eyes, undeniably turned on by the sight of one of Keigos feathers matching the momentum of his thrusts as his hips slam into yours.

Your eyes travel back up to your lovers face, unable to hold back the moan that escapes your lips as he winks at you with a smirk and picks up his pace.

Undeniably into praise. He absolutely loves when you tell him how good he's making you feel and how he's the only one who possibly could make you feel this way. Definitely gets cocky about it.

Along with his love for praise he also has a love for degrading. He loves the way you instantly start moaning louder and tightening up when he starts calling you his little slut and cocksleeve, it's enough to make his dick twitch.

Definitely possessive and protective as hell over you. Being Keigos sidekick meant a lot of work related arguments about recklessness from both sides. These arguments often times lead to hate sex.

A harsh tug on your arm stops you dead in your tracks as you turn around to come face to face with your fiancee, the scowl on his face giving away exactly what he was feeling before he could even get a chance to open his mouth.

"What the fuck was that." His breath was hot as it fanned over your face, the smell of mint unmissable. "That, Keigo, was me doing my fucking job." "No y/n, that was you being careless! What the fuck were you thinking risking your life like that?!" " Last time i checked that was our job description! We're supposed to be risking our lives to save innocent people, or does that suddenly mean nothing to you anymore?" "I don't fucking care about them I care about you! I have half a mind to remove you from field work thanks to that little stunt!" " For fucks sake Keigo! What are you gonna do?! Tie me to a fucking desk?!"

Within two seconds your back was pressed against a wall, your fiancees hands slamming down next to your head as he moves his face dangerously close to yours.

" Tread lightly princess, or i just might."

Adding to the possessiveness, i feel like Keigo will be one jealous son of a bitch with no shame at all.

Like he'd take you out for dinner at some fancy restaurant to treat you, only to have your waiter start flirting with you. Keigos blood would start boiling, his jaw set as he'd glare at the man flirting with his mate.

As soon as the waiter leaves he'd make some snarky, passive aggressive comments about the scenario before dragging you into the bathroom mumbling " If he can't see who you belong to I guess I'll have to show him"

He'd then proceed to shamelessly pound the fuck out of you in the restaurant making sure everyone, especially that waiter, could hear every single sound the left your lips. He'd leave so many hickeys on your neck. He needs to mark what's his.

"You're mine. You understand me? You belong to me baby, you're all mine." His hand roughly grabs your face making you look him in the eyes. "Say it." He gets impatient, lifting his hand to lightly slap your face, the action drawing a moan from your lips. " I said fucking say it."

Total exhibitionist. You have definitely been pinned against the large windows in your apartment or even his agency, on full display to anyone walking by as he fucks you nice and hard.

I feel like aftercare with Keigo would be little things that don't necessarily classify as aftercare but comforts you both.

After pulling out of you Keigo would lay down next to you, his hands wrapping around your body to pull you closer as his heart hammers in his chest and he waits for his breathing to calm down a tad.

He'd then get up, tug on a pair of boxers and grab the box of cigarettes and lighter on his bedside table before heading out to the balcony.

You'd slip out of bed, putting on his shirt before joining him outside. Your arms would be wrapped around his waist while he smoked, both of you enjoying the slight late night breeze and the sound of the bustling city before heading inside to snuggle up and fall asleep together.

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boldlyvoid · 4 years ago

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ain't it fun? | part two

Part Two

summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

warnings: falling in love, fluff, hurt/comfort, implied/referenced smut, non-descriptive

a/n: so glad you liked part 1 I couldn't help myself from continuing

word count: 3k

from the beginning

She’s laying in his bed, one of his friends showed up early and she’s pretending she’s not there. But his friend brought breakfast and it smells good and she’s starving.

After crewing the hell out of her lip and 5 minutes of hyping herself up; she gets up off the bed, still in her sweater and shorts from their movie night, and she slowly opens the bedroom door, peaking out to see if Spencer was in view.

“Hello?” A friendly man spots her, standing as he makes his way to shake her hand. “I’m Derek.”

“Y/N,” she smiles.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he smiles back. “What’s going on here?” He gestures to her and then back to Spencer as he exits the kitchen and sees her.

“We watched star trek all night, if you don’t believe me I can make him recount it to you from memory?” Y/N replies, smirking like she knows him just as well as his friend.

“And how might you know Spencer?” Derek teases right back.

“He’s my best friend in the whole world,” she replies like it’s nothing, “and I live across the hall.”

Derek shoots a look at Spencer that’s almost proud, almost emotional, like a mom who heard she’s going to be a grandma, “Is that true?”

Spencer blushes, “she’s my best friend.”

“Tell me how this all happened!” Derek is more than excited, sitting down on the couch with a wide grin as he waits to hear more.

“Um, we met in the hall, we have the same interests and now we watch movies together and have sleepovers with candy and popcorn, like we’re 13-year-old girls? I’ve even braided his hair,” she avoids the real reason why they met. Unsure if Spencer has told anyone about his drug problem or not.

“And now I’m going to go finish sleeping in my own bed,” she makes awkward finger guns at the door accompanied by her most awkward smile and she’s off.

Spencer follows her out into the hall, closing the door and looking at her apologetically; “I’m sorry, I won’t tell him anything more about us if you don’t want me to?”

“Us?” She questions? “You tell me you love me a lot, but you’ve never told me who you want me to be to you… I want you to think about that and then come and see me later.”

“Can I have a kiss? It helps me think better,” he whispers as he leans in.

She rolls her eyes, playfully, leaning in as well until their lips meet. It’s soft and sweet and she wishes there could be more, but for now she has to go.

Once she’s inside, she leans against the door of her apartment and listens to see when he goes back inside. Only what she hears is even better, “Derek, I’m going to have to ask you to leave so I can go ask her to be my girlfriend.”

He shoos the man from his apartment, avoiding all his questions and convincing him to finally leave by saying, “you’ve been telling me for months that I need to get over it, and now you’re going to stand here and stop me from telling her I love her, again?”

“Again?”

“Derek!”

“Fine.”

And then he’s knocking on her door, “who is it?” She teases.

“Y/N, open the door, please?” He begs without a single regret behind his tone.

She opens it slowly, “yes?”

He tilts his head with a look that screams; ‘come on?’

But she looks back at him as if to say; ‘what about it?'

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“The first step in getting help is admitting you have a problem.”

He laughs at the absurdity, “you’re kidding?”

“Spencer, even though you’re a pain in my ass; would you like to be my boyfriend? I’m asking because the words make it real, and I would like you to really know how I feel, thanks for coming,” she extends her arm into the apartment, gesturing for him to walk in and he does so with a laugh.

“I would love to be your boyfriend,” he responds once the door is closed. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t want this to be real?”

She can tell he’s not sure why he’s apologizing, “I need confirmation. I can’t sleep in your bed almost every night for a month, and just have to guess if I’m allowed to call you my boyfriend when my mom calls and asks why I won't text her back at night.”

“Oh,” he looks upset. “I thought that by telling you that I love you that it would work, but I understand. I really would like to be your boyfriend and be yours for however long you’ll have me.”

Her heart melts in her chest, he's so nervous and shy because he truly means it. His heart is in her hands now, “how long are you available?”

“Forever.”

“I have more questions,” she whispers as she moves closer, pressing their bodies together as she holds his sides and he holds her shoulders.

“Okay.”

“What did you mean out there, and also sorry for listening, but I’d like to know…”

“It’s okay,” his words are soft. “I’m um, a virgin?”

“Oh?” Her eyes shoot wide open, “I was expecting like an ex who broke your heart?”

“Oh no, I’ve never… I don’t... no,” he shakes his head profusely. “I’m not in a rush either, I just wanted him to leave me alone. That’s not what I’m in here for.”

She smiles, “I am too…” she whispers, “I’m really glad you are too, actually.”

“You’ve thought about it?”

“Think, big brain, go back to right before I closed my door that first night…” she teases him before making a fake VHS tape rewind sound that always makes him laugh.

“You wanted to leave the group because you can’t sleep with members while you’re healing,” he smirks at his recollection, “I mean, other than the general attraction, have you thought about the possibility of that happening for us one day?”

She nods again, “one day, I’m cool just making out with you for now, actually. But yes. I would like for you to be my first because I trust you the most out of every single person I’ve ever met.”

He looks like his heart is exploding as his grip on her shoulders tightens, “I would like for you to be mine too, eventually.”

“Eventually,” she repeats with a small smile, leaning in for another small kiss.

“Derek left without his breakfast, and he didn't even get a chance to touch it yet…” Spencer whispers against her lips.

She laughs through her nose, kissing him once more before pulling away, “come on, boyfriend.”

—

She’s been in Quantico for 5 months, 3 of which she’s now spent with Spencer.

She’s laying beside him as they watch star trek and her mind is off in space. She can’t focus on anything other than the thought of her rent coming due and how she’s probably going to have to decide if she wants to leave after her 6-month lease is up.

“Spence,” she whispers, “do you know any other cheap apartment buildings in the area?”

“Why?”

She turns to face him, the yellows, reds and blues flash across the screen and illuminate him lightly, “I don’t have enough money to keep living here, and I don’t want to move back in with my parents.”

“Would you like to move in with me?” He asks carefully, “don’t feel pressured to say yes, it’s just I’m never really here and I don’t want you to leave.”

She smiles at the offer, “If I move in I have to tell the disability people, and then my disability money will change because you make so much and they still believe that men own women when they get together, like some what's yours is mine, shit.”

“Really?”

She nods, “yeah. They'll want to know how much you make every month when I get my statement and then they decide what I deserve because if you’re making money, clearly I’m taken care of, right?”

He can hear her sarcasm and he knows it's just to mask the hurt, and she can tell by the way his whole face changes.

“Wrong,” Spencer is oddly defensive. “That is so wrong, there are so many women in this country trapped with terrible men who abuse them. They never see a single dime of the money that comes in, and if they have children they are lucky to receive money for groceries. I’ve seen all of it first hand, it’s horrific, and yet they still think they can take care of disabled women who are in more need of money than anyone else?”

“I love you.”

“What?” He stops, breathing, blinking, everything. He just stares at her as he comprehends it.

She hasn’t said it back yet.

“I love you.” She repeats it and smiles, tears welling in her eyes as she appreciates how much he really does care; how much he really gets it.

“Lie, tell them you’re back with your parents. It’s not like they check-up and then just stay here. Move your things in and make this your place too, do whatever you want to it, it deserves to be lived in.”

“You’re really serious?” She’s not sure why she’s so surprised, he’s been saying he loves her every single day for the last 2 months and 3 weeks.

She’s loved him the whole time, but she’s afraid of that at the same time because once she loves him out loud, then she loves him for real and that’s scary. He has a scary job and he’s never home and if she loves him then she has to deal with that and the fact he might not come home one day.

He nods gently, “I know you need a lot of space for your art supplies so move whatever you need to to make room. I think you’re magnificent, and I don’t think that you should feel held back, I'll do anything to help you with your little craft store.”

A tear slips past her eye and towards the pillow, she blinks as she smiles, unable to speak as she just appreciates his kindness, “I think when whatever is out there made your soul, they were like 'this one; he’s special, we’re only making one of him and he’s going to go through some shit, but it’s because someone else is too and they need each other.'”

Spencer’s smile grows, large and toothy as he moves in closer to hold her. Noses pressed together, they’re hugging basically now, arms wrapped around each other and legs tangled as they enjoy the moment. It’s so nice, there’s nothing left to say.

They’re content with each other.

—

She moves what she needs into Spencer’s apartment the next week, he’s out of town and it’s easier this way with him out of the way.

It’s easier to miss him in here though, everything smells like him and feels like him, and his personality is on every single wall. She wants him to come home so badly, living without him for random bouts of time was the worst part of their relationship.

The rest of her things are in boxes in her apartment, waiting by the door for when Spencer comes back. He offered to put everything in his old Volvo Amazon and meet her parents for the weekend and her mother was through the roof over it.

She has called 4 times in the last week to ask about all Spencer’s favourite meals, what he likes for breakfast most mornings and if he had any allergies. She’s cleaned the “guest” room, which was really just where she slept before, and she was very clear that he was allowed to sleep with her as long as no funny business happened.

That was the funny part.

They still weren’t doing it and she was fine with that, so was he. Neither of them was ready, emotionally nor physically. They’ve both been through some terrible things that make it very hard for them to want to share yet.

She loves him more this way, while the sex would probably be amazing and she knew they were both getting off anyway and they weren’t secretive about it, at all. They just didn’t do it together yet… and she was starting to want to.

The most they’ve done is the occasional mutual masturbation session and that was just when they were too lazy to do it when they were alone, earlier in the day, and just needed to in order to finally sleep. It was always quick, quicker than when she would do it alone because he was just so cute like that.

She found herself getting off to thoughts of him more than anything else the longer and longer they shared more and got to know each other.

Because while, yes, they live together and they’re dating; they’re still really just best friends and roommates. They don’t see each other as often as they want to, they have separate friend groups, she has meetings on the other side of town now and they’ve never even been on a date.

For how fast they looked to be moving to anyone who knew them, they were going extremely slow behind the scenes. The reality is, they were following the rules of addiction recovery more than the rules of society.

She wasn’t really ready to take on the emotional commitment of having sex with someone when she wasn’t really over her trauma. It went far deeper than just her addiction, there was more Spencer had no idea about and she wanted to make sure he knew everything before he met her parents.

