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#and it's not even just the absence of a recipe
aleki-lives-here · 4 months
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I am entirely convinced that most of my cooking hinges on the right order of panicked prayers to all the gods and fictional characters I can think of.
I am sure that the only reason this recipe worked was that I started it with praying to Xie Lian, then stopped and in a fit of panic tried to find anyone else to pray to because what the fuck is this it looks completely inedible there needs to be some huge divine intervention for this to work at all oh gods someone please this needs to be saved oh gods oh gods oh gods. and then back to praying to Xie Lian because there is no hope in this world but he may at least save me from dying of food poisoning. that's all i ask from a meal, after all, to not kill me with food poisoning. please let it not kill me with food poisoning i swear there'll be no weird experiments for a day after that i swear i'll stick to normal recipes for the time being please spare me.
And then it turned out to be the tastiest way to fry eggs I've ever tried! Like genuinely great food! Even if it looked like somebody had already tried to eat it and threw it back up. And I am completely alive and well and want more of it!
It's the prayers. It's definitely the prayers and the panic and some higher being taking pity on me. That's the only logical explanation for my cooking process that I will accept.
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i have this fic in my brain with like. two parts. possibly three. and that's 1) ted teaches trent, of all people, how to make his famous biscuits. this implies a few things:
a) trent is now the biscuit successor. ted's always handing out biscuits. trent finds himself doing the same thing. (this would be the hypothetical third part, if you'll forgive my nonlinearity--trent, and the community, and biscuits.)
b) i like to think trent would enjoy making it bc Autism. idk about yall but i love following a list of precise instructions with little treats along the way with the end result of a thing i can not only hold in my hands but eat??? anyway trent gaining a new hobby for his spare time (that his daughter LOVES to "assist" with lol) and maybe he even starts experimenting himself--the biscuits are never going to be exactly like ted's, but they have something special of their own, too. (and it's still made with love :))
c) ted and trent baking together and the cute (but ultimately bittersweet) shenanigans that ensue.
2) rebecca is missing biscuits with the boss and girl talk, now that ted's gone, when trent hesitantly ducks in with a pink box.
3) again, as beforementioned, trent inadvertently getting roped into making these regularly. first it's one off thing--cheering colin up or it's mentioned that he used to make them for someone ELSE'S kid's birthday and trent knows from experience that's not to be missed, and then it's just. becoming a thing. he is regularly making biscuits now. he is ted's biscuit man successor.
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secretlovezz · 3 months
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Whiplash
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Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
Summary: you've been avoiding Eddie like the plague and he's desperate to figure out what he's done to deserve it.
Warnings: hurt/comfort?? idk, kissing, fluffy ending, pining, idiots in love, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader is a crybaby ig idk she reacted how I would soooo, lmk if i missed anything!
Wordcount: 2010
A/N: Not really proofread and kind of written in a rush cause I wasn't feeling it about halfway through so sorry if you can tell 😞
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You weren't there... again.
Your absence from your usual seat to the left of Eddie leaves him in a deep state of confusion his eyebrows furrowing in thought. This was the fifth day without your presence at his side, almost an entire week without your voice giddily telling him about the book you were reading or a new recipe you've tried, almost an entire week of being deprived of that perfect little gleam in your eyes when you looked at him rambling about something you enjoyed, and his heart ached in deprivation.
And because of this, he could with full confidence say you were avoiding him- but as to why he had no idea.
Eddie's silent at the lunch table staring at nothing in particular, and though the guys -especially the freshman- had finally learned to normalize Eddie's peculiar-ness and oddities this new silence and bleak aura had them surprised. He was stuck in his head racking through everything that's happened in the last week that could have possibly scared you away from him.
He thinks about the time he asked you for help with his math homework, but that couldn't be it considering that definitely was not the first time he'd asked and definitely was not the first time you'd happily agreed to do so. He reminisces about when he'd come to visit you during your shift at the local library in boredom playfully bothering you as you re-placed books onto the shelf.
He thinks and thinks and thinks but nothing comes to mind for your sudden evasion.
"Dude, you think any harder and steam will come out of your ears," Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie, "What the hell's wrong with you anyway?"
Eddie leans back in his chair and dramatically throws his head back to look at the ceiling, his hair flows behind him and moves as people walk by, "She's avoiding me."
Dustin's head snaps up, still chewing his food he inserts himself into the conversation, "Who? Y/N? I just talked to her last period, she seemed fine," He shrugged.
At that Eddies head pops back up, eyes locking with Dustin's in a way that leaves the younger boy cringing, and the crease between his brows intensifies, "So she's still talking to you guys but not me?" He starts to pout a little by the end of his question.
Everyone sends looks to each other before slowly nodding and Eddie's forehead loudly makes contact with the cafeteria table, the guys wince in response.
"Well... have you tried- I don't know, asking her about it?"
The glare sent in Mikes direction after his question almost makes him apologize. Eddie heatedly scratches his head and groans in irritation; he'd tried more than a handful of times to get ahold of you, tried more than enough times to just hear your voice again but nothing worked. When he waited by your locker you would walk the other way, when he called you, you hung up as soon as you heard his voice, and worst of all you would throw out the little notes he sent you in class as you walked out and away from him once again.
"Duh! Of course I have," Eddies reply is laced with annoyance and frustration, "But I can't ask her anything if she keeps running away- I mean come on! She won't even look at me, man." His voice is soft and emotional when speaking his last sentence, He runs his hand over his face weakly and suddenly he feels like he's being pitied. He doesn't want that.
He hastily moves to pick up his things, thrusting the items into his little lunch box with more force than necessary with a pout on his tired face before standing from his seat and angrily walking away across the cafeteria, from the table and the others. They all sigh when he makes it past the cafeteria doors and after a silent moment Jeff is the first who speaks up, "So- When do you guys think they'll get over themselves and finally get together?"
《----------♡
When the last bell rings after what feels like years to Eddie he's swiftly making his way out of class and out of the building, but now what time would usually be spent merrily walking to his car and making plans to see you during the weekend was spent instead making his way into the woods strolling past trees and going to the little picnic table placed in that clearing he visits every once in awhile.
He stares at the ground and his feet as he treads, kicking rocks, stones, and branches on the way.
Eddies just about there just a few trees away from the clearing before he hears footsteps other than his own a little ways ahead of him he pauses head finally lifting to look in front of him and waits to see who appears.
To his surprise you pop into his vision and his round, brown eyes widen. He goes to take a step forward his body automatically and urgently trying to get to you, desperately needing to be near the drug that is you, but he stops himself to observe.
You sit at the table and pull a book out from the satchel bag at your side and a humorous huff leaves through his nose, his face relaxing and lips curling up at the sight of you doing something you often enthusiastically spoke to him about before realizing that its a book he does not recognize, that you had started a new one, and you hadn't told him like you usually would have. The thought wipes the smile from his face in an instant and his brows furrow for the nth time that day.
He steps forward and does not stop himself this time, sauntering toward you almost as angrily has he had left the cafeteria without your knowledge as you are already too engrossed in whatever new story you were traveling into. When he sits across from you at the table you feel it shift with the added weight and at last realize that you are no longer alone.
When you eventually look up, placing your thumb in-between the pages you were reading to keep your place, your heart drops at the sight of the frustrated man in front of you. You try to move away but he quickly grabs your wrist urging you to sit back down, you look at him again and the anguish written on his face makes you find your seat.
Your gaze moves to your lap and Eddie doesn't let you go too afraid you run away again.
Eddie is the one to break the stifling silence, "Talk to me... please?" The sound of his voice makes your heart ache so guiltily it hurts, "Just- Just tell what I did wrong- tell me so I can fix it."
Though your mouth opens to respond nothing comes out and your eyes gloss over with salty tears. Eddie's hold on your wrist moves to your hand gently cupping it in his calloused palm while his thumb moves to continuously swipe over your warm skin.
Your cheeks warm at the intimate contact and it only makes your eyes well with my tears reminding you of why you were ignoring him in the first place.
"When you-," You struggle to get the words out of your closing throat but Eddie still listens patiently, "Last time... you- you did something. It wasn't a big deal to you- but um... to me it- it meant a lot and that's kind of the problem."
The brunette across from you leans in closer and tilts his head in confusion, "What did I do?"
You glance to the side in embarrassment but Eddie's thumb taps you twice to bring your attention back to the conversation, "Talk to me Princess; Tell me what I did so we can go back to normal, I miss my best friend."
You didn't want to go back to normal.
For the first time in days your eyes connect with Eddie's and you take in a shaky breath at the sight of his enchanting eyes. "You uh- you kissed me..."
Now he's confused. He had kissed you? When? He's sure he would remember finally getting to kiss you.
Your free hand travels to your cheek and it all clicks for him, the pieces falling into place. He can't help but let out a chuckle of amusement; you were right- he had kissed you, kissed you on your cheek, that is, a sweet little peck against your skin. His laughter dies out when you rip your hand from his, the tears in your eyes spilling over.
Eddie stands and rounds the table to you, "Hey hey I- I'm I shouldn't have laughed. Don't cry, sweetheart." His hands place themselves on your elbows as your hands move to cover your face. He starts to feel like that little kiss really did more than he had thought.
"Did it make you uncomfortable? I won't do it again I promise," You shake your head at his words, "Talk to me, baby."
"Don't do that! Don't call me those names if you don't mean it," Eddies eyes go wide at your outburst and his mouth opens to speak but you beat him to it, "you- you kiss me and call me those names and I- It's just too much... I like you too much."
All too quickly Eddie is forcefully removing your hands from your face and cupping your cheeks thumbing the tears from your skin, "I like you too much too."
"Don't be mean Eddie."
He connects his forehand to yours, both of your eyes closing at the closeness, "M'not, would never joke about that." His soft pink lips brush gently against yours as he speaks and your breath hitches. Your lips part slightly and your cold breath fans Eddie's face. "How can I show you I mean it hm? How 'bout... a real kiss?" He mutters. You nod all too briskly for someone who was just crying and it makes Eddie smile.
In the fullness of time Eddie presses his lips to yours and when he finally gets the taste of your lips on his he realizes he's waited entirely too long to do this despite being willing to wait an eternity for you. He's been starving for the absolute goddess that is you, now getting to satisfy that hunger digging in with no resistance and sliding his tongue past your lips flushed against him. The ache he had felt without you there fading once and for all as you kissed him back. Your hands atop his squeeze as a noise escapes the back of your throat and Eddie kisses you deeper at your audible reaction. He wants to consume you, wants to keep you so close you never leave his side, he needs it- needs you and makes sure it shows in the way he kisses you.
When he pulls away your both panting for air, Eddie's grin is smug on the top of your head and your arms are wrapped around him.
"I can't believe you made me feel like shit for an entire week just cause I gave you a lil' kiss on the cheek," Eddie mocked trying to get a quick quip in.
"Shut up! It totally freaked me out."
His loud cackle echoed in your ears and you smiled, pulling him closer and pressing your nose into his skin. Eddie's arms moved to wrap around you as well and his large hands snake around you also trying to squeeze you impossibly closer. He presses a fast peck on your cheek, then your temple, and then the top of your head. Eddie takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of you- memorizing it.
"Promise you won't do that to me again. Don't leave me alone like that again."
"I won't Eds, I promise."
"Besides! What are you going to do without me here being oh so entertaining huh?"
You laugh, "I have no idea."
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dearaceofhearts · 5 months
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you walk out after an argument
characters: husk, alastor, angel dust, vox, lucifer word count: 2.9k genre: angst to fluff summary: after an argument with them, you walk out and don't come back for a few days. how do they react? author's note: hello yes this is my first time actually posting something. erm, i think i wrote too much (sorry) but hey we roll with it!! also dude i accidentally posted this before it was ready twice and i had a heart attack oh my god. anyways i don't think vox's is really fluff (oops) but everyone else's is
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♡ husk
when you slam the door shut on your way out, husk lets out a low grumble, setting down the glass he was cleaning onto the bar counter with a quiet sigh. it was one of the first arguments you'd had in a long time. although he wasn't usually one to get riled up so easily, the two of you knew each other well enough to know just what buttons to push to get under the other's skin. that, alongside him already having a bad day, had been a recipe for disaster.
in the few days that pass by, it's hard to tell just how affected he is by your absence since he does a pretty good job of keeping a cool facade. to anyone looking, he wouldn't appear any different than usual, just idly cleaning bottles as he always does.
but it's the small things that give away just how much husk cares and worries for you, like how his eyes flicker towards the door whenever someone comes in, his ears perking up slightly. he hates the twinge of disappointment that follows when it's not you, a slight scowl curling at his lips as he takes a swig of alcohol from one of the many bottles on the shelves of the bar. he misses talking to you. you're his favourite drinking buddy, after all.
his gaze always seems to wander back to the front door of the hotel, lingering for just a little too long before he eventually turns back to the bar, expression settling back into its usual grouchiness. but underneath that lies a hint of worry that gnaws at him in the back of his mind, even though he knows you're more than capable of handling yourself. at the end of the day, you can never be too careful in hell.
husk won't force you to come back, but he just wants to know that you're safe and sound. he trusts that you'll come back when you're ready so that the two of you can talk it over and hopefully resolve things. he doesn't want to leave it like this, and he's sure you don't either. you mean a lot more to him than he'd like to admit.
when you decide to finally return to the hotel, he pauses upon catching sight of you stepping through the doorway. he can't help the small wave of relief that washes over him, though you wouldn't be able to tell by the way he smoothly resumes restocking the bar. when you approach the counter, he looks up, giving you a short nod. "hey." he greets you, tone surprisingly softer than you're used to, "you're back."
husk's not really the type to beat around the bush, so he'd likely address the argument pretty quickly. he's also not particularly one for verbal apologies, so he'd probably be more willing to show it through his actions. you see it in the way he lets you cling to him a little longer than he normally does, leaning into him as he wordlessly holds you, his tail loosely curling around your leg. if you listen closely, you can hear some faint purring, too. it makes you smile slightly.