So like always, they got into bed as soon as he returned and they had a cuddle conversation. It was soothing to not only feel the other person close, but they both stimmed by running their hands over something soft. He knew something was up as soon as he walked in the door and she asked for a cuddle before even saying hello.

He didn’t, however, expect the long-winded backstory of her childhood to be the issue. He was silent the whole time she explained, he cried with her as his cheek rested on her forehead and her tears fell onto his shirt below her face.

Learning his past was just as hard.

She cant imagine how no one could love him, no one took him in and offered him shelter and love and warmth. He deserved kindness and family. He was worth the world and then some to her, and it hurt so deeply to think of no one showing that to him. He’s spent the last 25 years just searching aimlessly for a single iota of respect.

No wonder he fell in love with her so easily.

—

The first time is terribly awkward but incredibly euphoric… and they cry after. Not from sadness or regret; no, they’re so in love and so happy with their choices, it’s more of an overwhelming overflowing of emotions that was bound to erupt along with them.

“This has to be the most vulnerable time in the entire world if you really think about it,” Spencer justifies why he’s crying as he starts to get anxious about being too much. “I mean we’ve already seen each other naked and know each other outside… we might as well share what's going on inside too.”

She nods against his sweaty chest, “I used to be really upset that my doctors put me on Dilaudid. I still hate that all this happened to us, but I’m really glad we don’t have to be alone anymore.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

It gets easier the more they do it. It’s still always hilariously awkward, they were so stupidly in love it translated into every moment; like when they attempted shower sex and knocked the curtain down and got water everywhere. Or the time they attempted a quickie in the bar bathroom and his boss walked in, and they had to try not to laugh or move or do anything as they made the most awkward, silent, eye contact ever, in the corner of the stall.

Being horny and awkward was the worst combination but they made it work pretty well.

He was tender and loving and he listened to instructions well. He was a quick learner, he was happy with whatever she wanted and he always, always, tried to finish last. (He wasn’t that lucky) but he was a truly nice guy.

She loved him more and more as the seconds passed. He was just so wonderful, he had his up and downs but they always had great communication, and he understood her unpredictability from her disabilities. The best part was that he loved her regardless of how she was when she woke up in the morning, and she always went to bed with either a kiss or a text proving he loved her.

Before they knew it, a year had passed and she was laying in his bed while he got ready for work. She loved watching his selection process, his colour coordinated closet and handy-dandy tie organization rack. He was so cute, and he always looked so amazing.

“I don’t want you to go in today,” she whispers with a pout.

He takes his phone off the dresser and calls in then, “yeah, Hotch I’m really not doing well. I don’t know what we ate last night but I— yeah thank you.”

He puts everything back in the closet and crawls right back into bed, he snuggled back in close and she smiled at her job well done. He didn’t need to be at work as often as he was, he had a lot of personal and sick days stored and they were always telling him to use them. He deserved a break for that beautiful brain of his, an 8-hour turnaround between psychopaths wasn’t good for anyone, especially not the 2nd most prized possession of the FBI.

“What do you do during the day when I’m not here?” He asked, genuinely not knowing how she occupied her time outside of his presence.

“I sleep until 11,” she whispers as she snuggles in closer.

He’s warm and cuddly and perfect. Naps in the morning are possibly the best periods of sleep someone can ever experience. It’s so relaxing to reward the body with more time, and it’s even better when it includes the perfect snuggle companion.

Taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aint it fun

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pandaluc · 4 years ago

Text

Warm Weekends

In which after a busy week, you get to spend your weekend together with your Genshin lover

Characters included: Lisa, Diluc x g!n s/o reader

Warnings: mentions of drinking, did not proof-read

Lisa

8:30 am... You are woken by your girlfriend, Lisa, the very well-known librarian in Mondstadt. "Good morning cutie~" she tells you with a smile on her face. Just by that moment, you felt so lucky to have Lisa as your lover. You decided to spend a few minutes tugging yourself on her chest, your arms hugging her close to you. You cherish these moments a lot, and so does she. Her head on top of yours, sometimes kissing the crown of your head. One of her arms are rubbing your back, and the other playing with your hair which feels so soothing.

9:00 am... The both of you stand up, together fixing your bed. She would comb your hair, and you comb hers. Doing so, you shower each other with compliments as well as some flirting here and there.

9:15 am... You and your lover make your way to the kitchen and start to cook breakfast. Lisa is a vegetarian so the both of you decided to make Satisfying Salad to eat this morning. After cooking, you then will offer Lisa a seat on the table. "How romantic of you, dear". While eating, the both of you discuss about how your week was. After eating, you would wash the dishes while Lisa cleans the table up and store left-overs if there are any.

9:53 am... You then take a bath with Lisa. Nothing suggestive happens. The baths you do with her are simply sweet and relaxing - it makes the both of you feel at peace. She would wash your hair, you would help her soap her back. Both of you would compliment each other about your looks. You love taking baths with her because she makes you feel accepted, secure and safe. Baths with her are indeed fun. After taking a bath, the both of you will then brush your teeth, comb your hair, and put on clothes together. Sometimes, you get to choose what she wears for the day. Today, you decided to wear a couple shirt with her. It is rare after all to see Lisa in a simple, comfortable clothing

10:34 am... You and Lisa make your way to the library, not to do work in the weekend but rather to have a library date. The both of you love to read, and well, if you did not love to read before, she definitely influenced you to do so. While reading, you both would discuss about history and theories about Teyvat and Celestia. Both of you found it fun.

1:43 pm... After reading and contemplating about the world, both of you go to Sara's Good Hunter and order some food. For today's late lunch, you ate Vegetarian Abalone with her. Some people would stare at the both of you, not to creep the couple out or anything but rather because you two look so good and cute together. At first, you were uncomfortable with the stares. But later on, you got used to it and came to the realization that you are just indeed so lucky to have Lisa as your future wife.

2:39 pm... After eating, Lisa decided that the both of you could take a walk outside Mondstadt to perhaps reconnect with nature. You and Lisa then go outside Mondstadt to travel. The both of you would go pick up flowers to give each other, admire lakes or waterfalls and go on top of a mountain to do some sightseeing. While gathering Cecilias, and some big leaves and strings, you then make a boquet to give to your lover on a mountain peak as the sun sets. It is simple, yet romantic. Very romantic. Lisa then somewhat felt bad because she did not have such gift to give to you even if you assured her that it is alright. As a result, she simply took a Windwheel Aster, cut some part of the stem, and put it on your ear.

7:22 pm... You both went back to the comfort of your home, and made Radish Veggie Soup to eat as your dinner. You and Lisa were exhausted from your date. Even so, you wish that Lisa enjoyed the date as much as you did. While her wish was to spend more time with you like this, instead of being busy doing librarian things and helping the Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius even if she is not part of the Knights.

8:13 pm... You both wash up, wore your pajamas and prepared yourselves to sleep. Hugging each other, and talking about your day as you and Lisa drift to sleep.

"Thank you for today, darling. I really appreciate it. If only we get to spend more times like this together... I hope we do so in the future before our time comes. I enjoy your company so much, dear. Thank you. Good night."

Diluc

7:30 am... You woke up before Diluc did, giving you a chance to admire his beautiful face. Him being at peace, not worrying about anything, made you happy. After all, you rarely get a chance to see him like this. You planned to cook him breakfast, and so tried to get out of bed to make your way to the kitchen...well, tried. Diluc is a light sleeper so no matter how careful you were, your lover woke up because of your motions. You apologized and told him to continue sleeping. You continued to get out of your bed but Diluc wrapped his arms tightly onto you, pulling you back to bed with him. "It's alright... but please stay on bed a bit longer with me."

8:30 am... You ended up sleeping with him for an hour longer. It was hard for you to resist his morning voice, and his peaceful look asking you to stay. After falling back to sleep, you then woke up just to see your boyfriend's loving eyes admiring you while his fingers stroking your hair. "Good morning, dear", he says. You can't help but gently smile, realizing how lucky you are today to be able to spend a morning with the love of your life.

8:40 am... After a few minutes of cuddling (just like the touch starved the both of you are), you then decide to start cooking as Diluc fixes your bed. You decided to cook a dish named "Pile 'em up". The maids in Dawn Winery told you that they could cook breakfast for you and Diluc instead. But you insisted that you can do the cooking for today. This dish you are cooking is a dish that Diluc recently taught you, and so apparently is Diluc's specialty. It was special for you. It had a very nice smell, therefore, your partner recognized the dish your cooking. He then went to the kitchen, and hugged you from behind. His eyes staring at the dish, satisfied at your work.

9:11 am... You and Diluc ate breakfast together while talking about work and basically asking each other's life so far. Diluc would tell you stories about his batman Darknight Hero duties while you compliment him about his determination and hard-work. Mornings like this are very appreciated by you and your lover. It's a shame that in most days, Diluc would be working while you are eating alone at this hour.

9:43 am... After eating, you both took a bath. Unlike Lisa, you and Diluc doesn't really take baths together. As we know, Diluc is quite a reserved person. Don't get him wrong, he would like to take a bath with you...but is afraid to ask you about it since he does not want you to be uncomfortable. Poor boy, taking a bath with him is also one of your desires.

10:22 am... You often finish taking a bath before Diluc does. What do you expect? A man like him won't allow himself to go out with a single slightest dirt in his being. While waiting for him to finish, you comb your hair and wear your clothes. And once Diluc finishes taking a bath, you make him sit on a chair in front of a mirror to comb his hair in which you can't help but think what shampoo and hair care does this man use.

10:53 am... It may be a weekend, but the world sadly does not stop time and duties for the both of you. Though Charles often handles Angel's Share, he was given a day-off by Diluc because of Charles' personal matters. Since it is quite rare to have a day where you and Diluc can be together, you decide to go help Diluc in his tavern. Diluc was opposed with this idea at first because drunkards can really be a hassle, but you pleaded way too much that your lover can't just refuse anymore... look at the power you hold. You and Diluc then walk to Angel's Share, people staring and some one (to be specific, Donna.) death glaring at you with tears. You didn't mind anyways. Having Diluc as your boyfriend is a huge flex after all.

11:20 am... The two of you arrive in the tavern, cleaning it before opening. You can't help but stare at Diluc as the both of you wipe the tables. Diluc notices, and exchanged glances with you. He slightly smiles and walk up to you, putting his arm on your back. Pulling you to a kiss on the forehead.

11:30 am... Angel's Share opens. Since it was still morning, only two people came. Whenever these two drunk people gets too close and touchy with you, Diluc would realize and see your face full of discomfort. Diluc would then glare at them, enough to scare them and stop.

12:40 pm... You and Diluc close the doors of Angel's Share for a lunch break. You go to Sara to order food, as Diluc stays in the tavern cleaning the mess the drunk people made. You come back to the tavern with food as you lock the door. The two of you, then, eat on the counter. Everything about Diluc is truly admirable, so you can't help stare at him as he eats. Lucky you, he thinks the same of you. He adores it so much when you eat, especially when you try to cut the meat and struggle.

1:21 pm... You unlock the doors in the tavern, and start to receive customers. It may be an afternoon, but it is a weekend and Diluc is planning to close the tavern earlier today. Diluc starts to mix up drinks, while you take customers' orders and clean tables. Customers that are rude won't be avoided, they are drunk after all. If they get too rude, especially to you, Diluc would make up an excuse to kick them out. While cleaning tables, you'd catch Diluc staring at you. Whenever Diluc realizes that you notice his stairs, he quickly looks down at the glass he is cleaning with a faint pink blush on his face. how cute. This is basically your date. It's not the often romantic dinner dates, but you still appreciate and have fun. Knowing more about Diluc's life is good after all. Besides, you get breaks from time to time so you still get to sit on one of the chairs near the counter and talk to Diluc, maybe even giving him a peck on the lips when you are being called by one of the customers.

6:31 pm... There was only one customer left. Before the night approaches and more people attempt to come in and drink, Diluc quickly kicks the customer out and lock the tavern doors. You help Diluc clean up the tavern. He is the type to give back hugs, so you often receive them as you wipe tables, him kissing the top of your head. After the whole clean-up, the both of you walk back to your lover's mansion.

7:13 pm... You and your boyfriend were greeted by the maids with a fancy dinner set on the dining table. You and Diluc freshen up first, and then together headed to the table. While eating, he'd ask about how was your day. He would also ask you if there were customers who were mean to you or attempted to flirt with you. He trusts you, but in the end, he doesn't want to see the love of his life in a not-so-good condition. He wants you to feel safe and secure around him, and he succeeds on doing so. He wants the best for you. He is always there for you. And he always makes you feel that.

7:49 pm... After eating, Diluc and you wash up before going to bed. You were glad because today, you are able to sleep early with Diluc. Not having to wait for him to come at 3am due to his darknight duties. After being washed up, the both of you lay in bed. It won't be considered as sleeping with Diluc if there are no cuddling sessions for lots of minutes. Asking about if you need or want anything, and if there is something you want to get rid off your chest...what a perfect man. Sometimes, he would be the big spoon. Sometimes, he would be the small spoon. The both of you take turns. After conversations and cuddles, you eventually fall asleep as Diluc watches you sleeping, kissing your forehead and saying...

"Good night darling. I promise to protect and cherish you all my life. Thank you for bringing light to my world. I love you."

#genshin hcs #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin lisa #lisa x reader #genshin imagines #lisa minci #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc headcanons #lisa headcanons #pandaluc #pandahcs

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catboyshinsou · 4 years ago

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sick headcanons!

anon request: i love your writing smmm !! 🥺 can i request mha sick hcs where they take care of the reader when they don’t feel well 🥺 you choose who !! <3333

a/n: sorry it took so long <//3

pairings: Kaminari, Kirishima, Tokoyami and Monoma x sick,g/n!reader

warnings: none rlly, mention of throwing up in monoma, slight manga spoilers

can be seen platonically and romantically <3

kaminari:

Tbh i think he’d be quite Useless

Just rlly panicky n stuff bc what the fuck does one do with a sick person???

*walks into your dorm* “hey y-n wanna- WHAT THE FUCK YOU LOOK TERRIBLE”

*you in a blanket and not having enough energy to be offended* “i think i’m dying” “y/n WHAT”

He’d try his best regardless tho

He goes to sato and helps with doing something soothing and welcoming

On his way back to your dorm he passes aizawa and tells him you’re sick in THE worst way

“Oh yeah Aizawa-sensei, y/n is dying-” “THEY’RE WHAT”

Kami would definitely storm into the room with him and be just as worried

What if it was something really serious??? Like the plague?????

They find you just laying in bed, sniffling and groaning

Turns out it wasn’t the plague and just a bad flu

Flu with its whole jazz, you had a fever of 38C and you could barely move

Aizawa got you excused from classes for about a week and left again

Kami just stood there with his soup and went “oh thank god you're not dying”

like i said i think he'd be useless but try his best

he checks up on you every half hour either in person or via text during classes

he brings you stuff like blankets and foods even though you can't taste any of them or have any type of appetite

but! thanks to the fridge in your room you just had snacks for about… forever

he gave you extra attention too

sometimes he'd just sit on the ground and talk about his day and theories while you just laid under your blanket

you appreciated it though

except for aizawa, sato and tsuyu nobody came over and even they just came in every few hours

kami stayed for hours on end and even tried to convince aizawa to let him sleep over so he could “watch over you” incase you “stopped breathing”

it's not like you slept much when he was around anyway, nights were not ideal for a good rest on a sick day

it was endearing seeing him lay on a futon on the floor and poking you when he had to get up for class

he leaves notes and stuff to make sure you didn't get worried

did he do anything to make you feel better physically? not rlly

did he lift your spirits and make you feel less lonely? most definitely

kirishima:

hear me out

this boy is an angel when it comes to caring for people

when he got into the whole essentially self care stuff he also knows what's best for others

he was probably one of the first to notice you being ~off your game~

whether in class or just yknow vibing, he'd tap your shoulder and softly “you okay man?”

he calls everyone dude and man and bro no matter gender or anything he's just that into the manliness stuff

and yes he puts you in essentially self isolation more for yourself than for others

“your body needs to rest y/n! can't properly get better if everyone keeps bothering you!”

he calls you every night tho and he has aizawa bring you stuff when he checks up on you (he's allowed because he's the teacher ofc also as long you're a UA student like one of your legal guardians which is like a dad and dads can see their kids sick right?)

stuff ranges from just bowls of soup to compresses to the handmade ointment against a sore throat to like socks he knitted or something his parents sent in bc he told them you were sick

yes this boy tells his parents you're sick

i mean someone probably told yours but like twice the parents means twice the comfort!

alternatively if your parents are *cough* he'd tell his parents and put you on the phone with them because everyone needs some parental love from time to time (don't act tough about it, he's gonna make you cry and tell you how manly you are for doing so)

when you're back on your feet he probably still treats you like you're about to fall over for like two or three days more

he praises you for how well you did during your essential quarantine and when you say you didn't do anything he says some cheesy stuff about manliness

“bro i'm so proud of you for getting through it!” “i didn't do anything kiri-” “don't say that! it takes so much energy and manliness to keep in self isolation and get better, you did amazing”

tokoyami:

i love birds

also look at baby toko he's so cute

do birds get sick?

anyways

tokoyami is like.. helpful but tries to be undercover about it

he's not gonna ignore you or anything

he's the type to like silently nudge teachers into your area so they could see you were clearly sick and send you back to the dorms to rest

but he'd never actually ask you or tell anyone

it would ruin his whole ~vibe~

dark shadow tells him to tell someone and he rlly does especially if he sees you struggling through it in class but he's also just not great at talking with people so a nudge or “secret note” will have to do

it does work, you're in your dorm right before combat training because mic had sent you up and excused you

mic is sweet he said he'd send aizawa up when he finds him but that you should rest

he also tells you that you have some really attentive friends

you're at this point just letting the sickness take over you so you have no idea what he just said (you heard him but the words just didn't register in your brain)

you get into bed and the first thing you do is sleep through afternoon classes

tokoyami is only at 50% today and so is dark shadow

tokoyami swears he isn't worried, the teachers are capable of taking care of you in an appropriate manner so that you will recover in no time

dark shadow on the other hand is all gittery and doesn't wanna focus on anything but you

off topic but i just think dark shadow is tokoyamis way of showing emotions or well like… like his internal thoughts? not like his internal dialogue but ya know his feelings

so he can act all goth and dramatic but dark shadow is a good way of still giving some of his feelings an output

back to you

so training is over and so is your nap

but you wake up to pillows, stuffed animals, blankets and more pillows surrounding you

half of them weren't yours either

they laid around you like some kind of pillow fortress jusy surrounding you and making sure you didn't hit your head on the wall or fall from the bed

it kinda felt like a nest- oh

you tried getting up, your head almost immediately flinging uoh back into bed but you needed to see if a certain someone would come back in to build the nest

“dark shadow, be quiet we don't want them to w- oh you're up”

tokoyami came in with more stuffies and an extra blanket like it was a siberian winter and your rooms only source of warmth was an almost dying candle

“are those yours?” you asked half asleep, your head absolutely booming

you could barely keep your eyes open, that's how exhausted you were but you made an effort to smile at the bird and his shadow

“uh no, yaomomo-san insisted on making some blankets for you and hagakure-san, ashido-san and uraraka-san gave me all their stuffed animals when they heard i was paying you a visit-” “but the blue star blanket and teardrop pillow are from fumi!! he brought them from home because he can't sleep without them!!” “DARK SHADOW!”

you only chuckled before breaking out in a cough again

aizawa came in some time after and had a hard time finding you under all the blankets and stuffies and even offered to tell the class to stop bothering you

but you just laid there all cozy and told him to let them be

“it's how he shows affection, it's nice”

monoma:

oh so the 1A student got sick??? huh??? I thought 1A was invincible hUUUUUUH??? *manic laughter*

coughs

anyways

so basically the two hero courses are more “in tune” after the joint training

they often have dinners together and it isn't rare to see kendo come over with monoma and tetsu^4

she came over to hang with the girls and tetsu had training sessions with kiri

nobody rlly knew why monoma tagged along though

all he did was spout about how average everything is for the “superior hero course”

he did secretly like the classes growing together more though

he'd sit on the couch with you and occasionally laugh about something else other than his team beating yours during joint training

one day he came in and didn't see you at your usual spot

“ehhhh??? where's the only tolerable person in this course??”

used to his lowkey insults deku pointed you out at the dinner table, head resting on your hand and looking over some homework

“y/n what are you- oh my god you look horrible”

“thanks monoma, you're as nice as ever”

your face was drained of any colour, eyes heavy lidded and you could barely control the pen that scribbled over the paper

he tried grabbing your wrist but pulled back immediately

you were way too hot and the fact that he noticed by grabbing your wrist meant that it was more than just a high fever

“is 1A that incompetent that they couldnt even notice their classmate falling sick??? can you guys do anything but trouble???”

“shut up monoma, we tried getting them to bed but they insisted on finishing up first and there's nothing in the world that can get y/n away from what they've put their head to”, kaminari yelled from the living room space

how were you gonna get anything finished if your head was falling off your shoulders if you didn't hold it up

class 1A really was incompetent

“sato-san, give me a hand”

sato, who was currently cooking up dinner, just held out his hand and some type of chocolate bar which monoma grabbed and ate up

“this is incredibly sweet, i don't know how you do it”

it's become like half a routine for monoma to copy quirks for whatever reason

kiri and tetsu used it to determine which quirk was handier

uraraka’s quirk made cleaning up after a game night easier

it was training for all of them

monoma could train his copy and the others could measure how much they've grown from his reaction to it

anyways

sato’s quirk kicked in and he lifted you up over his shoulder

“monoma!” you could barely lift your voice, faintly kicking

before you knew it he placed you on your bed in your dorm and sighed

“you're lighter than i thought”

“i think i'm gonna throw up”

so you hurled into your garbage can

monoma held back whatever there was to hold back

(he was very much disgusted but even he knew that this wasn't the time to let any type of negative emotion show)

“jolly gees y/n, what did you have for breakfast?!”

you laid in bed as he passed you a water bottle

“you need to drink something, you lost a lot of water”

“awe caring for me, monoma?”

“this is for general health, y/n. i would never as much as care for anyone, especially not a brat from 1A. who even knew that any of you could fall sick huh?! weren't you supposed to be superior to the rest of us??!”

he said all of that while putting a blanket on you and opening the window for fresh air

“god you 1A fools really are incompetent!”

he went into your bathroom and soaked a small towel in water

“i'm only doing this so you don't infect anyone. god you could cause an epidemic at UA and in the end 1b would fall victim to you as well! this is all just for the general well-being!”

you didn't even hear what he was saying anymore

with a half empty bottle next to your head, you slept peacefully

monoma let out a deep breath when he saw you

“i'd never care for anyone in 1A, i'm better than that…”

he whispered those words to himself

(he did care)

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theshamsandherzahraat · 3 years ago

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(untitled frank castle ff) II

word count: ~1.7k

warnings: still nothing i guess???!?

part I

note: i have no idea how long i can stick to the reader insertion structure of this piece of fiction but for now i can only try my best and write from a perspective i am more comfortable with despite the effort of staying neutral. the point is: i can’t just simply create the experience out of thin air; i have to have some sort of relation to it visa vi the following (three) characteristics you will stumble upon in the course of this chapter. nevertheless, i hope you will enjoy reading it. at this point i don’t even know how long this whole story is going to be. y’all. this could be like my next jam for the break alongside watching mob city. (yes, another fellow hole for mr. bernthal here. bye.)

(p/s: oh, and that john mulaney reference...i don’t know, man. as i was trying to relocate my story in the timeline of the series that came out in 2017, i remembered his netflix specials and some of his genius jokes from back then. take away whatever you want from that reference, i sincerely don’t care.)

@bunnywritesmarvel – i will always appreciate your occasional visit to my humble fort of writing <3

–

“Man, I love New York!” Your enthusiasm was echoing into the night. “Fastest delivery ever!” Wondering about what else could make this occasion more enjoyable, aside from the freshly baked apple pie, you were scanning your surroundings for some scented candles.

“And not just for food!” You heard Amy remark whilst she was getting the door.

“…?” A puzzled look on your face as you turned your head around.

“I honestly don't know why I said that. Sorry...” She sheepishly grinned in an attempt to threw you off with the arrived box in her hands.

“You sure?”

“Yes, ma'am...”

“Oh, c'mon, girl,” you tried to land a pillow on her face and ruin some of her effortlessly perfect locks falling down her shoulders “I'm still in my twenties, okay?! I am a bit of an old soul here, I know, but you don't have to do me like that.”

“Frank calls you ma'am as well.” She said as she dodged your pathetic throw with a chuckle.

“Exactly! Frank does!” you pointed a finger at her to emphasize your point “'Cuz I approve of his respect...And also because I like to call him sir…But that's not- ANYWAYS!” your patience was reaching its limit by now which wasn't optimal in terms of initiating a process that basically required all the patience you could possibly internalize. “Go get us some forks, Rapunzel.”

“You were maaaade for each other...” Another remark you didn't know how to digest. Made for each other? You and Frank? How?

“Nah, what do you know...” You mumbled in helpless frustration. Apparently you were heard.

“NOTHING!...” The young girl was shouting across the apartment, soon rejoining you on the couch. “Which is why I am all ears now.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah...” Before you could focus on Amy's fully charged presence, you snapped your fingers whilst pointing at the candles you spot under a top shelf of the lowboard furniture next to the wall. Pleading internally, you were hoping for a good scent. Come on, Madani… Lavender – Yes!

“So, tell me. He was going by the name Pete way back then?” She inquired as the small flame of the lighter in her hand met with the black wick.

“Indeed, he was.” You held out your hand in a gesture to take the candle, so you could place it in a desirable position on the coffee table, right between your hot cups of tea. “Though I must say there was definitely a Pete in him that peaked through every now and then for a chance at having a peaceful life. But as you already witnessed, that never played out well for him...” You started to slightly fork the slice of apple pie on your plate seated right across your tugged in left leg. Checking for the gooeyness – you simply couldn't pass by that.

“When did you first see him?” Amy was solely fixated on you and didn't seem to care much about the delightful dessert, having barely touched anything except her own sleeves. It was obviously going to take some time for her to feel somewhat at ease and relax in the lame coziness. Nevertheless, she was already immersed in the story you were about to tell.

“It was around mid-term season, where I adequately felt settled as a literature graduate from overseas. I had like this assignment due and I found the greatest spot in the city which was an old diner, you know – ‘authentic American experience’ and stuff. Pffh...”