"alright, 'nuff of this sappy stuff." husk grumbles after a few more moments, patting your back gently before pulling back. "i'd kill for a drink right now. care to join me?" he raises a brow, a familiar glint in his eyes as he slides back behind the counter, already moving to make what he knows is your favourite drink.
you grin as you meet his eyes, expression softening. "of course. i'd love nothing more."
♡ alastor
"you're not listening, al." you murmur, exhaling quietly. this makes him pause for a moment, head tilted. your voice sounds different to what he's used to — you're not even angry, no — you just sound... tired. the argument had been going on for a while, and neither of you were getting through to the other.
when you move to leave, he makes no move to stop you, simply watching you with an intent gaze. his voice rings out clear as day in the empty silence. "where do you think you're going, my dear?"
he falters ever so slightly when you turn back to face him with a sturdy, stern gaze, responding with a flatly spoken "out", leaving no room for anything more to be said before closing the door behind you with a quiet click.
alastor won't chase after you, because he expects that you'll come back to him of your own accord. to him, it's basically guaranteed how this'll play out. he's used to demons falling right into his hands without having to exert much effort on his end, and believes that this would be no different.
so when a few days pass by with you not approaching him at all, he finds himself slightly irritated and mildly perplexed, eyes narrowed as his clawed finger taps against his cane with idle impatience. why haven't you sought him out yet?
he's seen you around the hotel, but you've never once acknowledged his presence even if the two of you were in the same room, breezing past him while he's left staring, watching you converse with everyone except him. his eye twitches in irritation, the perpetual smile on his lips strained.
...eventually, after playing a long waiting game to no avail, he decides that perhaps rosie would be able to offer some helpful advice on how to approach this situation, since he's not used to actually handling delicate emotional matters without the— well, the manipulation and deal-making.
one of the main issues is his massive ego. it's that unfaltering pride that gets in the way of him apologising. he may be the radio demon, but all that power can't help him here. and he'd never openly admit to such, but he truly is at somewhat of a loss here. he's already tried most things that he's sure would usually make you forgive him, though for a reason unbeknownst to him, it's not working this time.
"oh alastor," rosie shakes her head with a small huff, "a lady's heart is to be treated with care." she lends some further words of wisdom and encouragement that he listens to with great attentiveness, since he does (begrudgingly) enjoy your company, and it would be a shame if it was lost over such a, in his eyes, trivial matter.
upon his return to the hotel, he manages to get you to sit down with him (after much polite pestering and insistence) to have a chat over some tea. when all is said and done, the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. you sip your tea, watching the blazing fires of hell from the balcony.
"refill?" alastor offers, glancing at you briefly through a sip of his own tea.
"much appreciated." you hum, legs crossed as you throw him a small, slack smile.
♡ angel dust
his frustration slowly fizzles out as the door closes behind you, and the guilt slowly starts to creep in. he knows he shouldn't have said what he did, and he wants nothing more than to apologise and make it up to you — but he understands that it's probably better to give you some time to cool off before trying to approach you again.
despite the argument and the harsh words exchanged between you, the fact that he cares for you with his whole heart will never change, and he hopes you know that too.
while you're away, angel always finds his thoughts drifting to you, wondering how you're doing. are you eating okay? are you drinking enough? sleeping enough? with a shake of his head and a small sigh, he tries his best to return his focus back to the task at hand, whatever it may be.
he knows you can take care of yourself perfectly fine, but he just... misses you. the guilt eats away at him when he's reminded of the look on your face when you left, the brief glimmer of hurt in your eyes before you masked it with anger and tore your gaze away.
one particular night, angel heads over to your room in the hotel out of habit, not really thinking about it when he raises a fist to knock on the door. he had been hoping to spend some time with you, since today had been a particularly rough day for him. he's also been craving for one of your sleepover nights for a while, those nights where you two would stay up to talk about anything and everything until dawn rises. those times were comforting for him — a rare moment of respite in his life.
but then he stops abruptly, remembering that you're not there. he lets his hand fall back to his side, expression quietly downcast. he stands alone in the silent, empty hallway. has it always been this cold?
after a few days, he's just about damn ready to go looking for you, making his way down the stairs as he prepares to head out. he's so focused that he almost misses the sight of you seemingly casually sitting at the bar, nursing a drink in your hands whilst exchanging low murmurs with husk.
he freezes momentarily, taking a deep breath. while he mentally debates with himself whether to approach you or not, husk notices him hesitating on the staircase. he catches angel's gaze, giving him a subtle nod. that's all the affirmation angel needs.
he slides on his usual relaxed demeanour, though it's a little weaker than normal, as he approaches you. he's admittedly a little nervous, but he's determined to work things out with you. he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "hey, darlin'. can i talk to you for a minute?"
the two of you head back to your room, where heartfelt apologies are exchanged and a long overdue conversation takes place. at some point during the talk, his hand had found its way on top of yours, thumb brushing over your skin gently. at the end of it all, he gives you a small, content smile. "...baby, you have no idea just how much i adore you." he whispers into the quiet, running his fingers through your hair comfortingly as your head rests on his shoulder.
it was an unspoken agreement that tonight was going to be a sleepover night. prepare for lots of cuddling and gentle, soft kisses.
♡ vox
he's the type to go "ha, see if i care!" when you leave, but he'll still check on you occasionally through the various cameras and electronics around the city — he swears it's just because he's making sure the new limited edition voxtek product he had given to you isn't damaged.
(...it's totally because he's looking out for you, by the way. even if it's only a little. you are his darling, after all. and uh, you'll never know what happened to that guy who tried to hit on you that one time).
(vox made sure not even a trace of that bastard remained).
his obnoxious pride makes him reluctant to reach out first. that, and he's a petty little shit. so everyone around him, whether that be the other vees or his employees, is stuck dealing with his foul mood. he's become even more irritable and susceptible to lashing out than usual since you left.
he'd rather die than admit it, but you were a calming presence in his life that he hadn't realised he needed until you were gone. he hates just how much power you have over him, though you may or may not realise it. he's supposed to be the one in charge. when did you manage to sneak into his heart? his mind is occupied with thoughts of you.
and it only frustrates him more, because you're not here.
all his employees are left on edge, even more so when he takes his anger out on some poor soul who had gotten the numbers wrong on the report they handed in. "clean this mess up." vox snaps, glowering as he fixes the cuffs of his sleeves. the demon at the door hurriedly moves to do as he says, not wanting to risk meeting the same fate.
"what? what are you looking at?" he turns, eyes narrowing at the rest of the employees who flinch, hastily turning their eyes back to the screens in front of them. "get back to work." he mutters sharply, an unspoken threat in his words.
his volatile temperament goes on for a while, until velvette decides she's finally had enough and sends you a (not so) polite text to resolve your little lover's spat before she takes matters into her own hands.
meanwhile, vox is in his office. nothing seems to be going his way, and he's just about to blow another fuse when you nonchalantly throw open the doors, inviting yourself in. he freezes, staring at you for a few moments. you raise a brow. "...so. i heard you were throwing another hissy fit."
vox scowls at that, grumbling under his breath. "oh yeah? and what'd you come back for, you prissy little princess?" he sneers, clawed fingers digging into the desk with a quiet screech. "couldn't go without me for long, huh?"
"ha. you wish that was the case." you scoff, rolling your eyes with a half-amused, irked smile curling at your lips. things escalate into another argument pretty quickly, with the two of you at each other's throats. he towers over you, eyes narrowing as his grin widens in mild irritation.
it's a back and forth for quite some time, until you get sick of it and grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer until you're glaring at one another face to face. "what the fuck do you think you're—" he starts, but he's quickly cut off when your lips crash into his. vox is stunned for a few moments but soon snaps out of it, swiftly returning your kiss with equal, if not more, ferocity and intensity.
"finally got you to shut up." you murmur, grinning as you part to catch your breath and release his shirt from your grasp. before you can pull back completely, however, his hand reaches up to rest against the back of your neck, the other firmly on your waist. it takes another long, drawn-out kiss for him to finally let you go — though not really, since he's still holding you close in his arms.
"...that was hot." he whispers breathlessly, staring down at you with a somewhat satisfied glint in his eyes. but you both know that there's more to come.
suffice to say, the two of you sorted things out.
♡ lucifer
he would regret everything almost instantly. lucifer realises just how badly he fucked up when you leave without looking back. he's not even quite sure what happened as he stands alone in the room, blinking as he's left to process everything on his own. his mind is a jumbled mess, and he can't think clearly.
all he can feel is a suffocating rush of fear as he snaps out of his daze and hurries after you, desperate to find you before you're gone. he doesn't want to take his chances. what if you don't come back? what if—
he had said things that he didn't mean, and now the weight of it all feels crushing on his shoulders. he's torn between wanting to reach out to apologise and giving you time to cool down. he doesn't want to be a bother, but also really wants to make things up to you.
most of all, he just wants reassurance that you'll come back to him and that he hasn't messed things up for good. he doesn't want to lose you. you're too precious to him for that, and he's mentally kicking himself for ever making you question your importance to him for even a second.
thankfully, you haven't gone too far so he's able to catch up to you, taking a hold of your wrist firmly. however, when you turn to look at him, he falters, the words dying in his throat. he swallows, softly clearing his throat as he scrambles to say something, anything to stop you from leaving. to reaffirm his love for you.
"...sweetheart, i'm so sorry," he whispers, expression twisted and heart heavy with remorse and sorrow as he brings you close, grip subconsciously tightening because he's afraid to let you go. "i'll do anything, i'll make it up to you, i—" he trails off, burying his face into your shoulder, "just, please... don't leave. i'm sorry."
you really can't stay mad at him for too long after seeing his genuine sincerity. he acknowledges his wrongs, wanting nothing more than to make up for his mistakes and make you feel as appreciated and cared for as you've made him feel over the course of you two knowing each other. you sigh gently, thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. "...alright, silly. let's go home."
his eyes light up at that, and he's reminded of just how grateful he is to have you here by his side as you guys make your way home together. he holds your hand the entire time.
after the two of you make up, you find that he'll leave little gifts and cute trinkets around for you despite your gentle assurances that he doesn't have to. he also gives you lots of forehead kisses. he just wants to make sure you never forget how much he loves you, and that you mean the world to him.
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© dearaceofhearts ー all rights reserved. please do not steal, use or modify my works!
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harryslittlefreakk · 6 days
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kiss it better
summary: when y/n doesn’t show up to work, harry takes her care into his own hands. ceorry x PA y/n
warnings: mentions of illness and vomiting! just plain fluff other than that
wordcount: a little over 2k
a/n: in honour of me being gravely ill 😀 this is probably not very good lol whatevs!!!! i wanted to write and fluff was calling my name
masterlist
Harry glanced at his watch, frowning as he realised something was off. You were always punctual, always greeting him with a smile and a steaming cup of coffee before he even stepped into his office. But there was no sign of you. His desk was a little too tidy in the absence of your swirling handwriting on sticky notes and files. It smelled musky without the sweet coconut of your perfume to counter the dominance of his aftershave.
He set his briefcase down, pulling out his phone to dial your number. He knew he shouldn’t call you, that whatever kept you from work was obviously important, but he needed to know. The phone rang into Harry’s ear a few times before going to voicemail, his brows knitting as he left his office in search of an explanation for your absence.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out, an email pinging through to his phone almost as soon as he opened his mouth to ask where you were.
Without thinking twice, Harry grabbed his coat and headed for the door, his heart thudding with concern, for reasons that he couldn’t quite place. You never missed work. You were always so reliable, pushing yourself even when you shouldn’t, even when Harry told you not to. If he was in the office, you were too, always leaving later than him and getting in earlier.
He stopped by a small deli as he left the office, ringing his mum in the middle of the fresh produce aisle to get her family-favourite soup recipe. Some fresh bread, vegetables, milk and teabags, medicines and ginger shots.
Harry was carried by some sort of unseen force, a desire to be the hero for a day. It wasn’t until he reached your building’s main entrance that he thought to question what he was doing.
He hadn’t even told anyone he was leaving - his briefcase was still sat on his chair, his work untouched. He was skipping on his own company to show up at your door laden with supplies like he was close enough to you to be your caretaker. He shook his head gently, his out-stretched finger reaching for your buzzer before he even made his mind up on whether to stay or go.
He was at your front door a few minutes later, the groceries hanging limply in his hand as he took in your appearance, his features softening as his eyes trailed over your face. Your usually bright skin was dull and pale, your brown eyes outlined by reds and purples, the tip of your nose tinted pink, your lips dry and cracked.
“Harry? What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice thick and hoarse.