“Oh. My. God...I just realize that I don't even know anything about you to begin with understanding your relationship with Frank. YOU STUDY LITERATURE AND YOU'RE NOT FROM HERE?!???” The exhilarating shock was plastered all over her face which was partly illuminated by a hue of yellow. Right. How could that have become any content for conversation between fired bullets, blood, some more fired bullets, and some more blood? No way at all.

“Yupp. Pretty much everything you need to know to understand the rest so I won't go down that rabbit hole, alright? Also, I don't know anything real about you either, so no further questions.”

“Uhrrrm...Okay??”

“So. I was spending hours at that diner and the staff grew a liking towards my presence. Really lovely folks. After a few days I started looking for inspiration in my surroundings at that time – customers, overheard conversations, food, nothing out of the ordinary, just life basically. That's when I first noticed Pete. He wasn't a real regular but you don't forget that face once you've locked your 'literary' energy on it, if you know what I mean…However that was just it. If I wouldn't have known better, I'd have labeled him as a strange hipster hunk and moved on.”

“Hipster?” Amy looked a little bit thrown off track due to a lack of imagination as you supposed.

“Yeah...At least that's what everybody else called him. For me,” you paused and tried to think of a more eloquent way to continue your narrative train “that beard wasn't a sign of groomed trendiness. That was a real man who went through some real shit and the beard was a simple byproduct of that because…” By now you were staring holes into the air and feeling an emptiness sweep over you with a little ache. “It was the eyes that exposed him, really. And he was avoiding meeting other eyes at all cost. A barricaded man, desperate for light to be shed on him.”

“Enter you!”

You shook your head in disagreement.

“No, not really… At least I didn't seek it. It just sort of happened.” Taking your first bite, you couldn't help but desperately wish for that void to be magically filled by it.

“Come on! That's what they all say!” She didn't seem to be convinced and shot you a doubtful stare, most likely having troubles with trusting you.

“Believe me or not, I don't think I would have had anything to do with him if it wasn't for the couple of dickheads who were at the diner that day.”

“Dang. Always a couple of dickheads… I wonder if Frank's a magnet for that kind of breed.”

With a gay sigh you simply said “We shall never wonder…” And Amy was noticeably agreeing with a knowing smile.

“Right. So, you two are at the diner and a bunch of assholes start harassing you?”

“Not exactly.” You were chewing on your next forkful of pie and covered your mouth with a hand. “They turned into assholes the moment I kindly told them that I had to concentrate on my work.”

“Oooooh, you had a normal conversation and then they decided to make everyone's day miserable?”

“Sort of. It was around six or seven in the evening. I got there around early sunset and Pete half an hour later I guess. And when those guys came along I was right in the middle of taking a break. I had my refill of coffee and some salted cookies from back home. My sketchbook was out on the table as I watched a few of John Mulaney's stand-up clips on YouTube. All nice and chill, right.” You were briefly checking for confirmation in her voiceless expressions. “I didn't even notice their sitting in the booth between mine and Pete's. Sometime later they asked if I was one of the exchange students. I guess the sticker on my laptop gave me away or whatever. We had a pretty nice talk, I was lowkey psyched that I got to meet new people outside of classes that weren't necessarily serving me an unhealthy intake of caffeine. But as soon as I made it clear that I was looking for nothing other than lighthearted human connection, they got pissed. Like completely offended. Couple of minutes later, well, ... Yeah, I was about to break that one dude's fucking fingers but I met Frank's amusingly disturbed gaze and decided to return to my assignment.” That last bit came off a little too nonchalant than you intended it to be. The last thing you wanted Amy to take away from this is your being pretentious.

“More like disturbingly amused.” Though she seemed to focus on something else, looking past you into the distance, while she grabbed her warm mug from the table.

“Possible.” You noted, not knowing how exactly to interpret her current exposure.

“And afterwards they just let you be?”

“Pretty much, yeah… I don't know. Maybe they saw Frank glaring at them or something.” You decided to take a sip of your tea as well. “But I could only make out a faint smile and raised eyebrows when I looked over at him a second time.” You faintly giggled into your mug in reminiscence.

“And?! Did you two get to talk then?” You felt Amy's hand on your right leg and endured the unwittingly inflicted pain of the contact by weaving in a whimper to your next words.

“Eventually, yes, we did. But not until past midnight.”

“No way you were working THAT long on a stupid assignment...” Her exclamation of secondhand distress slightly rubbed you the wrong way.

“It wasn't a stupid assignment and, no, I wasn't working THAT long…” Now you wanted to throw her off course again and chose your following sentence carefully (or not so carefully). “I was laying on his bed when we first talked.”

“What the fuck… Are you serious?… Like – you guys hit it right off? No words exchanged whatsoever?!??”

“Man, the power I now hold…” Your jaunty savagery was unhinged at this point. “I could totally leave you on a cliffhanger there. HA-HA-HA-HAAAA!!!!” A little goofiness wouldn't hurt anyone after a couple of rough days and gloomy nights.

“SHUT UP! Urrrgh…” She was laughing almost angrily – however that sounds – and you felt relieved that she took her hand off your stretched leg a minute ago. “No! Don't shut up! Keep telling! I just… I can't picture it…”

“WELL!” You sipped a little more from your tea before concluding your teasing behavior with “I definitely don't want you picturing stuff that didn't really happen…”

“… Yes?” All you wanted to do was to hug her in that moment of silence and preserve the lightheartedness as long and eagerly as possible.

“Don't worry, sweetheart, those bastards won't bother you again.”

“…”

“These are for you. Dry and warm. I'll be right outside, okay?”

“… Okay.”

“Good…”

“Wait… Thanks, …?”

“Urrh, Pete. And nah, you're all good.”

“Thank you, Pete.”

“… You're welcome.”

#i really enjoy this type of ending for chapters #i dont know #the literary effect there is very smooth in my opinion #you can trace it back and the best part is that every reader's path might look completely different from one another #why am i projecting here #im going to sign a new working contract tomorrow and look what im doing here #urgh #frank castle #my writing #the punisher ff #fan fiction #frank castle ff #the punisher #is my tagging too lousy #idk #couldnt care less

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welldonekhushi · 4 years ago

Text

To Love An Indian | Tony Stark x Desi!Reader

Summary: The reader is a desi woman who was appointed as an assistant by Tony Stark. How will your relationship with the billionaire genius go?

Warnings: All fluff, used Hindi language! Translations are available.

Word Count: 2,914

The special fact about you was, being an Indian was something common about when you live in a western country.

Mostly migrate to other places for finding a job, same as you. Never believed once in your life, you're going to get a job of an assistant. For a billionaire genius, and a superhero.

Everyone in your family was so happy about it, at least they have expectations that their daughter will finally make her name and earn. Maybe find someone special that you find to be perfect in your life?

Your mom and dad always worked hard for you for a better future and lifestyle. They never been so happier when they found out you were being appointed for a job in America. They felt so successful and proud for making their daughter educated enough to send her further.

Your flight was tomorrow, but the nervousness just kicks inside that how would your interview go. It was actually Tony Stark, the genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist. You can't even mess up with him. But, there was one thing which bugged you about, a tingly feeling.

You remember him since the day when the world was saved from the Chitauri invasion, and everyone was celebrating about the victory of heroes. It filled throughout the Indian media, about the new superheroes, named as the Avengers, who fight the inside and outside evils. The moment Iron Man showed on the screen, you were left surprised. You kept staring at the hero saving others and making sure if they're secure.

Mostly! When he opened his mask, and revealed his face, everyone held such shocked faces, like they never knew Iron Man was basically a human inside controlling the suit.

"Lo, hum joh isse robot samaj rahe the, yeh toh insaan nikala!" Your grandmother exclaimed. (Wow, we thought he was robot, but he turned out to be a human?)

"Chodo na, dadi. Hai toh hero, na?" You replied, turning back to the television. (Leave, grandma. At least he's a hero, right?)

But, you kept looking at his face. The way he spoke, the way he actions, and everything. You were lost into the man, that suddenly you revealed your smile, your sister noticing it.

"Didi, kya hogaya?" Your sister broke your contact, making you jerk in an instant. (What's wrong, sis?)

"O-oh, k-kuch nahi. Bas me usse dekh rahi thi, baat karte hue." You stammered, looking back. (Oh, it's nothing. I was just looking at him, talking.)

"Oho, pyaar me toh nahi pad gaye na?" Your sister teased, making you blush. (Oh, are you falling in love, huh?)

"Aree! Pagal toh nahi ho? Of course nahi! Hero hai, respect karti hu." (Hey! Are you crazy? Of course no! He's a hero, and I respect him.)

You did appreciate him, but this kind of respect leading to somewhere else.

It was morning, and the time for your flight. Bidding everyone a heartwarming farewell, hoping to see your family soon again.

"Beta araam se jaana. Maine tere liye bahut saari kheer banayi hai. Kha lena agar bhuk lagi toh, thik hai?" (Dear, go easy while you leave. I made lots of pudding for you, so eat it if you feel hungry, alright?)

"Haa maa, ghabrao nahi. Me araam se jaaungi. Ashirvad do bas." You kneeled down to take blessing from your mom and dad, them giving it back. (Yes, mom don't worry. I'll go easy, just give me your blessing.)

"Khush raho, beti. Kaam karna aur naam roshan karna." Your father removed his spectacles, crying tears for her daughter leaving. (Be happy, my daughter. Work hard and make your name bright.)

You hugged your dad, weeping because he wasn't ready to accept the fact you were now leaving him for a long time. After breaking the hug, you wiped his tears, giving him confidence.

Stepping in the taxi, you bid them goodbye, waving your hand and leaving for the airport.

Your new life now began, the moment you entered America. Landing, you then stayed in the hotel for the night, tired and exhausted. But, along that you wanted to remember your lines, so you quickly revise and go to sleep. In the morning, you hurriedly reach Stark Tower for the interview, since the time was running a bit fast.

Entering in the huge interior, looking at a lot of people working in. It did made your nervousness kick in again, but behaved like a strong woman, just wanting to complete the interview as a badass.

You reached the receptionist. "Excuse me, can you tell me where will Mr. Stark take the interview?"

"Oh, on the 15th floor, meeting rooms."

"Thank you." You smiled, reaching the elevator and waiting for the floor to arrive. Checking your watch, you were two minutes late, but hoping they'll just manage. Entering the room, feeling the slight cold air hitting your skin. It seemed empty, but hoped he was waiting for a while.

"Uhm, Mr. Stark?" You called out.

"Come in, Miss (L/N)." A deep, masculine voice filled through the room, knowing someone was actually in. Stepping inside, and closing the door, you seat yourself, trying to hide away your nervousness. It seemed you were slowly forgetting your lines but, being a strong woman is your passion right? Who even can—

The moment the chair turned around towards your direction, you lost it. It looks like you totally forgot the lines now.

Because Tony Stark just faced in front of you.

Did you just, blush? No, it might be embarassment. But, he too stared at you for a while. It was like an awkward staring contest, but remembering you were here for an interview, you brought yourself back.

"Good morning, Mr. Stark. Sorry for being so late." You wipe off the flick of hair on your face.

"It's okay. At least you were on time." He replied, giving a smile. Damn, it was cute.

"So, Miss (L/N). You're from, India right?" He asked, looking at your documents.

"Y-yes! I'm from India, also fully graduated from college."

"What really made you accept this assistant job?" He started asking questions.

"I just don't want to work for money, but I want to find what better I can do while I'm by myself."

"That's everyone's expectations. We should really try something new, and it's a fact of finding your true self."

"Right." You nodded.

"Alright, I have appointed you, congrats." He closed the document and gave a grin.

You widen your eyes. "What? I-I thought you were going to ask more questions..?"

"I don't ask many of them, I know you're capable for everything so, no need." He shrugged.

"W-wow.. I mean, it's way different back there.. haha. What a prick I am." You chuckled.

"You shouldn't actually be uncomfortable or nervous around me, okay? I'll always be available for your problems." He stood up from his chair, and you also too. Offering his hand for a handshake, and you happily accept it.

"Congratulations for the job, Miss (L/N)."

"Aapka bahut, bahut dhanyawad." You accidentally speak in your language, making you cover your mouth in surprise. (Thank you very much.)

He raised his eyebrow in confusion, not sure what you really meant. "Excuse me?" He tilts his head, smirking.

"I-I meant, thank you for accepting me as your assistant, Mr. Stark.. I'm sorry about that." You replied, trying not to fluster from embarassment. But, it didn't seem to make him feel weird, he was like.. more interested?

"No no, it's fine. Accidents happen, but your language is just beautiful. Just tell me whenever you're about to speak Hindi, JARVIS, my AI will help me translate it." He chuckled, and you laugh back.

"Mr. Stark you're so funny." You shook your head and continued to laugh. He sees you smile, which somehow warmed his heart. You might not notice it, but something was being created in between.

And time actually told that, when you both worked together for a long time.

"Please, call me Tony."

✧

Years while working with Stark, you really enjoyed the job. He was a sweet, generous person who will look after you, hoping nothing worse happens. It kind of made you both like good friends, later on. Everytime you looked at him, some strange feelings always attacked you. You can't even guess what it means, but maybe because you really appreciate him.

One day came, when you even noticed about his weaknesses. It made you worry when he never came upstairs to sleep, so after a lot of convincing, he accepted your plead and slept. Even it became more forward, when Tony faced nightmares, and wanted to sleep with someone by his side.

He had been lonely, and it hurts.

His tired face made you want to rub it gently, and relax him to sleep. But, it looks like, you weren't friends anymore.

The way he became more protective and caring throughout your job in his mansion. Like a boyfriend.

But, the question came, does he even love you back, that you're feeling it all?

In the morning, Tony woke up to see the side of the bed empty. Maybe you were up early and started working. He got up and rubbed his hair, went downstairs to get some coffee. While drinking, he suddenly heard someone.. singing?

It didn't seem like an English song. It was foreign.

He could even hear the feminine sound softly, coming from the othe room.

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji,

Tu ki jaane pyaar mera, me karu intezaar tera,

Tu dil tuhiyo jaan meri

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji,

When he slowly entered the room, you were the one singing while cleaning up the documents. Seriously, he never knew you sang so well. It literally made him feel so surprised, by seeing your other talent. He leaned on the door ledge, hearing you sing beautifully without noticing, like he was lost into it.

Everyday, whenever you used to sing this song while working, he secretly saw you and always adored your voice. It just made him fall in love.

On a particular day, he heard you sing the same song again. He stepped in the room, seeing your beautiful face and voice again.

In midway of your song, you turn around and see him on the doorway, and you gasped. "O-oh, Mr. Stark! G-good morning!"

"Good morning." He replied in his groggy, morning voice. "I never knew you sang so well. You never told me you even sing." He chuckled.

"Really..? I uhm, used to sing but, I had different plans.." You rub your hair, looking embarassed.

"But you sing so well.. I'm amazed." He smiled. "Problem is, I didn't understand because, that's a different language. God, I need to take Hindi classes from you, dang. What does it mean?"

You both laughed. "This song.. uhm actually is about, a lover, explaining his.. other lover that, he can't live without her, because they're deeply attached to each other. It's my favorite song, by the way."

"Oh really? You're into romantic songs, it seems." He raised his eyebrow and smirked, finding a seat.

"Yeah but, uhm.. because they show a lot meaning, even after I'm just a single-pringle, haha. Weird isn't it?"

He stared at you for sometime, it wasn't serious, but gentle. "It's not."

You blushed, don't know why but the tone of his voice dragged into it. Both kept staring at each, and had no idea about the surroundings.

You were the one to break through, coming back to reality. "Oh! S-sorry I just got lost.. a while back."

He got up from his chair, and went closer to your direction. Looking at each other's eyes, he found yours the most beautiful. Felt like he can swim in it. Caressing your cheek and rubbing it with his thumb, you started to panic inside, not able to notice what's happening now.

"Y/N.." He said, in a soft voice. "I.. wanted to ask about something."

You gulped, still flustered. "W-what is it?"

He realised something else, and then cleared his throat. ".. can you, teach me Hindi?"

"Huh?" You looked surprised.

"Yeah, I told a very while back, that I will once ask you to teach me Hindi. I'm very interested, can you please?" He flashed a grin. Like, there was no problem for you to teach him your language. It's good to make others know about your culture.

You gave him a nod as a reply, and he became excited. "Thank you, I'll gladly be your student, Miss Y/N."

✧

For weeks, Tony had been taking Hindi classes from you. I swear, it could have been tough for him, but he was just so interested to learn the language. All you know he was just keen so you were teaching him all that. Giving him assignments and worksheets with grammar, you helped him through everything.

"Maine khana khaya.." You said the words, and waited for him to recite back. (I ate my food.)

"Maine khana.. khaya? Did I say it right?" He replied, in a weird way because his American accent was also mixing in between.

"No no, you're going correctly! Now say it again."

"Maine khana khaya." Tony said it properly.

"Good! I'm proud of you. Damn, Tony. You're going good in this language."

"For you, I can do anything, even learning a tough language."

The moment which left you blank again. He still fixed his soft eyes with yours, clearing your throat to break the tension.

"Okay so, do you have any doubts so far?

"Well, uh. I have a doubt, many of them." He rubbed his nose.

"Ask me."

He first rubs his hands nervously, then looks back at you. "How do you say.. love in Hindi?"

"Oh, well.. pyaar." You replied, being straightforward.

"Okay.. now how do we say, you're beautiful in it?"

You felt a tingly feel in your stomach, but still continued. "Tum khoobsurat ho."

He chuckles. "Alright. Now, if I ask my final doubt.. how do I say.. I love you?"

You gasped. Did he really mean it? Clenching your pen, you became nervous.

"Tell me, my love. I want to know about it."

".. me tumse pyaar karta hu."

"Yes, that is what I wanted to hear." He skids closer to you, growing close to your face.

"Mujhe tumse pyaar hai." He said, properly in Hindi. You felt like to explode. Tony Stark.. loves you?

Suddenly, he gets up from the couch, offering his hand. You grab it and get up, till a familiar song plays in the room.

Tony grabbed your waist from one arm and your hand from the other, swifting to the movements as if they're dancing.

He started singing the song, when the verse began.

- play it now! -

youtube

"Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji.." He sang the line so perfectly. You were just shocked and surprised. Both were dancing like a couple on stage.

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji..

Tu ki jaane pyaar mera, me karu intezaar tera,

Tu dil tuhiyo jaan meri

Main tainu samjhawan ki, na tere bina lagda ji..

While he was singing your favorite song, you were about to burst in tears. You never believed it. The billionaire genius, actually loved you this whole time. Happily resting your head on his chest, he continued to dance while holding you close. When the song finished, he still saw the tears in your eyes.

"D-did you wanted to learn Hindi.. b-because of all this?" Your voice cracked.

"Yes, my love. Just for you. I have to tell this but.. I fell in love the moment I saw you for the first time. Your smile, laugh, voice, behavior, eyes.. and your.."

"And your.. what?"

He sighed, and then leaned to close the gap between your lips. The kiss was sweet yet passionate, like he waited for this moment.

He pulled off for air, both of your gazes neutrally looking. "I'm surprised that I fell in love with an Indian, like you. But, you're pretty, no matter what nationality you belong to. You changed my life Y/N. Trust me, the way you took care of, pampered, and worried for me.. I can never forget that. I really love you for that, my love. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.. d-do you accept me as your boyfriend?"

You started to sob, clenching his shirt tight. Maybe she wasn't happy about it. "L-look, if you don't accept, it's okay.. you deserve. Alot better than—"

"Yes, yes and a million times yes!" You said excitedly, and he sighs in relief. "Did you like.. learn the entire song?"

"Yeah, I even did take help from JARVIS for the translation, also from your teachings, never forgetting that." He winked.

"Oh god.." You laughed.

"But come on, you didn't like it? Tell me!"

"I did, Tony. And I want to thank you for it, a lot."

He gently wipes off your tears, and kisses your forehead. "Now, do you want to celebrate for our engagement?"

"Like where, Mr. Stark?" You said, flirtatiously.

He darkens his eyes, and picks you in the bridal style. "Right in our shared bedroom, sweetheart." He takes you in the room while giggling, shutting the door from inside.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x desi!reader #desi reader #tony stark fanfiction #marvel #marvel india #marvel x reader #avengers x reader

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bill-y · 4 years ago

Text

INURE

Peeta Mellark x male reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part five: Click here, butters, elpacho, last meheecan.

Part six: You're here, dumb!

Part seven: Finally here!

Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass

Peeta and I end up helping Haymitch to his compartment, the reek of vomit and alcohol wasn't exactly pleasant. Since we couldn't set him down the bed, we ended up hauling him to the bathtub, setting the shower on him.

Peeta gave me an odd look when I laughed awhile ago; there was no humour in the situation after all. Forming a good impression wasn't really on my agenda. "It's alright; I can take it from here," he said.

I nodded, "Okay," I nodded, putting my lips together. "Do you—need me to call those Capitol people?" I asked, stumbling over my words. My confidence seemed to have been drained at some point.

He shook his head "No, I don't want them," he responded. I nod for the last time and head to my own room, relieved that I don't have to wash putrid vomit off Haymitch's chest hair, or something. Though it would be the perfect "revenge" for the people working here, I get why he doesn't want to see them.

I wonder, why does he want to help such a wreck? Was he simply kind like the time he gave me bread? Or was he using this to gain Haymitch's favour? A feeling of nervousness bubbled up within me, a kind Peeta Mellark was way more dangerous than an unkind one. Not everyone in the district can afford to be kind, so kind people make such a mark on me.

I looked at the packet of cookies at the table beside the fancy bed—a lump formed in my throat. Kindness would've been nice, but not in this situation. I sighed, taking my attention to the window instead.

There stood a lonely yellow flower, a dandelion. It took me back to the schoolyard, all those years ago. My eyes had just left Peeta's bruised face when I saw that dandelion; hope rose within me that moment, I plucked it gently from the ground and hurried home. I grabbed a small, broken bucket and grabbed Nal's hand and headed to a meadow. It was filled with the same flowers.

It was the first moment where Nal smiled after our Father's death. He loved the way the flowers smelled and looked. However, he was quite upset because we had to eat them, with the rest of the bakery bread. My father loved his plants, maybe a bit too much.

I remember countless hours we spent in the woods looking for a specific type of plant, whether for eating or for medicine. He had me memorize them by heart, which took a couple of years because I got distracted halfway through.

The next day, we were off to school. I hung around the edge of the meadow after, contemplating whether I should jump the fence. My mother couldn't get a job, well, she didn't want to. She thought the whole District would shame her the moment she stepped out of our crumbling home. It made no sense to me; we had nothing to lose anymore.

Which is exactly why I went under the fence, retrieved the old, leather-bound daggers my father made from scraps and wood. It was pretty frail, but if you handle it carefully and throw it properly, it won't break—most of the time.

I didn't go beyond twenty yards that day; I didn't feel confident enough to go deeper, fearing I'd get lost in the forest. I took home a small rabbit that day, we hadn't had meat for months, so it honestly looked like a full course meal, like the one we were served in the tribute train.

My mother isn't the greatest cook, so she burnt a couple of bits, mainly the thighs. But it still filled us. The woods became my second home, escaping the sad atmosphere my mother gave off and the pressure the Peacekeepers would regularly make us feel.

The hunting started slow, but each time I went under, I went deeper. I stole eggs from nests, jumped from tree to tree and managed to shoot a squirrel or two down. I struggled with the fish; my father would always throw his dagger to the fish with little to no effort. Whenever I'd throw mine, it would miss. It took me a couple of times to figure out the water distorts my vision.

The plants were no effort; I knew which one to pick, which ones were poisonous. The signs of danger used to terrify me back to the fence until I gathered enough courage to climb the tall trees, then I stuck with it, not liking the feeling of being chased. The wild dogs would always leave me alone after a while.

On July 15th, I finally signed up for the tesserae, carrying the first batch of grains and oils in the same broken bucket I used to gather those dandelions. I patched it up with some scrap bark. On the 15th of every month, I would put my name once again. I still had to hunt; grains weren't enough. We still needed soap, milk, thread and many more things we used to have. I began to trade in the hob, learning how to hold my tongue in the process. My father used to trade there as well; he used to do all the talking while I watched, stayed silent.

And so I simply tossed the game I had to their tables. They caught on fairly quick; I'd only speak up when it came to bargaining or when I'd change what'd I'd buy. Or when I would insult wild dog soup. My father was a charismatic man, always able to persuade people to buy whatever. Not me, though, I was like a sore thumb. Painful, to talk to at least.

My mother wasn't very enthralled with the fact that I had been hunting, too much like my father, she said. That's when we argued, "Don't be stupid like your father!" she shouted. I remember my face contorting to anger, how my fists clenched as she continued to scream.

I finally exploded, "Why don't you go out and get a job if you don't want me hunting, then? You'd rather we starve?!" I said, slamming the table. "I won't die, I won't end up like father! I won't be Capitol's pig, neither was he!"

"But if you do die?" She argued back, tears flowing down her cheeks as she gripped both my shoulders. "I'm only thinking of you, Y/n!"

I scoffed, glaring at her, "If you're thinking of us so much, then why aren't you helping us?! If I don't die being accused of rebellion, then I'll die because of those stupid games because of you!"

"Don't blame me for this! It was your father's fault for being brash—" She reasoned, but I cut her off by pushing her off me. I stared at her as if she grew three heads. "They asked you," I whispered, "All you did was nod, you could've lied."

Her green eyes shook at my words, "Lie to the Peacekeepers? The Capitol? And get us killed as well?! I only what your father wanted,"

"They didn't have anything on father! It was your voice that gave it away! It's your fault that he's dead, now we're over here starving because you can't get over yourself—"

Then there was a sting on my cheek. She had slapped me. My eyes landed on a crying Kunal; guilt surged through me, so I ran. I ran to the woods and slept on top of a tree, humming a soft tune to the mockingjays next to me. They listened and sung back. I fell asleep to their lullaby, surprisingly, not falling off.

I found my hand on the same cheek my mother slapped that day. I was going to die the same way I said, how ironic. I won't be able to apologize or tell my mother I loved her anymore. A sigh left my lips as I continued to stare out the window.

I clenched my fists, punching the wall as my breath hitched. I let out a groan, holding the stinging part of my hand. I glared at the wall, grumbling under my breath before I decided to fall asleep, not wanting to think of my regrets and what I could've done. As I closed my eyes, I only hoped my dreams would be pleasant.