You pulled your cardigan tighter around your waist, wishing the building would just collapse around you, a stray meteor would strike you down, anything to not be standing in front of your boss in your skimpy pyjamas while he looked at you like you were a wounded puppy.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
You shrugged, stepping back into your door as Harry moved towards you. “I didn’t want to bother you. It’s just a cold.”
“Bother me?” He shook his head, stepping around you and pulling the door closed behind him. “You’re never a bother, y/n. I was worried.”
Before you could protest, he was already moving into your small kitchen, setting the groceries on the counter. “I bought supplies. Have you had any medicine? You go sit down and I’ll bring you some over. Tea, coffee, water?”
You looked around in a daze, your gaze flitting between the front door and Harry as your brain struggled to catch up. Medicine, supplies, tea, sick, worried. His words were buzzing around your clouded mind, your brows knitted as you stepped towards him.
“Harry, you don’t have to-” you started, but he shot you a pointed look over his shoulder. You knew that face all too well. It was the ‘I’m in charge here, and we both know it’ look that you’d seen him giving to clients and staff countless times over the past year, usually followed by a smirk in your direction.
“Sit. That’s an order,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I’ll take care of everything.”
You sighed but obeyed, shuffling over to the sofa and sinking into the cushions. You knew better than to argue, especially with the way your body was aching after only walking to the door and back.
“I’ve had medicine already,” you told Harry, nodding your head towards the packet on the coffee table. He padded over, reaching for the pills with a satisfied smile.
“Good girl. Where are your mugs?”
Good girl. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheek, knowing instantly that you were burning up and it had nothing to do with the flu.
“Top cupboard on the left,” you muttered, your voice tiny as Harry stared down at you.
You’d found yourself in a dangerous game. It was hard enough to control yourself around Harry in the office with your wits about you, but with him in your home, apparently intent on taking care of you, calling you a good girl, you were almost ready to plan the wedding.
“Oh no.”
A sudden wave of nausea washed over you, your eyes glued to the floor as you scrambled to your feet, rushing past Harry as if he wouldn’t notice if you went fast enough. You barely made it to the toilet before the nausea overwhelmed you, your body heaving.
Within seconds, Harry was behind you. He knelt down, one hand gently pulling your hair back from your face while the other rubbed over your shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he murmured softly.
Now you really wished someone would smite you down. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, both from the force of being sick and the embarrassment of having Harry see you like this. You tried to apologise, but another wave hit, cutting you off.
“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, his hand never stopping its gentle motion on your back.
You slumped back against the wall, exhausted. Harry stood up to wet your flannel, crouching in front of you to dab at your forehead and cheeks, his touch tender and careful, as if you might break.
The ridiculousness of it all almost made you laugh. There he was, in his thousand pound suit, his curls perfectly styled, wiping the sick from your face as you poured like a child in your Barbie pyjamas. And it was only 11am. There was plenty of time for things to get even worse for you.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and weak. “That was mortifying.”
“Hey, none of that,” Harry said firmly, but his eyes were soft as he studied your face. “You’ve taken care of every one of my needs for a year. You’re sick, I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled you to your feet, keeping a tight hold of your hand as he guided you back to the sofa, fluffing your cushions before you sank down.
You closed your eyes, your body aching with fatigue and the lingering embarrassment of being so messy and vulnerable in front of your boss.
As if he could read your mind, Harry sat down beside you, his arm wrapping tightly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “I’ve got you,” he murmured again, his voice ghosting over the top of your head. “Just rest. I’m not leaving.”
You let out a shuddering breath, the warmth of his body against yours easing some of the lingering chills. Slowly, the tension began to drain away, the exhaustion tugging at you. You turned slightly, pressing your face into his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.
He shifted, carefully adjusting his position so you could lie more comfortably against him. His fingers stroked through your hair, chills shooting straight down your spine.
“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’m right here.”
When you didn’t respond, Harry stayed still, holding you close, his heart aching at how fragile you suddenly seemed to him. He would keep you safe, he promised to himself.
You were still glued to Harry’s side when you woke, although he’d clearly been busy while you were out cold.
His blazer was slung over a chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up as they always were after a few hours of work. His arm was still tight around you, his free hand dancing across the keyboard of his laptop as he stared and muttered at the screen.
Your lips curled into a little smile with the realisation that he’d been up and about while you slept but had still come back to cuddle you. Your hand instinctively flew to your mouth, covering your smirk before Harry noticed just how happy you were to wake up at his side.
His eyes snapped over to you, his eyes crinkling as his mouth stretched into a grin. “Morning, sunshine,” he teased, setting his laptop to the side.
A gasp fell from your lips as you looked beyond him for the first time since you opened your eyes, realising how little light was left. “It’s nearly dark, Harry. How long was I out?”
“A while,” he shrugged. “It’s a good thing. Your body heals while you sleep.”
You pulled away from him to sit up straight, suddenly conscious of the wet patch on his shirt, his tattoos stark against the translucent fabric. “I kept you hostage here for hours while I drooled all over you.”
“I’ll forward you my dry cleaning bill,” he smirked, peering down at the mark. “I don’t mind, really. I had Tony bring my bits over,” Harry shrugged, nodding towards his laptop. “I got quite a lot done. Maybe we should work from home more often.”
“I won’t be making a habit of chucking my guts up in front of you and drooling all over you,” you whispered, your cheeks blazing hot.
“Glad to hear it, sweetheart. How are you feeling? Do you fancy eating?”
You nodded, running a hand through your wild hair. You didn’t even want to imagine what you looked like. It was becoming increasingly more apparent that you’d have to change your name and flee the country the second Harry left you alone.
But as he padded away from you, you listened to him bustling around your kitchen, the familiar clink of plates and cutlery, it felt all too comforting and all too normal.
Harry came back with a tray, a steaming bowl of soup, some toast, and a cup of tea balanced on top, a tea towel thrown over his arm. He set it down carefully on the coffee table, then sat beside you, watching as you guided a spoonful of soup past your lips.
“This is really good,” you murmured, surprised at how the warmth seemed to spread through you, easing the ache in her throat.
“Glad you like it,” he said, looking pleased. “My mums recipe. I’m half convinced your head could fall off and that soup would manage to cure it.”
You managed to eat most of the soup, under Harry’s watchful gaze. When you finished, he cleaned up quickly, then returned with a fresh cup of tea for you both and a blanket.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” you said softly as he draped the blanket over you.
He gave you a gentle smile, pulling your legs onto his lap. “I wanted to. You take care of me. Let me take care of you for once.”
The energy shifted in the room, the atmosphere clouded with something unspoken. You rubbed a finger over your lips, your gaze lingering on Harry as he traced patterns over your skin.
He glanced over at his laptop, pushing the screen closed. “Alright, I think we’ve earned a movie,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “What’s your favourite?”
You shrugged, turning your attention to the tv. “I always watch Harry Potter when I’m sick.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Barbie pyjamas and Harry Potter. Maybe I don’t know everything about you.”
“Simple pleasures,” you shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
As the movie played, the sky gradually darkened, the light from the screen casting soft shadows across the room. You’d pulled your legs from Harry’s lap at some point, sinking into the sofa beside him as you sipped at your tea. He kept his eyes on you as you put the mug back down, then without a word, he gently wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.
You hesitated for a moment before relaxing against him, your head resting on his shoulder. It felt more natural earlier, when you were still dazed and cloudy and overwhelmed with embarrassment. It still felt right, comforting and familiar, but you were so much more aware of your proximity now. Still, when Harry’s hand began to rub slow, soothing circles on your arm, you melted into him.
You glanced up at him after a minute, catching his profile in the flickering light. His eyes were focused on the screen, but there was a softness to his expression, a tenderness that made your heart flutter.
He must have sensed your gaze, because he looked down at you, his eyes locking with yours. For just a moment, the movie, the room, the soft pounding of your head all faded away.
Harry’s hand stilled on your arm, his fingers lingering as if unsure of what they wanted to do next. Then, slowly, he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your flushed skin.
“Y/n..” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. There was something in his eyes, something vulnerable and almost hesitant, as if he were seeking permission.
Your breath caught, your heart quickening. You pushed your head against his touch, just the slightest movement, your eyes never leaving his.
That was all the encouragement Harry needed. Leaning in slowly, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss so soft and gentle it was almost like the ghost of a breath against your skin. His hand moved to cradle the back of your head, his touch careful, still so gentle as if he was scared he’d break you.
But his kisses were sweet, unhurried, and full of something you couldn’t put into words. He kissed you like he was savouring every moment, like he thought it might be the only time he’d ever feel your lips against his. You felt your whole body surrender to him, enveloped in the warmth and care of his touch.
“You’re going to get sick,” you whispered when he pulled back, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip.
He leaned in again, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, then one to your temple, his arms tightening around you as you buried your head in his chest. “I think I’ve spent enough time in your company to end up catching your germs anyway. At least I got to do that,” Harry murmured, smoothing a hand over your hair.
You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the movie forgotten. The world outside didn’t matter, the weight of how shitty you felt didn’t matter, the impending infection you’d passed to Harry didn’t matter. In the quiet shadows of the evening, you snuggled closer, feeling his heart beat steadily against you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly content.
“Stay with me?” you murmured, her voice barely audible.
“Of course,” he promised, his lips brushing over your hair.
taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever @stylesbrock @harry-nialllover @triski73 @meetmeintheemeraldpool @harryshousewitnessprotection @danaehldy @fairytale07 @storyschanging @wannaliveinparadise @mrs-anna-styles211994 @mema10 @fangirl509east @devilsqueen722
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girlkisser13 · 2 months
Text
being married to bruce wayne would include
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• galas, charities, balls, etc. become more a part of your life than you probably ever wanted them to be.
• once you two officially become a couple, you become gotham’s "it" couple. whether you want to or not.
• in the press, the two of you are often depicted as gotham royalty.
• even before the two of you start dating, you swear you feel someone's presence at night whenever you walk home from work.
• it wasn't until a mugger attempted to steal your purse that you finally learned where that feeling of being watched had been coming from.
• when the dark knight told you to be mindful of your surroundings and to hurry home before swooping away into the night, you could only nod with widened eyes.
• you didn’t say anything until you got home, to be honest, you geeking out: it’s not every day that someone gets to meet "the batman".
• you gleefully call your boyfriend about it. he doesn’t answer it until later, but you can hear a smirk in his voice as he responds to you fangirling.
• eventually, you find out about his identity on accident.
• as expected, you’re a little upset. someone you were romantically involved with was masquerading around town dressed like every night was halloween, getting into dangerous situations.
• after the two of you talk about it, you begin to understand why he does it and while you may not necessarily agree with some of his more controversial methods, you can’t help but feel a sense of pride that he’s putting everything at risk just to make sure what happened to him doesn’t happen to anyone else.
• alfred always reports to you first whenever something happens to bruce, knowing how much he truly means to you.
• you’re the one he listens to the most (even more than alfred) when it comes to what he should be doing whether it be a complicated mission or something as simple as eating a much needed meal.
• most of the time you would find yourself waiting at a restaurant for an hour before he would text you that he can’t make it because he’s being held up.
• when he does show up, he’s late, he looks like a mess, and he greets you with a lop-sided smile and half-lidded eyes. and you melt because you remember that he did choose you and you do love him.
• bruce’s absence is always outweighed by his affection. he loves touching you even if it’s just your shoulders or your fingers or your elbows. he always finds a way to be close to you when you’re together.
• he’s always trying to make up for the lost time with you by getting you expensive gifts and trips, only for you to reassure him that he doesn’t need to do all this.
• you’re always able to tell when he’s had a particularly rough night. his usual silence feels different; heavier.
• he becomes a lot more handsy with you, more affectionate. as if you’re the last flower in a prized garden and he never noticed until now.
• if you’re asleep by the time he gets back, you may get woken up by him caressing your cheek, rubbing a thumb over your hand, or him putting his big arms around you to pull you in close.
• one of your favorite things though is definitely seeing the family. most of the time you see alfred and always try to tease recipes out of him which expertly deflects.
• whenever the bat kids are at the manor, he invites you because they love you and he knows you love them too.
• dick constantly flirts with you and teases you and bruce. you love to play along with him because it makes bruce very uncomfortable.
• he finally proposes to you after three years of the kids telling him to do so. you obviously say yes.
• the two of you decide to have a small, private ceremony at the manor. friends and family only.
• bruce 100% cries as soon as he sees you walk down the aisle in your wedding dress.
• alfred volunteers to be the wedding planner, because he always knew that you would be the future mrs. wayne. <33
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Honey Girl. Chapter Five.
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Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - Does absence make the heart grow fonder, or does it just make everything ten times more difficult?
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. angst. mention of illness.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5.7k
Author's Note - it's here!! as always, I can't thank you enough for your love, support and patience with this fic. us writers lead busy lives, and i've been trying my hardest to find the time to write whenever I can, so it means so much that you guys stick with me - even when things take longer than expected. love you all. you're angels. please feel free to spam my inbox with thoughts and suggestions - it always makes my day when you're all so passionate. mwah.
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
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The sand is warm beneath your feet, cooling breeze cascading across your skin. The waves caress the shore in repetitive motions, lulling you into calm.
Sunlight beaming down, you shield your eyes and look up, sighing in contentment at the shades of blue that paint the sky.
A shriek and a laugh come from somewhere on your right. You look over and see a couple and their toddler running after each other, sprinting down the beach and into the ocean. The little girl can't stop giggling, tripping over her own feet as she chases her parents. Something tugs at your heart, deep and visceral.