"Up! Up! Up! It's a big big day!"

Effie Trinket's voice awoke me from my dreamless slumber. I groaned, muttering profanities as she left my compartment. I tried to imagine what it was like in that stupid wig--- well--- head of hers, it made my head hurt.

I had fallen asleep in the green shirt, causing it to become wrinkled, the. Not that I cared, there will be some stylist stripping me anyways. I shuddered at the thought of Capitol people touching me, what a nightmare. My eyes landed on the packet of cookies on my bedside table. I decided to grab it.

I entered the dining compartment, still half-lidded and yawning. Effie Trinket brushes me with a cup of black coffee. She was muttering obscenities, probably because of Haymitch. Peeta held a roll, looking somewhat embarrassed "Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch said.

Peeta flashed me a smile, amused by how dishevelled I look. To be fair, I wasn't a morning person, I find waking up to be a tiring task. I rubbed my eyes, the packet of cookies still in my hands as I slid down the chair.

They served an enormous platter of food. I'd hate to admit it, but I was starving. So for the first time, I decided to stab it with the fork, not sure what to do with the cookies so I pocketed them. I figured I'd eat them much. . . much later.

I chewed slowly, glare on my face as my eyes struggled to remain open. I didn't even notice the orange juice next to me because of it. Peeta nudged me, handing me a cup of brown, rich liquid. It was quite warm. "They call it hot chocolate," he said. "It's quite good,"

My green eyes moved from him to the cup, then back to him. As if asking for permission. I sniffed, muttering a "thank you," before I took the cup from him. The moment the hot chocolate touched my lips I felt awake.

Not only was it hot, but it was also amazing. I've never tasted anything like this before. Coffee was a luxury, this I cannot even fathom. After I've drained my cup, I put it down and muster a sheepish smile. "Is there more?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

Effie seemed to be excited by my sudden interest. "Glad you're finally appreciating the finer things," she quipped as another cup was passed to me. "Right," I responded, gripping the cup tightly.

I stopped eating when I felt somewhat full, only asking for more hot chocolate. Peeta is still eating, breaking off bits of roll and dipping them in his hot chocolate.

Haymitch hasn’t paid much attention to his platter, but he’s knocking back a glass of red juice that he keeps thinning with a clear liquid from a bottle. Judging by the fumes, it’s some kind of spirit. I don’t know Haymitch, but I’ve seen him often enough in the Hob, tossing handfuls of money on the counter of the woman who sells white liquor. He’ll be a mess again by the time we reach the Capitol.

"So, you're supposed to give us advice," I said, taking a sip of the hot liquid. He grinned, "Here's some advice, stay alive," then he burst out laughing.

My brows furrowed, "Ha. Ha." I let out, unamused. I glanced to Peeta, surprised to see Hardness in his eyes. Usually, he looked mild. "That's very funny," he said as if adding to my remark. He suddenly lashed out at the glass in Haymitch's hands. It shattered, spilling the blood-red liquid on the floor. "Only not to us,"

Haymitch took this opportunity to punch Peeta straight in the jaw, knocking the boy out of his chair before turning around to reach for more spirits. I stopped him, driving a knife into the table, between his hand and the bottle, barely missing his fingers.

I expected some sort of retaliation, but that didn't come. "Oh, well what is this?" he said. "Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"

Peeta rose from the floor and scoops up a handful of ice from under the fruit tureen. He started to raise it to the red mark on his jaw.

"No," Haymitch stopped him. "Let the bruise show. The audience will think you’ve mixed it up with another tribute before you’ve even made it to the arena."

"That’s against the rules," said Peeta. "Only if they catch you. That bruise will say you fought, you weren’t caught, even better," said Haymitch. He turns to me. “Can you hit anything other than the table?"

I shrugged, pulling the knife off the table. "Your head or. . ." I said, before tossing the knife in between the seams of two panels. If I was confident at one thing, it's my aim. But not so much with a bow.

"Stand over here. Both of you," ordered Haymitch, nodding to the middle of the room. We obey and he circles us, prodding us like animals at times, checking our muscles, examining our faces. “Well, you’re not entirely hopeless. Seem fit. And once the stylists get hold of you, you’ll be attractive enough.”

Peeta and I don’t question this. The Hunger Games aren’t a beauty contest, but the best-looking tributes always seem to pull more sponsors. Though I do enjoy the fact that the stylists are likely going to have a hard time styling me.

"All right, I’ll make a deal with you. You don’t interfere with my drinking, and I’ll stay sober enough to help you," said Haymitch. "But you have to do everything I say,"

Of course, there's a catch. "Fine," Peeta said while I shrugged carelessly, sipping on my hot chocolate. "In a few minutes, we’ll be pulling into the station. You’ll be put in the hands of your stylists. You’re not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don’t resist," Instructed Haymitch

Oh, well there goes my plan on being a general nuisance. Damn you, Haymitch.

He takes the bottle of spirits from the table and leaves the car. As the door swings shut behind him, the car goes dark. There are still a few lights inside, but outside it’s as if night has fallen again. I realize we must be in the tunnel that runs up through the mountains into the Capitol. The mountains form a natural barrier between the Capitol and the eastern districts. It is almost impossible to enter from the east except through the tunnels. This geographical advantage was a major factor in the districts losing the war that led to my being a tribute today. Since the rebels had to scale the mountains made them easy targets for the Capitol's air forces.

Peeta and I stood in silence. My finger raised, mouth opening but I decided it wasn't worth it and awkwardly shuffled to one of the windows. He seemed to have caught on, however. "Nice view, isn't it?" he joked.

"I guess if you're blind," I answered dryly, raising the warm cup to my lips. "Sophisticated darkness, my favourite type," I finished.

He chuckled, walking next to me, the train slowing on cue. My muscles tensed as the sunlight entered the compartment. It was blinding. After my eyes adjusted I finally saw the Capitol.

I would be lying if I said it wasn't beautiful. Rainbow hued buildings that tower to the sky, possibly beyond. Shiny cars rolling on the fancy, clean pavement streets. The cameras failed to capture its beauty. It would've been perfect if not for the fact that the oddly dressed colours, wearing blizzard wigs and painted faces exist.

They looked painfully artificial. I much prefer the natural tones of district 12. "Eugh, how do they look at themselves?" I muttered, catching the attention of Peeta, who chuckled at my comment.

Huh, I forgot that he was there.

The same disgusting people began to point at us, enthralled. I was sickened, they couldn't wait to watch us kill each other like wild wolves. I suppose that's better than ending up at soup.

I stepped back, a scowl on my face. No longer able to stand the obnoxious attires and the mocking smiles of scums. Peeta held his ground, smiling and waving at them.

He only stopped when the train stopped at the station, blocking up from their view. "Who knows?" he said. "Some of them may be rich."

My body seemed to freeze as I took one last sip of the now-luke warm hot chocolate. That's when I realized, I had misjudged him. Not that I can read people well.

Which made sense, if I could I would've known that his father visiting me, offering to help Haymitch only to challenge him and now, waving and smiling at those slugs. He had a plan in mind.

He hasn't accepted his death yet. Peeta Mellark, the boy who gave me bread was fighting hard.

And that terrified me.

word count: 2.8k

Hey guys! sorry for the long wait! Had to take a break!

tags;

@nin3s

#hunger games x reader #hunger games #hunger games x male reader #male reader insert #male reader #peeta mellark x male reader #peeta mellark x reader #x male reader #peetamellark #gale #male x male reader #male reader series #gay #mlm #mlm fanfic

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johns-prince · 4 years ago

Note

John also had a lovely mix of masculine and feminine physical traits, though this wouldn't become obvious until 1968. When he was on the skinny side (which I loved, sue me) you could tell how beautifully delicate and dainty his bone structure was, way more than Paul's imo. He had those gorgeous long legs and graceful narrow hips that you most commonly find in fashion models. And I love that until at least 1975, he showcased his body beautifully, especially those legs.

Ironically I feel as if people didn't embrace John's femme beauty as well as they did with Paul. I don't know why. Most people seem to prefer him with the more masculine look of 1966. Which was great as well, he was gorgeous but I am a big fan of the 1968 to 1974 run. Btw, note to fanfic writers: please, show John's body some love, I know Paul is stunning but it's kind of exhausting reading 10 pages about how pretty he is and when it comes to my boy John he barely gets a paragraph 😂

Alright, I feel like I’m probably gonna rub a lot of people in this fandom the wrong way with what I’m going to say but this is my blog and you did send this to my inbox so here we go; At the end of the days these are my thoughts and feelings and I might not articulate them very well or I often ramble till I do!

I have my issues, and a complicated relationship with 1968-70s John Lennon. I love John, and thought him healthy and just right in his body type, basically up until 1968, and it’s spotty onward throughout the 70s. To me, John was naturally masculine looking, there’s not exactly an era or year that I could give you like you gave me [Specifically 1966? What about his teddy boy days? All of the early 60s? Hell even throughout the 70s, to me John still was masculine looking to me] He was a bit awkward in his teenhood, but all the boys were, and gradually grew into his adult body. Boy was built and sturdy, naturally thick and strong.

So we’re probably split on this, because while you see the positives in 1968-1974/70s John, I only really see the negatives. You say skinny, I say malnourished and/or sickly. Depressed druggie who was pushing everyone and everything he loved away, and becoming pathetically dependent on an individual like Yoko [and the other vultures during that time who were terrible influences]

George was skinny, John was not well and either starving himself or simply using drugs and alcohol as the basis for his diet. And diets.. don’t even get me started on that, the diets he was on, the unhealthy lifestyle that his wife only seemed to enable and help him get on.

When I look at George, sometimes I get the need to feed him, like an old Mexican mother. When I look at John, who’d lost an unhealthy amount of weight for what it looked like for his body type, I don’t see delicate and dainty bone structure. I see a man who just, he’s not well, something’s wrong.

I’ll give it to you that 1974 New York photoshoot looked very nice, he had muscle again in his arms, though he was still relatively skinny, he didn’t look sickly, or depressed. So I can give you that period during the 70s, I will give you that [hey he was away from Yoko during this no fucking wonder he looked pretty good here] and that shoot was definitely a model moment, wasn’t it? [Not like he didn’t have many of those moments throughout his life]

So there moments in the seventies where I think John doesn’t look half bad? Even relatively fine? Certainly, I’m devastatingly attracted to this man, dear God almighty have mercy on my soul yes I am. So I’ll agree that yeah, there were periods during the 70s in which John seemed to hold himself fairly well, I’d still climb it.

But I’m at least willing to admit that when John started his spiraling, in 1968, that he was Not Okay. And I personally believe he wasn’t all that okay throughout most of the 70s too... Maybe my issue isn’t with him being ‘skinny’ as it is I don’t like the underweight/severely underweight look on John, I just don’t. The incredibly unhealthy way he went about losing weight... Physically frail doesn’t fit him, and it only upsets me whenever I see photos of him that show how thin his legs became or how you can see his ribs, just how wasted away he’d look at times throughout the 70s, up until the last days of his life.

You want a “skinny” or ''skinnier'' John Lennon? A healthy, ‘’skinny/skinnier’’ John Lennon for his body type, is ‘66 and ‘67 in my eyes, and even then it wasn’t a radical change in weight loss; John still looked like John.

And speaking of 1968-1969, or the White Album era; don’t think it isn’t lost on me when I see people making light of John’s unhygienic appearance during the making of the White Album. Boy was depressed and hurting for whatever reason, again, spiraling, and getting lost in Yoko and heroin as a means of escapism and someone to tell him ‘it’s alright it isn’t your fault it’s everyone else’s fault’. Of course he didn’t care much for his personal appearance or hygiene... I will say I appreciate your appreciation for him during that period, instead of getting the whole ‘stinky/smelly rat man.’ Maybe I’m too much of a ‘’stan’’ but I don’t find it very amusing or endearing.

Don’t find me mocking or ‘’teasing’’ Paul’s depressed ass and his appearance during the breakup period/white album era-- but I suppose it’s because Paul actually tried and wasn’t on hard drugs, and had a good wife, so he was able to wear his depression and struggle with alcoholism a bit better, hmm? I don’t like Paul’s beard simply because I know it was the result of his lack of energy, depression, and falling into the drink-- he simply didn’t feel the need nor had the energy to care for himself, so that’s why he let it grow out. I don’t like it because of that, but that’s as much as you’ll get from me.

Anyway... Maybe I just don’t see John as characteristically feminine/effeminate as Paul, although he has his moments of acting and wearing clothes that are campy and elegant or give off a softer appearance, specifically around 1968 and throughout the 70s. But otherwise, I can’t agree, John didn’t have the same mixture, or balance of masculine and feminine traits as Paul-- and if it’s only made obvious during the downfall turning point of The Beatles and John (1968), then I don’t think that really counts as a ‘’lovely’’ mix of masculine and feminine traits for the reasons I mentioned. So I’ve got to disagree. John's always come off as much more masculine, or naturally masculine, both physically and characteristically, to me.

You know maybe it’s just the blogs I interact with, but I feel like it’s the other way around. I know I can sometimes come off as aggressive but at the end of the day I don’t necessarily care what one person thinks or believes, since it’s all relatively subjective to our own ideas of things and biases, etc... I have my thoughts and beliefs and theories and whether people agree or disagree with them on tumblr dot com... Well, what’re you gonna do? Nothing, it’s not my problem.

What I 100% agree on you with is about showing Johnny’s body a bit more love and attention to detail when it comes to writing about him in fanfiction!

There’s his auburn red hair, a darker ginger, which was thick and fun to watch as it lit up like fire when sunlight hit him, and could easily go wavy and curl when left unkempt and natural. The splattered and scattered galaxies of light freckles up and down his arms, his shoulders, his back, even a couple on his face. His aquiline nose, a relatively square jawline and facial structure, thick, heavy eyebrows which really intensify expressions of rage and hurt, almond shaped eyes which are the color of honey-amber when the light hits them just right and outlined with thick, long lashes, blind as a bat without his glasses but can give a mean squint which either helps scare off trouble, or brings it right to him, especially when he’s got thin bitten lips that could pull off a devilishly cheeky smirk or a no-good, charming grin to showcase teeth with the upper front turned slightly in towards each other, gives that imperfection which truly just perfects it-- a face like that of a tragic hero in a Greek Romance, distinctive and handsome. How he just oozed filthy sex and genuine trouble, sweaty leather and smoky dancehalls and rock & roll that crawls up your spine like an orgasm. Hips that could roll like Elvis and strong legs, thick thighs which would make a lovely place to sit. Broad shoulders, strong arms that could easily manage to lift you up and manhandle you in any way he’d like. Big hands, almost like shovels-- beautiful hands, with fingernails usually bitten short and occasionally had black ink or charcoal under them from when he’d be working on art, and rough, callused fingertips from playing guitar till they split and bleed, add a lovely roughness to any gentle touching he might do. A naturally thick midsection, a normal, healthy layer of fat which covers the sinewy just beneath. Any hair is light, light and lightly colored, on his arms and legs and chest. Cute tush, nice butt, a nice boy butt, slightly muscular bubble butt.

Fun facts; he had the largest feet out of all four Beatles. John isn’t circumcised. John and George share the same height. John has a surprisingly long tongue. John’s skin tone may be light, but for comparison, he’s much tanner compared to Paul-- he’s a bit more olive or wheat to his skin tone, and tanned very, very well. John’s cheeks could become easily red though. John liked the scent of citrus to wear-- he was also self conscious about the fact he could easily sweat and so usually wore such colognes or scents, didn’t want to smell bad. He started smelling of witch hazel when with Yoko. Despite his issue with sweating, he didn’t smell bad naturally. John was a true romantic, being an artist outside of being a musician/rock and roller-- he just didn’t like to show it, and growing up in his time, you couldn’t. John’s a swimmer, he loved to swim and loved the ocean.

#questionsquestionsquestions #beatles discussion/discourse #these are my feelings and thoughts and i can't feel bad for them

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Chapter 5. We have stucky, we have stevesambucky friendship, we have a new place to live and strange being a good guy because tony definitely ranted at him. Also, we're beginning the creepy part of the plot. I have decided that sam will be one of the main platonic characters in this story because I love sam.

fun fact: I used to be a creepypasta writer! Going back to my roots here, hehe.

Things had stated changing, for better or worse, much sooner than I had been prepared for - but was anyone, ever, really ready for the next big step? Certainly not me - the view that greeted me after I'd finished my shift at Jeremy's was peculiar and unexpected, so I froze, eyebrows high at the two super-soldiers parked, once again, illegally, right in front of the entrance door.

"Hi, doll," Bucky was reclined against his boyfriend comfortably, his bike standing a pace behind Steve's, who nodded companionably, a sheepish grin on his face.

"G'day," I nodded, eyeing them warily. "I think I know where this is going..."

"No, no, nothing like that," both men frantically waved their hands around, Steve coming up close to approach me slowly. "You're not in trouble. I came out here to say thanks," giving a sappy look to the grouch that was his boyfriend, Steve reached into his pocket and handed me a slip of paper. "Just, uh..."

"Those are our phone numbers. Don't hesitate to give either one of us a call if someone bothers you," Bucky took over the stammering blonde, shaking his head at the soft blush that blossomed on the good captain's face. The brunette wrapped an arm around Steve's shoulders with a shy smile of his own. "Or if you, I don't know, need someone to carry your groceries or something," he snorted. "The punk wouldn't leave it alone until we came out personally to thank you, the sap."

The laughter bubbled up from my chest as I grabbed and pocketed the paper, throughly amused and at the endearing gesture. "Sure, thanks."

"And, uh," Bucky's eyes briefly looked to the side. "We'd appreciate if you keep the status of our relationship to yourself for now. We're not, like, officially out yet."

I froze in place, mouth falling open. Surely they were aware that anybody with a functional pair of eyes could see that they were much more than 'good, lifelong friends'. "No problem, guys. Lemme know if anyone gives you shit about it though, this place," I gestured to the café behind me, "is strictly paparazzi and homophobe-free."

Steve's grin grew even more genuine. "Yeah, we heard all about it from Tony and Stephen. Said 'twas the only place they go these days."

I wasn't aware of that. "It's the paps, isn't it?" I remembered Tony's remarks.

Bucky shook his head, the metals of his prosthetic arm whirring as it recalibrated. "Not only. The public hasn't had the best reaction to a man goin' out with a man," the brunette looked away to the side, where Steve's face had fallen considerably. "And Tony's an eccentric rich man. We're jus' two soldiers. The US Army won't be too happy if we... Came out," both men were crestfallen yet determined.

I had a hunch nothing would be able to separate the two - seeing as not even seventy-odd years and brainwashing and ice couldn't keep the captain and his sarge apart, I doubted that a few government weasels could successfully do the job. Even so, it was unpleasant, to say the least, to see them deny themselves something that technically was perfectly fine in the 21st century.

I chewed on my lip, gathering my wits. "I've clocked out, I can tell you this as a friend- as a person. You don't owe the army jack shit. They do not own you, you are your own person that they experimented their German knockoff steroids on. Respectfully, fuck that shit." I firmly stated my opinion, figuring that there should have been at least someone that told Steve that he is more than his star-spangled uniform and giant metal frisbee.

The blonde scrunched his eyebrows together, fingers gripping onto his belt until the knuckles went white, the hard line of his jaw set firm.

Bucky laugh took me by surprise. "Agreed, doll. I'm too old to be hiding in back alleys and shit," he clapped on his boyfriend's shoulder. "Although I'm happy enough with just not going to prison for bein' in love with this idiot."

"Jerk," Steve's responding pout was downright adorable now that I knew the circumstances surrounding their relationship.

Which wasn't exactly surprising. As a barista, I knew my fair share about my regulars' love lives, their jobs, their kids. The tea was almost always piping hot. "Bye, boys," I smiled at them warmly, throwing a glance at the time, adjusting the strap of my bag for comfort. "Stay outta trouble!"

Steve scrambled for his bike, having noticed my pointed gesture. "Sorry, didn't mean to hold you back. There, I have a spare helmet," he gestured behind him. "I'll give you a ride."

"There's no way in Hell I'm getting on that death trap!" I shouted cheerfully, walking briskly towards my second job, hiding a laugh in the warmth of my scarf as two very offended motorcycle-loving gay fossils sped past me, making truly incredible amounts of noise. Good for them.

Odette was content to let me rummage around the bodega without showing herself more than necessary, taking her appointments and doing- well, witch stuff, I guess, only coming out to poke at the various jars for ingredients.

"Star, I have a proposition for you," right before closing time, Odette's voice filled out the store with its low drawl. "A good friend of mine owns an apartment building, not far from here actually, and one tenant recently moved out. It's a safe space for those who are different," she enunciated the last word, fixing it with a pointed stare. "She's not overly fond of total strangers coming to live there. The rent is reduced and the apartment itself is slightly bigger and more fashionable than yours..."

"Where's the catch?" I found myself interrupting her. I wouldn't lie: the reduced rent and increased size of the apartment did interest me, as well as the probability of a kinder, more involved landlord. My current one was - not the best, but such was life in the NYC.

"There are a few rules to follow, rules that might seem strange at first but they'll make sense in time. And your neighbors might be also a little... Unusual," Odette carefully studied my face for any signs of displeasure.

I sighed.

And then I sighed some more as I was signing my new lease in a few days' time, having spoken with Porter, my new landlord, and his boyfriend who had claws and fangs- after so much time spent around Odette's, I didn't even blink. The couple liked me enough to extend a secure but flexible offer and some furniture to choose from the attic where they kept the spares.

I quite liked the large, vintage couch I placed next to the wide bow windows in the living room. The floors were hardboard and well-kept, the walls a nice, homely shade of green and Porter didn't mind any new holes in them that might arise from hanging up decorations. I scheduled a thrift crawl at the next possible opportunity, happy with the "good employee" bonus Odette had given me after I sealed the deal.

My stuff was boxed up, a sleepless night and a call to a begrudging Jeremy to have a couple of days off to move; I was, thankfully, not late on my schedule and all that I had left was to rent a car to move the boxes of my things and the few pieces of furniture I had decided to keep - my haul in Porter's attic had been incredibly rewarding and my new apartment had all the basics to make it look like a warm, inviting bohemian home in a while.

My phone rang suddenly, startling interruption to the romcom I was watching as I ate my last lunch in my old apartment. "Hello?" I answered the number without looking.

"Hi, doll," Bucky's voice rang out cheerful. "A little witch told me you were moving. I thought you might need a hand?"

I blanked momentarily, the thought of enlisting two very busy super-soldiers to haul ten boxes and two endtables worth of stuff not having crossed my mind at all. "Is this the moment when you stop by my house just to unattach and put your prosthetic arm somewhere and leave?" I asked, hearing distinctive snickering - several more people were with him.

The cheer in his voice blossomed into a full belly laugh. "You're funny," he teased me. "And thanks for the idea. But no, I have a room full of men that have nothing better to do but get on my nerves. Might as well make 'em useful," his accented drawl thickened the more we spoke. Muted cheers rang out in the background.

"Uh, sure," who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I rattled off my address and warned them I didn't have a car, after which Bucky assured me it will be taken care of. The last remaining knick-knacks packed away, I went down to take out the trash, and returned to four people standing in front of my apartment building, all except one unrecognisable in their civilian clothes. "Hello," I waved at them, side-eyeing the tallest, grumpiest man of the bunch.

Stephen Strange was there, looking around curiously, hands in the pockets of his plain grey hoodie. I had already forgotten how normal he looked without his robes, and, frankly speaking, I preferred him like that. His title and the attire that came with it were quite intimidating.

"Hey there," a dark-skinned man who I recognised to be the Falcon, raised his hand. I had not met him yet. "I'm Sam, Sam Wilson. You must be the Star we're helping?" His quick once-over and the tilt to his lips; the ease with which he flirted had me brandishing smirks of my own. I led them all upstairs, Stephen's silence being just so loud. Sam, however, had no such reservations. "So, you're a witch, right?" Wow, subtlety was his middle name.

"Yes, I'll show you my broomstick," I deadpanned, wiggling my eyebrows at him with a grim look.

"Woah woah," Sam raised his hands as the three men behind us snickered loudly. "What happened to 'how are you? let's have dinner sometime'?"

I did my best imitation of an evil cackle as I let them through my front door. The four newcomers looked around my nearly empty apartment with muted interest before zeroing in on the pile of things in the corner: a few pieces of furniture and nearly taped boxes. Should be a walk in the park for four men.

A hand on my arm pulled me from the stupor of observing Sam, Bucky and Steve act like a well-oiled trio, bantering and teasing each other as they discussed how to best move the things.

"Look," Stephen Strange had all the appearance of a chastised puppy. "I wanted to apologize for my behaviour that day. I was out of line," the low notes in his voice made the appearance of the apology being somewhat reluctant. Tony probably put him to it after our little burger run.

Irregardless, I wasn't looking to make any enemies. "Me too, I was under stress - not that I'm using it as an excuse," to give where it's due, I nodded at the sorcerer, immediately awestruck by the easy, boyish smile that stretched on his lips.

"You are strong," he added. "If you would like to learn our ways, we would welcome you." There was a spark in his eyes, something belonging to man that respected and collected knowledge. My own respect for him grew immensely just from that one thing.

"I'll think about it," I offered amicably, however, I still leaned heavily towards a negative answer to that particular proposition. I liked my current way of life.

Strange's grin made a momentary second appearance, until Sam's voice rang loudly: "Fire in the hole, Wizard-man," causing the former to groan loudly and look at me.

"Think about your new place for a second," he spoke, briefly touching out fingertips. As soon as that was over, a golden circle with my new living room on the other side of it appeared quietly, Strange's hands immediately going back into his pockets after that. I sighed and pointed the men into it, stepping in a second after. The sorcerer wasn't far behind. "You could learn that, too, you know," he added wryly, having seen my look of mild envy directed at him.

"I think I'll be good with having the 'pissed off the sorcerer Supreme and lived' pass for now," I retorted with an eyeroll, turning around to stare him down.

He had the decency to look somewhat sheepish, at least. "I'm not like my predecessor," his words were chosen carefully. "And, to be honest, I have no clue as to why your... Boss is so hostile towards me- us," Strange looked around the room before unceremoniously beelining for the couch and plopping down on it.

"Not to be a gossip," I started, slightly intrigued. "But Odette and some lady she called ancient had mad beef," I slipped into casual language easily, trying to recall the details of Odette's, quite often jumbled, stories. "Sounded almost like territorial disputes," I shrugged. "And the apprentices Odette took on before me found themselves in all kinds of compromising situations," I chewed on my lip. "Like the Arctic."