It's been three months since you left home.
It's been three months since you saw Bucky.
He calls every few days, trying to give you the space you need while also keeping in touch. You have to resist the urge to call him every ten minutes. It's an improvement, at least. It was five minutes when you first moved.
He texts you good morning and goodnight everyday without fail, just to let you know he's there. You can't sleep until you get his text. It's like a lullaby, reassuring and soothing. Like a chamomile tea, warming and calming you from the inside out.
You think about him the most at night time. Your days are spent running around preparing for the bakery. Testing, retesting, writing up recipes, measuring out quantities. You want it to be perfect.
The baking is taking your mind off Bucky, for the moment at least. You've thrown yourself into your new role, eager and excited. Stella's ecstatic to have you around. You love that you're still just as close as you were, despite the time apart. Friendships like that are rare.
Lacie calls you most nights. She demands to know what you did that day, who you spoke to, what you made. It's like therapy, sitting and decompressing together over videochat. She's a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.
And of course, the most supportive people in your life - your parents. Your Mom is desperate to come and visit, begging that you let her know when you're less busy so you can show her around. She loves the sunshine just as much as you. A woman after your own heart.
On the nights when the doubt creeps in, unwelcome and dark, you remind yourself how lucky you are. Surrounded by people who adore you, support you, love you unconditionally. And then the night doesn't seem so dark. The light pours through the cracks.
You walk home from the beach, warmed and carried by the knowledge of love.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"This is ridiculous."
Stella's perched on the edge of your countertop, blush pink macaron in her hand.
"Good ridiculous?"
She scoffs, looking at you incredulously.
"Where did your confidence go? You never doubted yourself in school. Yes, good ridiculous. It shouldn't work, but it does."
Shouldn't work, but it does. Seems to be the story of your life at the moment.
"I need these on the menu."
"You don't think they're a little... pretentious? My best seller is a chocolate chip cookie. A honey and rosewater macaron isn't exactly a childhood favourite."
"Babe. That's the beauty of this. You can put whatever the hell you want out in your bakery. So what if they're unconventional? They're delicious. That's all that matters."
"Okay. Fine."
You relent, thinking about her earlier question. Where did your confidence go? When you graduated culinary school, you never doubted your abilities. Your technique, your flavours, your presentation - you had full faith in all of it. Now, you seem to be second guessing yourself.
You know it's because of your Tethering.
Before, you understood how the world worked. Good, bad, in between. Love, lust, the very clear difference between the two. You watched as other people found their forever person, and acknowledged their new journey.
And then you found Bucky. Or, Bucky found you.
Suddenly, the world you'd lived in before no longer made sense. The people, the places, the relationships, all impacted by the way you feel about your soulmate. Everything, everyone, everywhere, reminds you of Bucky. You're experiencing emotions you've never felt before. It's disorientating, confusing, complex. Your understanding of the world has changed completely.
It takes time to adjust.
No one ever talks about the way your Tethering turns your life upside down.
For some, it's completely positive. They enjoy the uprooting, revel in the change.
For others, it's a huge adaptation. One filled with tears, and confusion, and doubts.
Both are valid. Both are understandable.
You remind yourself of this every day.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"There's someone in the café that wants to speak to you."
The youngest waitress, Isabel, stands in the kitchen doorway, looking at you hopefully. You set down your piping bag and wash your hands, talking to her over your shoulder.
"Who is it?"
"No idea. Some guy. He's kinda hot. Brown hair, tall, beard."
Your heart skips a beat, breath caught in your lungs. Bucky jokes sometimes about coming to see you, but would he just show up announced? Do you want him to?
You can't feel it in your chest, you realise suddenly. You can't feel the ease, the relief, the knowing. Maybe being apart for so long has weakened your connection. The thought makes you strangely emotional.
You inhale carefully and thank her, before making your way out. It's almost closing time, and there's no one around other than the man stood with his back to you.
He turns around, and you realise quickly that your hope was misplaced. You've never seen this person before. He is handsome, admittedly. But he's not your soulmate.
"Hi."
"Hey. Are you the baker here?"
"I am."
He holds out his hand for you to shake, stepping closer.
"I'm Rafael."
You tell him your name, and he smiles, nodding.
"Forgive me if this is weird, but I had to meet you. To thank you properly, in person."
You don't say anything, so he continues.
"Let me, uh, explain. Sorry, should have started with that. My sister is sick. She's going through treatment currently, and it's been super hard on her. She's had no appetite whatsoever, and she's losing weight rapidly."
He takes a deep breath before continuing.
"A couple of weeks ago, I picked up a load of stuff from this place because my Mom was coming to visit. My sister tried your earl grey and lavender cookie, and ate the entire thing. It was the first time I've seen her eat for weeks. So, I came back and bought basically all of them every day."
You laugh, coming to a realisation. You wondered why those cookies were selling so well all of a sudden.
"I just wanted to say thank you. It might not seem like a big deal, but it's really huge for us. I also wanted to explain why all of those cookies were suddenly going missing at like ten in the morning."
You gesture at him to sit, the both of you taking a seat at one of the tables nearby.
You talk for almost an hour, listening intently to Rafael as he tells you about his family. He moved to California to be with his sister Maria when she got sick, no one else around to care for her. He asks about yours, and you tell him about your parents and their constant encouragement. He's also interested in how you got into baking, so you tell him all about culinary school, and the dreams your Grandma gave you when you were a kid.
"You're really talented, you know."
"I bet you say that to all of the bakers around here. But thank you."
His fingers brush yours where they're resting on the table, making you shiver.
"I'll make Maria her own box, if you like. I'll leave them behind the counter, just tell Isabel who you are."
"You'd do that for her?"
"Of course," you smile. "The idea that I'm helping someone with my silly little creations makes me really happy. We can work out a schedule, and I'll make sure I bake Maria some extras when I do my usual batch."
"You're incredible. Seriously. Thank you."
He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. The two of you are sat in the café as the sun sets, orange glow illuminating the room. You didn't expect to make a friend today. You're glad you have.
"Well, I should probably go and clean up the kitchen. You know where to find me, if you need anything. It was lovely to meet you, Rafael."
He rises when you do, smiling at you earnestly.
"You too. Nice to finally put a face to the cookie, so to speak."
You chuckle and show him out of the door, waving as he walks down the street. Suddenly, he turns around, striding back towards you.
"I'm so sorry if this is forward, and please feel free to say no, but... are you single? If you are, I'd love to ask you to dinner sometime."
The answer to that question is much more complicated than Rafael could ever imagine. So instead, you say,
"I'm not. I'm Tethered, actually."
His brows raise in surprise, but he's smiling.
"You are?"
"Yeah, I am. He doesn't live here, though. He lives back home, where my parents are."
"You guys are married?"
"No! Not yet. It's, uh... a complex... situation."
"Ah," he says, gentle, knowing look on his face. "I thought Tetherings weren't meant to be complex. Isn't that the whole point? That they're easy?"
You laugh, but it's not malicious. You're thinking about how sweetly naive he is, how he's got a huge storm coming his way one day.
"He's my Dad's best friend."
You're not sure why you're admitting this to a man you met an hour and a half ago, but you are. It's almost a relief, to get it off your chest again - to tell someone who's completely neutral, who doesn't know either of you.
"Woah."
"Yeah."
"That... is complicated."
"Yeah," you chuckle. "Understatement of the century."
Rafael leans against the wall, watching you intently. He's curious.
"How did your parents react?"
"They don't know yet."
His eyebrows raise almost comically high.
"Wait, what? How did you hide that? I thought it was supposed to be impossible to hide that you're Tethered. Although, I guess I had no idea, seeing as I asked you out."
"We wanted to figure it out for ourselves first, before telling anyone. And then I moved out here, so we're doing long distance. Like I said, complex."
"Understatement of the century," he laughs.
You look at each other for a moment, before he smiles.
"I'm sorry I asked you out. I wouldn't have, if I'd known."
"Please, don't apologise. I admire your... courage?" you grin. "And I appreciate you coming to see me today. I have like two friends here in Cali, so it's nice to feel like I've made another."
He smiles again, wider this time. Someone's going to be lucky to be Tethered to him one day, you think.
"I know it might surprise you, given my good looks and... courage," he chuckles, "but I don't have many friends out here either. I've been so focused on Maria, I haven't had time to socialise."
"The Universe works in funny ways, huh?"
"Sure does."
You wander back through the door, ready to close up for good this time.
"I'll see you tomorrow, for the cookies. And I'd love to meet Maria one day, if she's up for it."
"I'm sure she'd love to meet you. I'll bring her by."
"Thanks, Rafael."
"Of course. Thank you."
"Of course."
That night, when your Mom calls, you get to tell her you've made a new friend. That makes the both of you very happy.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You're testing out a recipe in the kitchen of your new apartment when your phone rings.
"Hey, Dad."
"Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"
"Yeah, I am, actually. I'm settling in."
"Good, I'm glad. I don't wanna keep you on the phone for too long, but I wanted to ask you something."
"Go ahead, Dad. Anything."
"How would you feel about surprising your Mom for her birthday?"
"What kind of surprise?"
"I know you haven't been gone all that long, and I know it's kind of last minute, but, I was thinking you could come back to... be her gift? She really misses you, you know."
"I miss her too," you say softly, trying to keep your voice even. "I'll talk to Stella, see if we can figure something out. I'd really love to see you guys."
"We'd really love to see you too, sweetheart."
"I'll call you back later, when I've organised everything. Love you, Dad. See you soon, hopefully."
"Love you, kiddo. Proud of you, you know."
"I know," you smile. "I know."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The journey always seems shorter when you know you're going home.
You make it back in record time, salty ocean breeze whipping through your hair as you cruise along the roads. You take a deep breath and sigh it out, relief filling your lungs. It's good to be back.
You can't let your Mom see you, so you head straight back to your apartment. Your Dad told you they're in the process of renting it out, but they haven't made much progress yet. For now, it's still yours.
You inhale the familiar scent, smiling gently. There's something so particular about the way a place smells when you feel like you belong there. It's like home and comfort and ease all rolled into one.
You unpack a little, folding your clothes and tucking them into the dresser. You told Stella you'd probably stay a few days, wanting to spend as much time with your family as possible. You're rifling through the refrigerator and thinking about a grocery list when there's a knock at your door.
You know who it is.
A feeling of relief washes over your body, tension melting from your shoulders. Your lungs fill easier, your breath falls deeper, everything is a little brighter, a little more colourful.
You open the door to be met with the sight of Bucky Barnes.
He's in work pants and a white t shirt that's stained with grease and oil, heavy boots on his feet. He must have come straight from the Garage.
He looks at you carefully, as if he isn't sure that you're real. You rake your eyes over his form, trying to drink him in. All the pictures you've taken and saved don't do him justice.
He exhales, beaming grin appearing on his face.
"You're here."
You can't help but smile back, his happiness spreading through you.
"I'm here."
Bucky rushes forward and scoops you into his arms, enveloping you completely. He wraps himself around you as he tucks you into his chest, his grip tight and unrelenting. You breathe him in, overwhelmed with emotion and sensation. You didn't realise how much you needed this. Three months is too long.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, slight shake in his voice. He's holding off tears. So are you.
"My Dad wanted me to surprise my Mom for her birthday. It's all a secret."
He smiles, before leaning down to capture your lips in a knee buckling kiss. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says I need you. A kiss that says please don't leave me again.
"How did you know?" you whisper when you pull away for air.
"I felt it. I think I knew the moment you arrived back in town. Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, for a second. But there's no mistaking that feeling. I had to come and see for myself."
"We're getting pretty good at this whole soulmate thing, huh?" you laugh, unaware of the tears running down your face. "I missed you, Buck. So much."
"I missed you too," he murmurs, kissing you again. "Didn't think I was going to survive, some days."
"Me too. Do you know how many times I stood with my car keys in my hand, ready to drive back to you?"
He chuckles and then sniffles, emotion dripping down his cheeks.
"I did exactly the same thing. So many times."
You wrap your arms around his middle, reveling in the way he smells like gasoline and home.
"How long are you here for?" he murmurs, worried he'll disturb the peace.
"I'm not sure. A good few days, at least."
"Okay," he breathes. "I can do a few days. We can do a few days."
"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I didn't know, to be honest. It was all kinda last minute."
"It's okay, pretty thing," he mutters into your hair. "It was a nice surprise."
"You're coming tonight, right? To my Mom's party?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
You stay wrapped up in each other for a little while longer, savouring his warmth. He rubs absentminded patterns across the skin of your back, committing the softness of it to his memory.
"I should probably get back to work. I took off with no warning."
"You're the boss. You're allowed," you chuckle.
He laughs with you, and the sound lights up your nerves, illuminates your bones. It settles itself in the hollows of your ribcage, tangles itself in your heartstrings. It's like medicine.
"Can't wait to see you tonight," you whisper. "Wear something cute."
"I always do," he winks, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Miss you already."
"Miss you more."
He looks at you, smiling.
"Man, we're the worst."
"Truly."
He kisses you once, twice, three times before finally leaving, reluctant to let you go. You spend the rest of the afternoon floating on air, relaxed and at ease. You haven't felt like this in a while.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
Your Dad sneaks you into the house through the side door, hiding you in the kitchen as he ushers your Mom through to the back yard.