Strange rubbed his face with a noisy groan, large hands doing nothing to mask the resignation and slight embarrassment.

I focused on the thin, red scars on his hands - they had to have been something serious, the way slight tremors betrayed the deteriorating state of the nerves in his fingers. I frowned, quickly averting my gaze before he could catch me ogling him. The fact thag Stephen kept his hands in his pockets or covered by gloves at all times didn't go over my head.

He muttered something to himself, something that sounded like he was often forced to clean up his predecessor's mess. "I see," was the only thing he'd offered me, looking slightly pitiful and apologetic.

"Well," I started, noting the last of my stuff was about to be in its rightful place, "as long as you don't toss me into the ocean, I think we can coexist peacefully."

"Tony would kill me if I'd tried," Stephen groused.

"Probably," I agreed. "Considering the fact he hit on me, for you, it would make one hell of a lover's quarrel," my hand pointed towards the kitchen as Steve and Sam carried in the boxes aptly labeled "kitchen", looking around a place to put them down.

"Tony did what now?" Stephen's tone dropped, a wry smirk decorating his lips as he eyed me through his lashes.

"Don't ask me," I raised my palms, feeling my eyes widen. "He's chaos personified and Satan only knows what he's got on his mind."

That squeezed a laugh out of the tall man, followed by a fond, sappy smile as he looked out of my large, panoramic window, probably thinking of Tony himself. There was no doubt, Stephen Strange was utterly and throughly head over heels in love with Tony Stark. Good for them, good for them.

"A-and that's it," Bucky walked in, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel I'd provided them earlier. "I took some liberties and assembled the furniture, Steve is stacking the dishes as we speak," the brunette noisily plopped down next to me, arm carelessly thrown behind me on the back of the couch.

"Oh, um," I stammered, unused to such random gestures of kindness. "Thanks a lot, you saved me a day's worth of time and a backache," I smiled, scooting over to make some room for Sam.

"No problem, not like we had anything better to do than argue which part of the Lord of the Rings is the best," Wilson rolled his eyes, elbowing Bucky none-too-gently.

Bucky elbowed back, thus starting a horsing war between the two, causing me to scoot closer to Stephen as I attempted to avoid any flailing limbs; the sorcerer and I shared an identical, perplexed sigh as to how two grown men could easily bait each other into such juvenile behaviour.

Whatever. It was kind of endearing.

Steve emerged from the kitchen dusty but smiling, having heard the commotion, and quickly herded his guys into a semblance of decent behaviour before all of three of them left, leaving me and Stephen to go back to my old apartment and give the keys to it to the guard. That was done, too, and a portal from an alley behind my old building straight into my living room had me and Strange awkwardly hovering, saying out goodbyes and waving to each other as the golden circle rapidly shrunk in size and disappeared, golden sparks scattering across my living room carpet for a short second before they fizzled out, too.

I used the brief moment of respite to find the small piece of paper containing the rules Porter had insisted I read and take seriously; figuring it might be a good idea to give them a read before beginning to unpack, I popped open a bottle of soda, holding the itemized list written in neat cursive to my face.

The further I read, the further my eyebrows rose:

"1. Keep your door locked at all times.

2. If a person knocks on your door claiming to be the mail man, do not open the door under any circumstances. You are free to ignore the knocking - it only lasts a minute or so. After the person has left, you may open the door and check for any packages.

3. If Samantha from 3B visits you and asks you to babysit, you may do so at your personal discretion. Her twins are a handful and their daily habits are not for the ones with a weak stomach, however, they mean nothin ill and will not harm you in any way.

4. Do not use the elevator between the hours of 1 and 4 AM.

5. There are no apartments under number "7". If someone claiming to be from those apartments knocks on your door and requests entry, come up with a polite excuse to decline and send me a text message. I will take care of it.

6. There is no garden on the premises of this building. If a man approaches you, claiming to be a gardener, don't interact with him and simply walk away. He will leave you alone.

7. You may meet a girl in a polka-dot dress playing in the hallways or in the stairwell. This is Lucy. Always be polite to Lucy - you won't like what will happen if you're rude to her. She does not talk but she knows limited ASL and may request to visit you. Allow her in ONLY if you have fresh meat in your fridge (beef or mutton, preferably bloody). You might want to avoid seeing her eat, however, it might be very beneficial to make friends with Lucy. She knows a lot of things.

8. If, when taking the stairs, you encounter inconsistent numeration of the floors, such as floor 2 followed by floor 5 and etc, simply walk a flight back. It will sort itself out. The building is old and sometimes it gets confused.

Important notice: these rules apply to your guests as well. Please make sure to introduce and educate them on these matters. We will help as much as we can should a situation arise but ultimately, there are fates far worse than an untimely, however swift, death.

- Porter and Lance."

A slow, creeping dread began to gnaw at my nape, curling on like a cold snake deep in chest. As if laughing at me, the warm, welcoming embrace of the green walls and the toothy, wide smiles my landlords had given me encouraged my recently found sense of adventure, all of it mixing into a cacophony of exhilaration and unease, equally steadily driving my running brain insane.

I sighed again, immediately going to the box containing my altar and the rest of the protective items. So much for peace.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

#practical alchemy #bun writes #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #ironstrange x reader #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x y/n #tony stark x y/n #Stephen Strange x you #tony stark x you

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kerie-prince · 4 years ago

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the memory of you pt. 1

Gilderoy Lockhart x Healer!reader

requested: (anon) Omg thank you! If you want to write any kind of Lockhart scenario that suggests NSFW stuff then I'd totally be cool with whatever you come up with 😊 thanks again so much! ❤️

warnings: none

summary: After helping Gilderoy deal with his memory loss and get him out of St. Mungo's, you couldn't help but fall for his charm once more when he finds you on the streets of London.

a/n: I THOUGHT I QUEUED THIS 💀 i sat here at work thinking 'damn, no one liked my post? k 😭' anyways, i'm gonna break this into two parts before it gets too long lmao. bold italics are flashbacks

(gif not mine, cred to owner)

You worked with a certain celebrity for quite a while now. He was brought in one day without knowing who he was, where he came from, and how he ended up in a weird cave. His residence at St. Mungo’s where you worked lasted for a while. Other Healers declared that there was no way to recover his memory, but he didn’t seem to mind. Gilderoy was perfectly content with being happy and healthy even if he didn't know what was going on.

He was so sweet. Never gave you or any of your colleagues any trouble. He took his potions with ease, didn't make a fuss when bringing him from one room to another, and held conversations as normal. His family would visit him on occasion and it pained you to watch him not know them. But overall, he was happy.

After two years at St. Mungos, Gilderoy was let go considering that even though his memories were gone, he had enough mental stability to be out in public. Gilderoy had to go to a private academy to re-learn magic basics in adult classes. You remember the night before he left.

“So nice to start my life tomorrow,” Gilderoy had his signature smile on. He ate his dinner on his own without the help of Healers.

“Your life has already started, you just don't remember is all,” you corrected. You were preparing his bed for the last time. Since it's his last night, you were able to grab an extra pillow for him to be comfortable.

“Yes, but tomorrow I'll start a life I can remember. I'll make new memories.” Gilderoy stood up from his small table and walk to his hospital bed. He always loved the way you prepared his bed. How you fluffed the pillow, folded the blankets back neatly, and made sure the bed was warm. It wasn't special treatment as you did it for all patients, but he appreciated it all the same.

“Good night, Miss Y/L/N,” he said.

“Good night, Mr. Lockhart,” you replied.

Two years later, you're still working at St. Mungos. You've seen patients come and go since then. None quite as cooperative as Gilderoy, but they weren't all bad either.

The London streets were busy as usual today. It was slightly cloudy, but luckily it wasn't raining. And thank Merlin because you didn't have an umbrella with you. Cabs were driving right past you as you stood by the sidewalk trying to catch one. Once one stopped in front of you and you were about to climb in, another hand also grabbed for the handle. “Miss Y/L/N?”

Gilderoy stood next to you, eyes gleaming and wore his charming smile. He looked as happy as he always did. “Mr. Lockhart, hello.” It was a pleasant run in, and you'd love to chat but you had to be at work soon. It seemed that he noticed your uniform as well. “Oh, go ahead. I'll call for another one.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lockhart.” You opened the door but before you could close it, Gilderoy said one last thing. “I hope to see you again!” He waved at you as you left and kept at it until you were out of sight.

His wish was granted three months later; he was walking around the same street for probably the 4th time that week. He wasn't ashamed to admit that after that day he ran into you, he wanted to see you again. You were with a couple of friends at a pub one night celebrating a proper weekend off. Gilderoy followed you in, a bit of people that recognized him stopped him to say ‘hi’ but of course, he doesn't know them. They were fans of his before the memory loss. They took a few pictures and he went walking after you. You were seen sitting at a bar table by yourself waiting for your friends to come back from the restroom.

Gilderoy walked up to you slowly, “Hello, Miss Y/L/N.” You recognized him and by pure habit, you gave him your work smile and voice, “Good evening, Mr. Lockhart.”

“Please, call me Gilderoy,” he requested.

“Gilderoy,” you reached your hand out to shake his, “you can call me Y/N.” His smile changed, not one that you've seen in magazines and papers, but a more humble one. His cheeks became a bit rosy and he looked like he was flustered. “So, how have you been?” he asked. You took a quick sip of the water that was on the table before continuing the conversation, “I’ve been good! Just been working all the time. How about you? I bet so many great things have been going with you?”

“Not really. Since I didn't know much about my life before I was admitted in, I didn't know where to start. So I lived with my mother for a while, but now I’m on my own.” Seeing Gilderoy be so humble was a sight to see. A once self-centered, proud man has turned into a sweet, kind one. You almost wanted to thank whoever did this to him, not knowing it was actually Gilderoy who had accidentally done this to myself. “Well, are you working right now?” you asked him.

“No, I don’t really have anything to offer,” he looked down.

“That’s not true, you…” you stopped to think about what it was that Gilderoy could do. And unfortunately, it wasn't much. When word had gone out that he had actually stolen credit for all the things he had claimed to have done, people wondered if he was good at anything.

Gilderoy laughed at your blank expression. You felt bad. “Well, I’m sure you’re good at something.” You patted his shoulder gently across the table. Your friends came back from the restroom after what felt like twenty minutes. “Oh! It’s Gilderoy Lockhart, so nice to meet you,” each of them shook his hand. “What brings you here?”

Suddenly, he was embarrassed to say that he was spending weeks trying to find you. “Oh, I was just around. I walked inside and recognized Y/N. Thought I’d say hello,” he felt a bit nervous at that moment. “Well I best be going. I don't want to intrude. Have a good evening.” Gilderoy was about to leave until one of your friends called out for him, “No, stay! I’m sure Y/N would love to catch up with you, isn't that right?” You weren't sure if it would be appropriate to hang out with a former patient. Sure, it’s been a couple years since then, but you've never had any patients become even acquaintances, let alone friends. But the look in Gilderoy’s eyes that were basically begging you to say ‘yes’ hit something in you. “If you’re not doing anything else tonight, I'm sure we would like your company tonight.”

Gilderoy was funnier than he seemed to be. Being one of the Healers that worked with him for nearly four years, you never knew about this. He was telling the story of the first time he had used the levitation spell during his adult classes and he accidentally made his professor levitate and not the inanimate object on the table. Slightly tipsy, you and your friends laughed so hard trying to picture the situation. Gilderoy said he panicked and when he tried to let him down, the professor fell from ten feet in the air on his head and passed out. Luckily, he wasn't kicked out to the class but it was certainly something the professor never let him live down.

By the end of the night, your friends had gotten plastered and left for home. You were fine; your tipsy state was gone. You made sure your friends were set in the cab and told the cabbie their addresses. Gilderoy stood behind you and watched as you took care of your friends. It was different than when you worked, but it brought back memories when you took care of him.

When the cab drove off, you turned to look at the blond man. “Well, it was great seeing you, Mr. Lock– Gilderoy,” you quickly corrected yourself. You nodded and started walking down the street before he called for you again. “W-would you like to take a walk?” You thought about it, the same thought from earlier. But you've already shared a few drinks with him, so a walk wouldn't hurt. The sky was clear and although the stars were faint, there were a couple large ones that you could point out. You walked in silence for a couple minutes until you spoke up, “The weather’s nice.” He nodded quietly. It wasn't odd for him, but it was for you. It was odd to see him not as talkative as he used to be. You supposed that when you have your memories wiped, your personality could be affected as well. But he was still somewhat himself when he was a patient, so this change must have happened in the past two years. You hoped that nothing bad happened in that time.

It was getting later and later, but something about Gilderoy was different and you liked being around this sort of new him. He’s more inviting compared to how he was when he was a celebrity. The feeling of it being weird with him outside of work was gone, and something else started. You wanted to get to know him as a person again.

You checked the time on your wristwatch and decided that you should head home eventually. “It was nice seeing you tonight. I hope to see you again,” you grinned. His eyes lit up as he looked at you, “I would love that. Maybe we can have tea sometime?”

“I’d like that. Goodnight, Gilderoy.”

“Good night, Y/N.” He signaled a cab for you and like he did the last time, he waved until he couldn't see you anymore.

—

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