It's decorated with floral garlands and streamers, flowers in vases covering the table he's set up. The golden, warm fairy lights illuminate the space, keeping it soft and intimate. He's been watching, carefully observing the way that she does things. He's recreated her party style perfectly.
There's a few of her closest friends waiting for her, gifts littering the spare chairs. Your Dad walks her outside, hands covering her eyes.
"Surprise!"
You watch through the door as your Mom gasps, grin on her face.
"Oh my God! You guys!"
She runs into your Dad, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"I can't believe you managed to pull this off," she says in disbelief.
He sets her back down on the ground and kisses her gently.
"I got you something. I hope you like it."
That's your cue. You sneak out as quietly as possible, standing behind her.
"Happy Birthday, Mama."
She whips around to face you, shock written across her face. Her eyes well up, tears threatening to spill. Yours do the same, bottom lip quivering.
She throws her arms around you, tugging you into her.
"I'm so happy you're here, baby girl. I missed you so much."
"Missed you. You look beautiful."
"Not as beautiful as you! Look at you, all sun kissed and glowy. You look so pretty, sweetheart."
You grin at her and she does the same back, your Dad beaming at your identical smiles.
"You're the best gift I've ever received. Then and now."
You're overwhelmed, suddenly, by the realisation that no matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many miles are between you - your Mom will always be in your corner. Your Dad will always be in your corner. Bucky will always be in your corner.
You think, for a moment, that despite everything, you might just be okay.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The night goes off without a hitch.
You drink, you laugh, you sing. You and your Mom dance to ABBA, Bowie, Donna Summer. Your Dad joins in, and can't help but grin every time he watches his girls together.
What a life, he thinks. I'm the luckiest man in the world.
When everyone gets a little past tipsy, your Mom changes the music to something slower, jazzier, richer. Your Dad pulls her into his chest, holding her close as they move to the melody. You're sat at the table taking off your heels when Bucky slides into the seat next to you. He pulls your foot into his lap and undoes the strap, sliding the shoe off gently. He rubs his thumb into your sole, smirking when you groan.
"Have you been avoiding me tonight, pretty baby?"
His cheeks are flushed slightly, top few buttons of his shirt open. He's been drinking a little, his walls lowered more than usual.
"I have to."
"Oh yeah?"
"I feel like I'm gonna burst into flames every time you look at me," you whisper. "I kinda want to rip your clothes off, baby."
He groans at the nickname. You know exactly what you're doing.
"It only takes one look for a minute too long to figure out how I feel about you, Buck. They'll work it all out instantly."
"Dance with me," he murmurs suddenly. "Your parents are too busy staring into each others eyes. Come on, honey. One dance."
His big blue eyes bore into yours, and you know you're fucked. You're never going to be able to say no to him.
"One dance," you whisper.
He takes your hand and leads you to the decked area, brightened by the golden lights. Bucky slides a hand over your back, resting there carefully. You intertwine your fingers with his and step into him, embracing the warmth that rolls off his body.
I'll Be Seeing You by Billie Holiday begins to play, and the two of you start to sway gently, eyes never leaving each others. Bucky pulls you in closer, and you melt into him. You don't care about the repercussions anymore.
Maybe it's the wine talking. Maybe it's something else.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"That was close!"
Your Mom's giggling as your Dad holds her, having just saved her from tripping down the front steps. Everyone's giddy, both from drinking and from laughing.
"Sweetheart. Bucky. Come back for lunch tomorrow. Your Dad ordered too much catering, and we need help eating it."
"Mama, are you sure?"
"I want to see you as much as possible before you go, babygirl. You too, Buck. I feel like we don't see you as much as we used to."
"He'll be there," you reply before he can protest. "We'll carpool, and I'll bring a strawberry and cream tart that I made for you."
She kisses you on the cheek, your Dad leaning in to kiss the other side.
"Love you both."
"Love you," they say in unison, laughing and yelling jinx. "Get home safe, you two!"
"I'll take care of her," Bucky chuckles. "Always."
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
"Why don't you see my parents much anymore?"
You and Buck are walking home along the sandy coastal path, fingers intertwined and sides pressed together. You look up at him, frowning slightly when he hesitates.
"Don't lie to me, James. I can feel it, remember."
You place a hand on your chest to remind him, and he nods.
"It's not the same here without you."
You weren't expecting the sincerity. It knocks you off balance a little.
You stop when you reach a wooden bench, sitting down and pulling him with you.
"So you're isolating yourself from the people who love you?"
He smiles, sadness rife in his eyes. Your tough guy act is crumbling.
"Not on purpose. It just kinda happened."
"You promised you'd talk to me, Buck. Especially if it got too hard. You need to accept support from people, or everything is going to come crashing down."
"I know. I know. But every time I go to their house, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I go to the beach, I'm expecting you to be there. Every time I walk past your building, I'm expecting you to be there, waiting for me to pick you up. Even when I'm sailing, I can't stop thinking about that day we spent on the boat."
"The other day I had to make three batches of buttercream, because I messed up the first two. I was so distracted thinking about you that I split them both."
He laughs, then, wholehearted and genuine. You can't help but join him, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.
"Bucky, you have to promise that you'll keep going, even without me. You have to see my Mom and Dad like you used to, you have to still sail and go to the beach. You can't put your life on hold for me."
He takes a deep breath, sliding an arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer.
"Okay. I promise."
You whip your head around to look at him.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that, honey. You're right. I've been waiting for you to come back, so I can start living again. But life is still happening, whether you're here or not."
"Wise words, wise man," you smile. "Not a minute goes by where I don't think of you. You know that, don't you?"
"I know. I feel it."
You watch as he brings your linked hands to his chest, placing them there. You rest your head on his shoulder, lulled into calm by the steady melody of his heart. You swear it beats to the rhythm of your name.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
The two of you can't bear the idea of separating, so Buck comes home with you.
"Have you got a blanket?" he asks as he's kicking off his shoes.
"I have. What for?"
"The couch."
You process for a moment before it clicks.
"You're not sleeping on the couch, Buck."
"No?"
"No. I want your ridiculous, radiator-like body heat in bed with me."
He smiles, all giddy and lopsided, before striding across the room to you. Cradling your face in his rough hands, he kisses you with fervour. He's making up for lost time.
You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging and pulling, smirking when he groans. He retaliates by grabbing your ass and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you through to your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.
Throwing you down onto the bed, he pulls his shirt over his head, watching you hungrily as you do the same with your dress. You're left in your underwear, leaving little to the imagination.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs. "Makes me want to cry."
You reach for him as he settles on top of you, your hand sliding along his stubbled cheek.
"I'm so glad you're feeling what I'm feeling," you whisper. "I'd think I was going insane otherwise."
Bucky kisses you again, before trailing his lips across your jaw, your ear, your neck. He's careful not to leave any marks, as much as he wants to. You glide your hands along the expanse of his shoulders, his back, his biceps. He's so strong, so broad. It makes you ache.
"So fuckin' pretty," he mumbles against your chest. "Like a goddamn dream."
You throw your head back as he attaches his mouth to your tits, nipping and sucking as he goes. Your hands are in his hair again, reveling in the way his groans vibrate through you.
Bucky slots his knee in between your legs as he kisses across your chest, smirking when you grind your hips into it. You chase the friction as best you can, moaning when it hits you just right.
"Needy baby. You don't want my fingers? My mouth? No? Just my knee?"
You nod, then shake your head. You're not sure what you're asking for, drunk on him already.
"Please, Buck. Anything."
"I'll give you whatever you want if you keep saying my name like that."
He makes quick work of pulling your underwear down your legs, swiping his fingers through your wet heat.
"Oh, fuck," he chokes. "Fuck, honey. Is this all for me? Hmm?"
"Yes, yes, yes."
"Yeah?"
"It's yours, Buck. I'm yours."
Bucky drops his head forward, bumping your nose with his.
"I think that's my favourite thing you've ever said," he mumbles against your mouth.
You reach up to kiss him, sucking his tongue before biting at his lips. You can't get close enough. Every inch of your skin is pressed to his, and you still want more.
Bucky crawls down the bed, situating himself between your legs. He nudges at you with his nose before diving in, lapping at you like a man starved.
You'd forgotten what people said about sex when you're Tethered, but it all comes back to you now. Everything is heightened, your senses on overdrive. It's like Bucky has the handbook to your body, and all he has to do is read the instructions the Universe has given him.
He's got you teetering on the edge in no time, right on the precipice. No ones ever made you feel like this. It feels like some sort of small miracle is happening, an otherworldly connection.
"Give it to me, honey baby," he murmurs into you. "Let me see how pretty you look when you come."
You tug at his hair as you reach your climax, the vibrations of his groan only prolonging your release. Bucky helps you ride it out, only ceasing his action when he's satisfied you're satisfied.
He rests his head against your thigh and looks up at you as you come down, breathing heavily.
"You good?"
"So good," you grin. "Never better."
"Me neither," he whispers, crawling up your body to kiss you again. You taste yourself and whine, desperate to feel closer to him.
"Need you," you demand against his lips. "Need you more than anything."
"I know, baby," he soothes as he smooths the hair back from your face. "Gonna give you everything you want. Anything in the world."
You're on the verge of tears again, completely overwhelmed. He's looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him. You think maybe you would, if he asked you to.
Bucky slides home in one gentle thrust, easy as breathing. The both of you exhale, savouring the moment. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before.
You pull his face down to you, resting your foreheads against each other.
"Buck, I-"
"I know," he breathes. "Fuck, I know."
"Need you to move, baby."
He nods and kisses you sweetly, before pulling his hips back and gliding forward. The angle is just right, both of you keening.
"Fuck, honey. So pretty. So tight. Fuck."
Bucky sets a steady rhythm, not too fast, not too slow. It's like he can read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. All you can say is his name as stars cloud your vision.
He slides his hand down your front, rubbing perfect circles on your clit with his fingers. You clamp down on him and he groans, low and gutteral.
"Need you to come, pretty baby," he whispers hoarsely. "Please. Waited so long for this. Please."
The desperation in his tone is what throws you into your release, muscles tensing and back arched. You grip his biceps, scratching your nails into his sun kissed skin.
Bucky can't hold on any longer, falling over the edge with you. The way he says your name as he does will be ingrained in your mind forever.
He drops his weight onto you entirely, no longer able to hold himself up. You wrap your arms around him, drawing absent minded patterns across his back. You're both sweating and panting. You're both completely content.
"Holy shit," he whispers after a while.
"You think it's gonna be like that every time?" you ask, grinning.
Bucky rolls off you and lands on the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.
"Honey, just you wait. I've got moves you've never seen."
You snort, unable to hold in your laughter. You're floating on cloud nine, satiated and warm.
"You're the worst," you giggle, running your fingers over his abs gently.
The two of you stay intertwined for hours, enjoying the way your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. You both drift in and out of sleep, conversing in the gaps. At some points, you just lay in silence, completely comfortable. No one needs to say anything. You both know what the other person is thinking.
Eventually, the sun rises, casting the room in a golden orange glow. Bucky looks like an angel, illuminated by the morning light. You wonder for a second if he is, sent down as a gift to you.
Suddenly, you feel an intense sadness in your chest. You look up at Bucky from where you lay across him, and see a single tear drip down his cheek.
"I don't want you to go."
The only sound that can be heard is his sorrow hitting the pillow.
"I don't think I want to go."
He strokes your hair softly, taking a deep breath to try and get a handle on his emotions.
"You have to, baby. It's your dream."
Your bottom lip wobbles for a second, before the words come spilling out.
"You're my dream."
Bucky sniffles, and you continue.
"I could have nothing, but I have everything if I have you."
You sit up and Bucky does too, capturing your lips in a tear stained kiss.
"We'll be okay, my honey girl."
You crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, letting his warmth bleed into your bones.
"I know," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince yourself or him.
You know you'll be okay. It just doesn't feel like it right now.
You wonder how many times you can keep leaving and coming back before one of your hearts breaks for good.
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tag list part one
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minhosimthings · 6 days
Text
Bewitched ft LHS
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Two lovers and the adventure of dried lilac
Pairing: bf!heeseung × fem!reader
Warnings: fluff, mention of food and bacterial infection (don't question it), kinda cringy ig? hee being down BAD for reader
Song: Bewitched by Laufey
A/N: Hello everyone! This is my submission for @flwrstqr My World event. Congratulations to Danielle for 3k followers! Now sit back, relax, and read my cringey poetry.
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I didn't know that much at all 'bout love before
But now, I think I'm learning
"Are you absolutely sure this will work?" Heeseung eyed you nervously.
You were trying to figure out how to stab open the extremely restrictive packaging of the box of dried lilac flowers, so without even looking up at him, you scoffed, as if you were offended that he was trying to undermine your amazing box-opening skills. 
 "Of course it will." You stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Plus, I did a lot of research for this."
"By research you mean the first three search results you got?" Heeseung chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing his chin on your shoulder. You shuddered at the cold touch of his skin on yours. 
"Be careful,Lee Heeseung, I have a weapon in my vicinity." You threatened him, waving around the dying scissors in your hands. The countertop was littered with scraps of cardboard and a crumpled up bill. The dried lilacs from Japan took three weeks to arrive and boy were you excited when it came. You almost hugged the poor delivery boy with how giddy you were. 
Your monthly tradition of doing something new with Heeseung was today and you were determined not to mess it up. Ever since the tradition started, something or the other has gone down the gutter. Like last August, when you had booked a seat for bungee jumping, which had to be cancelled due to heavy rains. Or the February of the year passed, when you wanted to make a bundt cake with him, which unfortunately never came out of the pan due to the absence of butter. 
But this time was different, you thought. This time, nothing could go wrong. After all, how can making lilac tea out of scratch ever go wrong in any possible way? There was no butter and no rain, except for the slight drizzle outside, which announced the end of the monsoon season and the start of September.
You bewitched me
From the first time that you kissed me
"Finally..." You muttered under your breath, as your hands reached for the flowers. They were tiny little buds packaged in an airtight ziplock packet. The colour was less lilac-y now, with hues of dark purple staring at you and Heeseung.
"Is it supposed to look rotten?" Heeseung asked, his eyes set on the packet that you were toying with possessively in your hands. You rolled your eyes at him playfully, and let out a dramatic sigh.
“How many times must I tell you-” You started dramatically, turning your body to face him, you could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “-that cooking is the art of turning a duck into a swan?”
“Calm down Shakespeare.” heeseung chuckled, his fingers teasing you by drawing shapes on your waist, “And ducks are really cute for your information!” He put his hand to his chest as if he were clutching his invisible string of pearls. A giggle erupted out of your mouth as you stood on your tiptoes to quickly leave a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose. Heeseung’s smile only widened as you did, a slight red mark lingering on the spot where your lips touched his skin. The calm scent of the evening, combined with the quiet of your kitchen sent a wave of absolute relaxation into Heeseung’s being.
“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully, your eyes rushing through the words on the lavender-hued instruction manual, “The recipe I saw on the internet said we can just boil them and the tea will just seep out.”
“But?” Heeseung’s chin returned to its rightful place on your shoulder. He was like an overactive cat, which would rub itself against its owner to show its affection.
“But-” you looked worried, much to Heeseung’s concern, “-this thing says we should wait for three goddamn months so there’s no-’ you cleared your throat and read from the manual, “‘threat of bacterial infection.’”
“Ominous.” Heeseung laughed, “I like it.” He smiled at the sight of a pout forming on your pretty lips, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I guess we have to wait then.” You sighed, a real one this time, “I mean, unless you want to get sick.” 
Great, you internally thought, another month gone wrong again. You wondered to yourself whether there will ever be a time when you actually get it right, when something that you and Heeseung do works out without any hiccups.
“Can I tell you something?” Heeseung smirked mischievously, garnering your attention. The pout on your lips melted his heart completely and his eyes visibly softened when he looked at you.
 “I actually like bacterial infection.”
 A moment of silence followed, before the both of you were convulsed with laughter. Your hands gripped the  edge of the counter to balance yourself, when Heeseung stuffed his nose into the nape of your neck, effectively putting half of his weight onto you.
“Hee, I’m gonna fall, get off me!” You laughed, but he only held you closer to him, as if you’d float away if he let go, “Ok, ok fine!” You giggled, raising your hands in mock defeat, “We can make the tea!”
“Yipee.” Heeseung cried in an adorably high pitched voice, that stretched your smile out even wider. If Heeseung were to die because of someone’s expression, then he knew it would be because of your smile. It was something that could make him forget all grief and suffering, no matter if he had the worst day ever, no matter if he had spilled hot coffee all over himself or accidentally snapped at someone, that smile of yours would be there to fix him.
Then we ran down the street in the late London light
The world froze around us, you kissed me good night
“Hee. Hee. Earth to Lee Heeseung.” Your words were half consumed by laughter, bringing him back to reality as he realised he had been staring at your face, “What are you looking at, idiot?”
Heeseung didn’t respond to your words, instead choosing to merely send you a lopsided smile. “Your idiot right?” he asked, to which you put your hands on top of his and squeezed it.
“My idiot.” You said, sacrificing your toes once more, to plant a kiss on his cheek, making Heeseung mentally kick his feet in the air for the fiftieth time that evening.
You set Heeseung about to do some kitchen duties, while you carefully extracted the dried flowers. Heeseung watched the surface of the water dance with the bubbles as it heated up. It reminded him of all the times you two had danced with each other. On particularly long nights, when the moon shone in all its majesty, bathing lovers all around the globe in her glamorous shine, both of you would find your hiding places in each other. Both of you would find your home, in each other, with arms wrapped not only around each other’s body, but around each other’s hearts.
“Is the water ready?” Heeseung heard you call out. He turned to see you, carefully sweeping the last of the petals into a bowl. 
“Yes, your highness.” He responded with a laugh. You tottled over to the pot of boiling water, slowly dropping your flowers in. You and Heeseung let out a collective gasp of wonder at the burst of colour that engulfed the colourless water. Hues of purple and lavender now coated each part of the pot, seeping out from the petals. 
“Woah…” You exhaled, not even knowing you had been keeping a breath in, “That’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” 
“It is.” Heeseung responded, to which you nodded, not taking your eyes away from the concoction. Unbeknownst to you, Heeseung was no longer even looking at the water. He was instead, gazing lovingly at you, with eyes so full of affection, you’d think he was looking at the last person on earth. In that moment of silence, he couldn’t help but trace his eyes over you, over every detail of yours that made you, you. The you that he loved so much. The you that he would go to the ends of the universe for, if you had asked him to.
Cursing at the moon and losing all control and crying
'Cause I think I'm falling
“This better be the most amazing thing that I’ve ever tasted or I’m never even touching a satchet of tea again.” You said, sinking down onto your sofa, with a mug of pinkish-tea in your hand. The sofa sank down further when Heeseung plopped down next to you, an identical mug in his hands.
“Shall we have a toast then?” Heeseung asked, raising his mug, “To hopefully not catching bacterial infection!” You chortled at his enthusiasm, before responding with a “Hear, hear!”
Clinking your mugs together in a ‘cheers’, you put your lips to the edge of the mug, wholly prepared to take a sip of your concoction and taste something that is equal to the nectar of the-
“We forgot the sugar, didn't we.”
You caught Heeseung’s eye and doubled over with laughter, almost spilling some of the tea onto your lap. In the midst of you admiring the pretty liquid, and Heeseung admiring the pretty you, you had forgotten the key ingredient which actually made the tea drinkable.
“Well, you kept distracting me with your beauty so much!” Heeseung defended himself, setting his mug down on the table, “How could I ever remember the sugar?”
“Do you really think flirting is gonna get you out of this?” You said, putting your mug down and glaring playfully at Heeseung.
“Depends.” He shrugged his shoulders, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “Is it working?” He didn’t have time to say anything else, before he was practically tackled onto his back by you. Heeseung wrapped his arms around your waist and you lay down on him, using him as your mattress, though there was plenty of space for the both of you on the sofa. 
“Welp,” You said, pressing your ear to his chest to listen to his heartbeat, “At least we won’t be getting a bacterial infection anytime soon.”
Heeseung chuckled, bringing his lips down to your forehead to leave a kiss. In the sanctuary of his safe arms, you forgot all about the fact that tonight’s attempt had turned out to be an utter fail. But you realised that it didn’t matter to you anymore. For in the warm cocoon that Heeseung had spun around you, all that mattered was the unnoticeable seconds that had drifted away in failed attempts of lilac tea, and successful attempts of love. In the pale cast of the full moon’s light, you and Heeseung drifted off to sleep, as the world came to a silent halt, waiting patiently for another tomorrow. 
You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart
And bewitched me
You bewitched me
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Dividers by @strangergraphics
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milswrites · 6 months
Text
The Sweetest Company
~ Azriel X Reader
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Summary: When opening your new bakery doesn’t bring as much success as you’d have hoped, Azriel comes to save the day.
Warnings: Like the teeniest bit of angst but it's mainly just fluff :)
The day had finally arrived, one that had been weeks in the making. After long painstaking days filled with re-decorating the crumbling building you had purchased and perfecting the art of baking your recipes, the time had finally come for you to open the doors and share your passion with the rest of the world.
You'd poured your entire heart and soul into this project, spending the last of your savings to make sure that the final result would be everything you had ever dreamed of.
It wasn't just you, of course, who worked tiresomely at making sure that the bakery reflected your vision. After encouraging you to take the leap and pursue your childhood dream, Azriel had stepped up to help with the refurbishment. Spending the rare hours he had free from work with you getting things ready, reassuring you that this big change had been the right decision.
By no means was this an easy move to make. Whilst baking had always been a hobby of yours, you had never once done it in a professional setting, let alone own running your own business. But Azriel had been your guardian angel, never failing to let you know just how proud of you he was and how pleased the male felt at the fact you were finally sharing your joy with the world.
Which is why after the months of working together to create your dream, you were starting to panic over the fact Azriel had yet to arrive on what was perhaps the most important day of your life.
His absence was as difficult to miss as a hole in your heart. The cruel silence of your empty bakery tormenting you as you told yourself he would be here any minute now. That anyone would be here.
A tediously long two hours had passed without a single customer, and without Azriel there to comfort and reason with you, your anxious thoughts were running wild.
What if you forgot to send out the advertisements? Whilst you remember going round all the other shops in Velaris handing out flyers, what if the keepers laughed behind your back before disposing of them?
What if the one thing you had dreamed of since you were a child had always been destined to fail before it ever even got the chance to open?
It was difficult to keep your tears at bay as you patiently waited for a customer to arrive. Your eyes stinging with tears as you moved to sit down on a chair at one of the empty tables, anxious hands coming to rub together on your lap. Failing to hide the way your gaze filled with hope whenever you watched someone pass by, only for your stare to turn to disappointment as they walked away from your bakery without so much as a glance in your direction.
When three soul-crushing hours had passed still customer-free, and Azriel had yet to make an appearance, you decided enough was enough for one day.
There was only so much embarrassment you could take and with the exhaustion of waking up early to prepare the goods for the day starting to creep in, you made to lock the door and leave to go home and wallow in your defeat.
Turning your back to the window as you allowed your tears to finally fall at the prospect that maybe Azriel didn't turn up because he knew today was going to fail.
Though it was only when you began to pack away your things in the back room of the bakery that you heard a hurried knock at the door. Wiping the silvery tears from your cheeks you composed yourself, opting to take a moment to calm down and gather your wits before moving to answer the door.
However, luck didn't appear to be on your side today as another round of incessant banging broke the silence of the bakery. Frustrated at the rotten day you've had, the impatience of the person outside aggravated you. Curses spilled out from under your breath as you moved through the bakery to the door.
Only to be stunned into silence as you saw who it was waiting for you outside.
Azriel had come.
Tears released from your eyes once more at the joyous realization that Azriel hadn't come alone. No, the male was surrounded by his beaming family and friends, all craning to get a good luck at what was waiting for them inside the bakery.
Even as you turned the latch, your words still failed to come. Your lost ability to speak not returning even as Azriel swept you into his arms, the male pulling back to take in your reddened eyes and trembling lips.
"What happened?" he blurted in concern, cupping your face in his large hands as his searching gaze found your eyes, "Did something go wrong? Why weren't you open?"
You let out a teary chuckle at his worried flurry of questions, moving your shaky hands to grip his own. "I'm perfect. . .it's perfect Az" you promise, because it was impossible to be anything else when the male had brought his entire family along to share in this special day with you. Your heart pleasantly aching with the realisation that he cared enough about this to want to bring them with him.
"Great!" Azriel smiled so widely that his teeth were almost bared, "Better get to it then, we've got customers to serve!"
It was a beautiful chaos, serving Azriel's over eager family. The tables no longer sat empty and the creeping silence had dissipated. Instead the room was filled with satisfied groans and merry conversation. Each member of his family coming back again, and again, and again. All wanting to try a slice of everything you had to offer.
The presence of the High Lord visiting your establishment certainly didn't go unnoticed, pools of willing customers flooded into your shop all with the goal of trying the food that Rhysand was so openly enjoying. Taking their fill of your goods until all the tables were filled and all the evidence of your hard work this morning was gone. The only sign that anything was once there being the smiling face of satisfaction which was worn by everyone in the room.
A slightly red-cheeked Azriel approached you, the male almost panting with exhaustion after helping you with the final rush, that same charming smile taking its place on his face as he spoke, "I think we may need to find you a few new helpers."
"I think I'm going to need to bake more" you laughed in return. Your anxieties from earlier in the day having melted away, a warming smile had now settled on your face in its place.
"Damn" Azriel cursed, a pout forming on his lips as he stared at the empty displays which were once lush with pastries and cakes, "I forgot to put something to the side for me to try. . .If only Cassian didn't eat all the cookies."
"Actually," you grin up at the disappointed male, "I may have something for you!"
You reach under the counter, pulling out a cake which you had meticulously decorated with blueberries. Azriel's eyes grew wide, yet despite his surprise his lips grew into small smirk. "You made this especially for me?" he asked, carefully taking the cake from your waiting hands to admire it.
"A thank you, for helping me achieve my dream. Maybe now we can start working on one of yours instead" you replied, words failing to express just how grateful you were to the male before you. Overwhelmed by just how incredible this opening had turned out to be, all thanks to him.
"I already have everything I want" Azriel answered, hazel eyes locked onto your own, "why wish for more when I already have you."
A rosy blush dusted your cheeks at the shadowsingers words, his stare so intense you could have sworn you were melting.
Slowly leaning forwards, you move to place a gentle kiss on Azriel's equally blushing cheek, only for the hypnotic moment to be broken by the boisterous Lord of Bloodshed.
"Az, you didn't tell me there was some more cake!" he cheered, stealing the plate from Azriel's unsuspecting hands before whisking it away to the table where his family was sat, eyes hungrily staring down the cake made for their brother.
Azriel grabbed your arm to stop you from chasing after the male. His warm lips coming down to meet your cheek, softly kissing you before he moved his mouth to whisper in your ear, "Don't bother. There's something sweeter I've got my eyes on."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: Anyone else picture Az in a cute pink frilly apron or was it just me?
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amiableness · 2 months
Text
𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞
Pairing: Modern!Uni!Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader
Interaction and feedback is what keeps me motivated to write, so I would love to hear you thoughts 🤍
Warnings: Language!
Word Count: 677
One of Us Series Masterlist!
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"No, I'd rather not. Thanks, though." You reply dismissively, siping at the cocktail Lily made for you. Every game night, she always had something new for everyone to try, whether it was a unique drink or a recipe from her grandmother's cookbook. Tonight, it was a turquoise-colored concoction with the rim of the glass dipped in sugar. And at the moment, it was the most interesting thing to look at in the room.
“Sorry, love, but this isn’t up for discussion.” James says from where he sits directly across from you, looking ridiculously cozy with your well-loved pink teddy bear, Mr. Cuddles. Clearly, creativity had been your strong suit at nine years old. The third Saturday of the month meant it was your turn to host game night. Your small living room was filled with familiar faces, cozy blankets, and an assortment of snacks and drinks. The scent of freshly popped popcorn mingled with the sweet aroma of the cocktail Lily had crafted for the evening.
To your relief, Remus had stepped out to take a phone call twenty minutes ago. You thought his absence would calm your nerves and help you relax. However, just as the game ended, James sprung a dare on you, shattering your brief moment of peace.
“The game has ended, Potter. I will not be taking any more dares.” You shoot him a pointed look, and he responds with that infamous grin, the kind that signals he's about to turn your night upside down.
“That’s funny. Because you didn’t take any at all, actually.” James emphasizes his point by lifting his own cocktail in your direction, as if to underline his words.
You shift uncomfortably, “Sorry?”
“You know the rule. All of us have to participate in a dare.” James grins, and you fight the urge to snatch Mr. Cuddles from his grip. If he wasn’t going to be nice, then he wasn’t going to cuddle your bear.
"Well, the dare wasn't just for me—it was for both Remus and me. And Remus must have taken a turn. So give me another dare." You usually didn’t keep tabs on what Remus Lupin was up to, nor did he on you.
“He didn’t, actually. He picked truth as well.” Lily chimed in. You shot a look of disbelief at your so-called best friend, who offered a sheepish smile in return before leaning into James.
“Not even when I left to get more snacks?” You asked desperately.
“No. Not even then.” James confirmed.
You paused, glancing between Lily and James unsure, “Did you plan this?”
“How would we have known you two wouldn’t pick dare? It was all luck, truly.” James shrugs, but you know better than to believe that.
Sirius, who was seated next to you on the loveseat and unusually quiet, draped his arm around you and pulled you into his side.
You glanced at him and narrowed your eyes unhappily. "Please, don't make me do this," you whispered desperately. Sirius laughed softly and pressed a kiss to your temple.
“It’s just a couple of hours. You can handle that.”
“Why the fuck do you look like you’re about to cry?” Your gaze sharpens as you lock eyes with Remus, who is staring you down intently from the doorway. You hadn’t heard him come back in.
“You should’ve picked dare earlier; saved us both the trouble.” You huff and shift slightly beneath Sirius’s arm, drawing Remus’s gaze. His eyes flicker to the way you’re nestled against his best friend, the tension in his expression momentarily giving way to a flash of something unreadable.
“What are you talking about?” He snaps, his brow pinched as he stares at you. James stands up and claps a hand on Remus’s shoulder, his face alight with eagerness to reveal the news.
“Congratulations, Rem! You’re having a sleepover with your favorite girl.” James cheers, his voice ringing with enthusiasm, and Remus’s eyes snap back to you. His jaw is clenched, and his posture is taut with tension. 
One of you was going to end up dead, surely.
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honeytonedhottie · 3 months
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HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE june edition⋆.ೃ࿔*:・🎀
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welcome back to honeys it girl magazine, this is the june catalog. get ready for the inside scoop on data that i've collected, things i've learned/started doing, and just general info like that organized in kind of a teen-magazine inspired fashion. a magazine for it girls ✨ and now please enjoy, the it girl magazine.
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LIFE UPDATE ;
as you may or may not have noticed, i've been hiatus for most of the month now. and i disappeared because of personal reasons, and one of those reasons being that i felt i needed to reflect. here are some things that i've learned and realized during my reflection time.
in that post i go into things that i went thru during the month of june and the reason behind my absence. something that i mentioned but failed to elaborate on in that post was what i plan to manifest next and i'll talk about it later on in the post.
FOR THE WELLNESS GIRLIES ;
this summer is a hot one, and one way that i've been getting my vegetable and fruit intake is through smoothies. smoothies and juices are perfect for the summer because they're SO refreshing so im going to talk about some smoothie recipes.
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adriana limas smoothie recipe ; (1 cup cold water + 1/2 avocado + honey). candice swanepoels smoothie recipe ; (1 frozen banana + 1 cup blueberries + 1 tsp protein powder + 1 scoop collagen powder + 1 tbsp chia seeds + 2 tbsp almond butter + 1 tbsp spirulina + 1 1/2 cup coconut water)
smoothies make amazing breakfasts or just amazing drinks to have when ur craving a sweet drink. for me, i like to keep my smoothies simple and use ingredients like strawberry and banana, but lately i've been loving mango in my smoothies.
LETS TALK MANIFESTATION ;
because of my period of reflection i had time to focus on what i wanted to manifest next and i wanna manifest a trip to italy for the summer + other mini things within that trip.
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i've already created a script for it, and im gonna start affirming for it on the first of july. im so so excited to go and share this with you guys...💬🎀 furthermore i wanted to share some manifestation reminders and posts that have been helping me so far.
ABOUT WAVERING
YOUR NOT A VICTIM, YOU NEVER WERE
HOW TO IGNORE THE 3D AND BE UNBOTHERED
PATRICIA NAVIDAD STYLE DISSECTION ;
patricia navidad in “la fea más bella” is an over the top, feminine queen who i absolutely adore. she was easily one of my favorite characters so ofc i wanted to make this editions style dissection about her.
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she has beautiful blondish hair that is similar to and complements her skintone, making her look super put together and gorgeous. she wears jewelry that she coordinates together. but my favorite outfit of hers HAS to be the one shown above on the left.
if theres one thing patricia knows how to do is to make her outfits work for HER which is why i thought she'd be the perfect candidate for this months style dissection...💬🎀
in this outfit shes wearing a matching pink set, the shade of pink is very soft and matches beautifully with the white (what looks like a corset-ish top) underneath. the color coordination is superb and she makes the shirt pop more by only using one button beneath her bust which draws attention to her figure and the top underneath.
THE CRINGE STIGMA ;
to be a victim to the cringe stigma is to be caged in ur own mind bcuz ur so scared of what others may or may not think of you. lets talk about it. the way others perceive u isnt ur business. lets think about how many times that you've stopped urself from doing something that u rly wanted to do, or something that you've really loved because u were scared of what others might say? imagine all that wasted time and energy worrying?
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its not ur responsibility to keep urself small or digestible for someone. u can't grow where ur comfortable so to grow u have to get uncomfortable even if that means being called cringe by others. bcuz when others call u cringe thats their own projection onto you and it rly doesnt matter. dont take someone else's judgement too personally and just enjoy yourself no matter what...💬🎀
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riongeee · 3 months
Note
Imagine Sebek getting a small fluffy animal as a pet, one that isn’t afraid of him. And that pet absolutely hates Malleus. Like anytime Sebek leaves those two alone the pet would just start glaring at Malleus.
Oh my god that's evil, I love it >:)
Sebek gets like a squirrel or a sugar glider maybe even a ferret that just absolutely abhorrs Malleus is GOLD.
The angst potential too >:)
Listen, it starts out as Sebek feeling lonely and being recommended getting a pet or something. For once, he's like 'yknow what, why not?' and goes to a pet store (or Sam because he probably DOES have animals. Not sure if that's ethical but hey....)
Every other animal is just a bit wary of him, he's half-fae(of the crocodile variety) and quite loud, so it's understandable enough. Just about as Sebek is about to leave a brave ferret or sugar glider just begins climbing him. He obviously gets flustered and tries to get it off before he realises it's not scared of him :0
Yeah he brings it back and he's so excited he sets up a whole little area in his room, making sure it's warm enough because if he can't stand the cold diasomnia, his pet probably won't be able too either.
Once he's fairly settled in with his pet and names it, he goes around Diasomnia to introduce it.
Except... the pet hates literally all of Dia3. Not even others, just Dia 3 specifically.
Lillia at first was amused and tried to interact with the little thing before getting bit and glared at. He's befuddled to say the least and Sebek scrambles to apologise.
Silver is absolutely astounded, usually animals flock to him in droves. Yet this little thing sits on Sebeks shoulder and glares at him as if he smells of week old socks. (Sebek probably didn't personally introduce his pet to Silver because he was worried it would like Silver more, that's how it's always been afterall.)
Malleus is the one the pet seems most averse to, it hisses and claws and just generally for some reason can't stand Malleus. Malleus is hurt but understanding but begins to distance himself from Sebek more to not aggravate the pet. From Sebeks perspective however, Malleus just hates him. So he turns to spending more time with his pet as comfort and eventually joining in with first year shenanigans.
Eventually, due to how much his pet hates Dia 3, Sebek begins to distance himself instead. Diasomnia don't even realise until they begin to notice the absence of the things Sebek used to do. The silly meals he used to cook(always with the best nutrition for wakasama), the sparring sessions, the thoughtful help and just missing the sunny boys presence after it's gone.
They try talk to him but that pet always gets in the way glaring at them, leading to Sebek leaving the room. Diasomnia are left with the impression that they have lost their youngest.
They try talking again when he is with the first years only to hear his laughter and stop in their tracks. When was the last time they illicited such a thing from Sebek, had they ever? Lillia even watches in distracted horror as Sebek walks over to the first years and ruffles Sebeks hair while asking him if he wanted to try a new recipe.
All this caused by one little pet :)
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sexyandcringe · 4 months
Text
Hopeless romantic
Part 1 ◇ Part 2 ◇ Part 3
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Warnings: none
Content: osamu x reader, Angst (to fluff in the next chapters), hurt/comfort
A/n: Guess the Song of Achilles reference! :)
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It has been around three weeks since you last saw Osamu that day: you took your chance to scurry away when he went back into the kitchen briefly, leaving your payment to Tsumoto.
The memory of his embrace with another woman still lingered in your mind, but you were able to distract yourself with the hundreds of books on your shelf and the dogs in the shelter.
You took this time to explore other places in the city, from the cozy Indian restaurant near your workplace, where the taste of salty chapati mixed with matar paneer melted in your mouth like butter, to the Mexican fast food spot at the corner of the library, where you savoured the taste of chiles en nogada followed by elotes. Yet,  nothing compared to Osamu’s handmade onigiris, the taste of his love surpassed any food you’ve ever tried.
You don’t believe he didn’t notice your absence, but it wouldn’t bother him that much, you assume, since you’re nothing more than a friendly regular. 
Or at least, you used to be a regular.
Now you are just a girl who spends her days between work and shelter,  occasionally going out to drink with the few friends you have. You know it’s wrong to use alcohol to dull the suffering, but sometimes it’s the only way to remind yourself that life still holds meaning, and that happiness, however fleeting, can be found.
But not going to Osamu’s restaurant has its consequences, like going to the grocery store to buy all the necessities to make a healthy meal and right now you are not exactly having fun doing all this.
When you were a child, your mother always told you to learn how to cook and clean because “someday you’ll have to do it for your future husband”, so, as an act of rebellion, you refused to learn anything other than the most basic dishes of your culture; this act of rebellion ended up biting your ass now because you are tired of eating the same basic things over and over again and you miss Osamu’s food.
You wander through the aisles, searching for the ingredients of the recipe you want to try.
it has been at least half an hour now and you’re meticulously selecting each item, trying to get the correct amount of food. You always tend to buy more than necessary, which ends up with you never using that specific product again and making it go to waste—like the honey syrup you bought for your pre-made pancakes that now sits untouched. You don’t even have time to eat breakfast most of the time. 
You are trying to understand which vegetables are less decayed than others when someone approaches you slowly. 
“That one will go bad in like 2 days.” 
You startle at first, but you freeze completely the second you meet his eyes.
“Hey.” he smiles.
Oh my god oh my god oh my god, please why did he have to come here out of all the grocery stores in the city?
You tried to forget about him like an unwanted pest, avoiding all the places he could be at, you even chose a longer path home so you wouldn’t bump into him while he closed the restaurant. You are old and tired and so is your heart, it can scarcely bear the burden of yet another heartbreak.
You drew in a slow, steadying breath before replying.
“Hi Osamu, long time no see.” you try your best to beam at him, like nothing has touched you, like you don’t want to run away this instant, like you don’t want to scream at him and hurl all these vegetables at him because you hate him for shattering the last remnants of hope you had left in you.
Like you don’t love him at all.
You tend to buy more than necessary, just like you tend to let your feelings grow more than necessary, and then, then they stay there, growing and decaying at the same time, festering with pests and resentment.
“Yeah, because someone hasn’t been coming to my restaurant lately.” He remarked with a petty edge to his voice.
Well, you jumped into that one.
A nervous laugh leaves your lips, “I was just … busy. We got a few more dogs in the shelter and it’s been a little hectic.” your voice is barely a whisper, laden with the weight of your lies.
Coward, liar, ugly.
He nods in quiet understanding, picking a zucchini with a pristine surface, a stark contrast to your rotten life. “Take this one. What’re ya making?.”
You take the vegetable from his hands and place it in your bag, his kindness pressing against the walls you've erected around your fragile heart “I don’t know,” you sigh, “I'm trying to make some vegetarian lasagna, but I already know it's going to suck. I’m a terrible cook.”
“You can always learn, you know.” he counters, a playful smirk gracing his lips “I wasn’t born with a knife in my hand.”
You roll your eyes, pushing your cart forward. “I’m lazy. And I don’t have anyone to teach me in a fun way.”
“I could teach you. Although I'm not sure if I can do it ‘in a fun way’” he signs with his fingers, “you won't die of boredom, I guess?”
“I’m always having fun with you, Osamu.”  And it’s true.
“That’s crazy considering that you haven’t come to meet me in three weeks.”
“Oh god, you’re so petty!” 
“Hell yeah, I am!”
You stare at each other before bursting into loud giggles; his eyes crinkle as he looks at you and you try so hard to ignore the warmth of your cheeks.
(and the warmth in your chest).
You are not used to being loved but you are used to love, and you can’t help wanting to stay around those you love, can’t ignore the tugs of your heartstrings. You know it will only end up in heartache and you are already regretting what’s coming out of your mouth, but you can’t stop it.
“Well? Will you teach me then?”
He smiles, and his face is like the sun.
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Reblogs are really appreciated!
Tag: @lees-chaotic-brain
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fablepaint · 11 months
Note
I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask anything here, but I wanted to know something. How is it like being a director of an animation? What’s your ideology when it comes to directing?
Messages anytime all the time
caffeinecaffeinecaffeine
body exhausted, enforces its own breaks
hard to go out, ever
STRESSSSS
MAAATHHH
wheredidmybraingo?
*smashed body part* thatll heal up finnnne. i dont have time for doctor!
ohgoddontfuckitup dontbeTHATguy ohfuckohshit
i love my partner i cant believe he puts up with this
hug every pet. theyre my emotional sponges.
manic creative spurts followed by sheepish anxiety.
PaPERWORK
hurry up and wait, times a thousand.
hope you like data sheets!
delegateDAMMIT
And thats when it's running smoothly!
otherwise my approach is to try and reflect the best examples of leadership and guidance IRL ive experienced. Mostly, from quality college professors Ive known. Tom Sito in particular exemplified a lot of what i strive to be. He was also formerly guild president and i think teaching your crew to view themselves as a collective that supports each other is vital to ensuring not just that they work together well, but also should anyone try to take advantage of them, they'll curbstomp them. I want them to be capable even in my absence, beyond the project, and able to run their own projects competently in the future.
i should be the one who guides and educates people into giving what's needed for the shot. Pain and blood are unwanted elements in that recipe. Theyre distractions and energysappers, red flags of a problem not a badge of honor.
Ideally, i barely have to do more than gently steer the work. And if ive communicated what im looking for effectively, theyre all plenty good at doing the work without me hovering over them.
if the work needs more guidance than that, then i roll up my sleeves and dive in as well. And figure out what the problem was, log it, and let that educate everyone else too (good documentation is essential).
i try to exhaust every option i have before blaming the person working on it for all the issues. Sometimes that is the problem, but even then i need to approach it neutrally and ask what human solution is required then. Do they need a break? was this not the right shot for them? is their way of processing the communication different than i expected? is there a translation problem?
in which case give people space to figure out some of that without judgement. Sometimes that means leaving for a bit, or permanently. But dont chase them. Just let them have their own life.
The only things i cant abide by are lack of communication that results in putting stress on the rest of the team. Consistent lying about availability and ball dropping despite constant outreach means someone has to pick up the slack without enough time or energy stocked up to take on the extra work. Anything that ends up exacerbating stress makes me upset.
But even then, it's still my job to spot the signs of this and make necessary adjustments before it becomes a problem. Including identifying where I made a miscalculation in hiring.
The buck always ALWAYS stops with me. I have the power to adjust the system to make it better, which means i gotta have a good grasp on that system.
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folkookie97 · 11 months
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❝ hating you's the only way ❞ — JJK
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— SUMMARY: ❝Loving you hurts so bad. Jungkook finds a better way to try lessing the pain. ❞
— PAIRING: boyfriend!Jungkook x girlfriend!reader
— TYPE: angst | non-idol AU
— WORD COUNT: 547
— WARNINGS: Inspired by Hate You (Jungkook), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Jungkook is bad at feelings, Mean!Jungkook, Mentioned Kim Taehyung, Curses, Argument.
— NOTES¹: that's my Jungkook's fav song <3
— NOTES²: it's crossposted on my ao3 account in Jungkook's version, but also in a JJ Maybank (OBX) version.
— RELEASE DATE: November 09, 2023
— CROSSPOSTING: ao3
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"What did I do wrong?"
The words left your mouth after an absurd amount of time in complete silence. Such a long absence of speech while you remained sitting on the couch, your eyes looking at your boyfriend and searching for any answer.
His indifference remained implacable and causing pain in your heart. "Jesus! You don't even care about our relationship."
It wasn't a question. But the confident statement at least caused a reaction from Jungkook. "Oh, so now we're talking about who really cares about this bullshit? 'Cause you don't even seem caring about us when you're looking at Taehyung with your fucking puppy eyes." He chuckled, even though his sentence wasn't actually sarcastic. "Fuck, (Y/N)! He's my best friend. You really think I wouldn't realize what you were trying to do?"
Your eyes widened, getting up from the couch so quickly that you made a loud noise. Jungkook still had his body fixed on the armchair in front of you, but you saw him shiver slightly.
"You crazy? I never thought anything like that about Taehyung!" Your throat burned at the volume of your voice. "Or anyone else!"
Jungkook rolled his eyes, starting to anger at your frustration. "Stop yelling. The world doesn't need to know that my ex-girlfriend is a whore."
Your eyes filled with tears at the venom present in his words.
If anyone else said that, you would get angry and trying slap them for such audacity. However, he was not just anyone. He was Jungkook. Your Jungkook. Your perfect boyfriend. Your boyfriend who hugged you during night storms. Your boyfriend who liked teaching Korean cooking recipes, no matter how bad you were cooking some of them. Your boyfriend who liked spoiling you with cute gifts every month.
Your boyfriend who called you "my little one" and "my princess". That Jungkook would never call you a "whore." He would never accuse you of something like that.
"Why are you acting like this? Why are you being so mean and accusing me of things I never thought of?" You let out a sob. A sob so sad that it soon turned into an avalanche of tears.
Lowering his head and swallowing hard when you starting your crying fit, you heard the last words Jungkook spoke to you before the official end of your relationship. "Stop crying, you're just making me hate you even more."
And when he walked quickly out of your house to get on his motorcycle, Jungkook knew he was just a coward guy. A guy who was afraid of love.
He chose painting you as the villain in your relationship. He chose to believe that you were telling lies from the beginning. He even chose to believe that you were thinking about kissing his best friend someday.
Jungkook was too afraid of love. Because it hurts. Loving you hurts him so bad.
Even though you two weren't perfect, you came very close. He couldn't afford to unexpectedly lose that. The thought of the possibility of you one day deciding to end everything literally killed him inside everyday.
If he were the one to destroy the relationship, maybe the consequences would affect him less. He would at least be ready, right?
Maybe hating you's the only way it doesn't hurt.
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choerypetal · 5 months
Text
Under the table / Dean Winchester
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summary: Dean and your relationship had been lacking a bit of spice. So, you made a deal between the two of you, amidst the teasing and perhaps a punishment or two, to reignite the excitement.
ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any little grammar errors
warning; very nsfw no plot hihi
enjoy! xo
Dean was the first to boldly admit to injecting some excitement into the relationship. Whether it was in the car or at the motel, he wasn't shy about spicing things up.
One day, as the two boys delved earnestly into another case's lore, Sam meticulously recounted every detail while Dean casually munched on his lunch. Yet, amidst their focus, Dean couldn't shake the thought of your whereabouts.
The excuse? You had informed Sam that you were out getting groceries, hoping to experiment with a new recipe you'd caught on a TV program. Tired of the usual pasta, bread, and beer that seemed to dominate the brothers' menu lately, you wanted to add something special to the mix.
"She better not make us something healthy," Dean's voice reached you just as you managed to slip under the table earlier undetected. Sam responded with a casual "Mhm," accompanied by a chuckle. Little did Dean know, you were right there with them, setting the stage for a playful tease the next time he wished to spend the night together. If only he knew tonight's menu was, in fact, healthier. You couldn't help but smile, knowing you couldn't laugh and risk giving yourself away.
Fortunately, Dean had taken a seat directly across from you, his familiar shoes and jeans catching your eye. Little did he know, he wasn't prepared for the surprise awaiting him, especially since your absence had been unmistakable.
"You know, maybe we can bring Charlie along," Dean suggested as your name came up once again in discussions about joining the boys on this mission. It was mentioned that your favorite creature was in town, and Dean couldn't bear the thought of you missing out on the action and the chance for a kill or two. Those thoughtful gestures made you blush, prompting a moment of hesitation before Sam and Dean refocused on reading more lore about the case.
Your hand delicately brushed against his bulge, causing Dean's muscles to tense, followed by a cough. You'd do anything to witness his reaction, especially when Sam inquired if he was alright. It was clear you were in for some punishment later tonight as Dean felt your familiar touch, gradually unzipping his jeans, the bulge now more pronounced. "Just a slight sore throat, that's all," he quickly dismissed.
You couldn't help but relish every moment, watching Dean struggle with excuses, particularly when it involved having a bit more fun. What you didn't realize was that even if he knew it was you all along, he didn't want you to get caught, let alone feel embarrassed as if you were fulfilling his desires. "Oh, sweet mother," he cursed under his breath, his back arching slightly as he covered his mouth before brushing it away.
Your hand then tenderly caressed his shaft, fingers deftly moving his boxer out of the way, unveiling his hardened cock. Lust danced in your eyes as warmth flushed your cheeks, leaning in to press a few kisses on its tip, where obvious pre-cum glistened. You delicately picked some on your fingers and licked the remaining. How Dean, cursed himself. When he yearned to thrust his hips the moment he felt your mouth envelopped his cock.
Dean's voice clearly heightened Sam's concern as he observed the redness on his brother's cheeks. Being the caring and protective sibling he was, Sam couldn't help but rise to his feet and check on Dean's potential fever. "I'll need to take Baby and head to the pharmacy anyways," Dean played along, going along with the idea, which meant more time to plan your punishment in return. "It won't be long," Sam said, grabbing his jacket and Dean's car keys before the sound of the vehicle faded away from the Bunker.
Alone at last, Dean removed the table curtain, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he leaned down to cup your face, devouring your lips hungrily. "Did you think I'd let you off that easily?" His voice was husky as he swiftly discarded his pants. Before you knew it, his fingers were tangled in your hair, guiding you to take him deeper. As you wrapped your lips around his cock, his moans grew louder, punctuated by your name. Leaning back in his chair, head thrown back and eyes closed, he urged you on. "Don't stop, love."
Your gaze met his, a look that undeniably ignited his desire, yet he knew he had to resist the urge to devour you right there on the table. It was a punishment he was more than willing to uphold.
"There, just like that," he murmured as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his shaft. Just as you were about to bring him to climax, your hand took over, stroking his cock. You felt his legs tense and his muscles contract as he reached orgasm. When his eyes reopened, Dean couldn't help but admire the sight before him. He knew your arousal was growing, how you longed for him to take you in his lap, but you both understood that you weren't getting off that easily.
"Nah, not yet, sweetheart," his voice grew huskier, his eyes darkening with desire. His fingers tightened around your waist, pulling you out from under the table. Your skirt rode up your thighs, revealing your obvious arousal through showing a glimpse of your damp underwear, his gaze inevitably drawn there. With a sly smirk, he knew it was payback time. "No touching until tonight—"
The door swung open, revealing Sam's incredulous expression. He was clearly disgusted to learn that the whole fever act was not just to save your skin, but also Dean's. "Under the table, really?!" To your surprise, instead of the expected look of disgust, there was almost a look of disapproval on his face.
"A room isn't enough?" Despite feeling a twinge of sympathy for him, you and Dean couldn't help but chuckle. In fact, Dean wore a proud expression and shrugged off his brother's comment. "What about dinner?" Sam then interjected, redirecting your attention from Dean’s.
"I went an hour ago," you said with a smirk. What Dean didn't realize was that it was actually going to be a healthy dinner. When you mentioned this, you could hear Sam's chuckle, a bit of payback in his amusement, while Dean's brow furrowed and he pouted. "One point from you for not returning the favor," you added, leaning in to peck his lips, eliciting a protest from Dean.
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