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a-b-riddle · 5 months

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Part 9 (unrevised version). Since I've gotten 6 messages and a good bit of asks requesting to view it. Here it is, not in its final form.

You had hoped Monday would have treated you better than the past two days, but walking up to your shop in the pouring rain to already see a body standing outside waiting wasn't a good sign.

Customers who waited outside your shop always made you feel uncomfortable. But when you finally got close enough, you took in the person before you.

"We don't open for another hour." Your voice flat as you fished for your keys.

"I'll wait." Was Kyle's reply.

"Then you'll have to do it outside." You said, the key sliding into the lock. He didn't argue as you shut the door behind you. Didn't even bother knocking when, after thirty minutes, you looked in the window to see that the wind was causing the rain to blow sideways.

You relented. Letting him in thirty minutes earlier. It was a small mercy, even if he was soaked to the bone. You almost felt bad when his chattering teeth were the only thing you could hear.

Almost.

"I take it John told you about our little talk yesterday." You said, going about your business. Engaging in the conversation as if you were talking about the shitty weather that had tried to drown him.

"He did." He gave a sniffle. Running a hand over his beautiful, wet face. Droplets still staking their claim on his skin. "H-he alssso t-t-told us we were on our own in begging for our own f-forgiveness. Ra-ra- rightly s-s-s-so."

You huffed. Guilt beginning to eat at you before you turned, disappearing to the back of the store and coming back with a shirt and a blanket. "You left the shirt here."

He had no shame and wasted no time in taking off his jacket and soaked shirt. His chiseled body exposed to you. It was almost instinct to reach out and touch the soft skin. You luckily possessed some form of self restraint.

"So are you here to promise to make amends as well?" You crossed your arms. You meant it as a sign that you were wanting to create distance, but honestly you didn't trust yourself. It was second nature. Kyle and Johnny were tied when it came to having to always touch you.

Probably why his ghosting sucked so bad.

"I'd like to take you out." You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. It wasn't until Kyle's face fell that you realized, "Oh, you're actually serious."

He opened his mouth, ready to no doubt give you the same exact promises of doing better that John had given you the day before. Fortunately for Kyle, you didn't have the time to entertain a conversation.

"Fine." You immediately relented. No argument. "That Indian place where I asked you to go four months ago. Seven. If you manage to figure out which place, then I'll be meeting you there. Otherwise you'll be eating alone."

Kyle stood still. Unprepared for the fact that you had... agreed. You actually agreed to let him take you out.

"I can pick you up."

"Not sure what time I'll be getting off today. Might go home first. Might just go straight there." You started opening tasks again. "I have to finish setting up. Seven sharp.

"Seven sharp." He repeated, his smile lighting up the room.

It made you feel sick.

It was 6:45 when your phone started ringing. It was Kyle. Confirming that he was at the restaurant you were supposed to go.

7:00. He had gotten the two of you a table. He'll go ahead and order you a drink. They had mango lassi, but wasn't sure if you wanted to stick to just water.

7:15 He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, a follow up text is sent asking if you're okay.

At 7:20, while sitting on the couch you text back. Sorry. Something came up. We'll reschedule, I promise.

If you knew giving them a taste of their own medicine felt so good, you would have done it ages ago. You felt no since of shame in sending it. You hated being petty, but you wanted them to know what it felt like.

John had a lot more of verbal outbursts coming his way and if Johnny was hoping for a chance, he would be lucky if you had sex with him again before marriage.

Ten minutes later, on the dot, there was a knocking on your door. Your food had arrived. Blindly, you opened the door. Only instead of the take out you had delivered, Kyle stood there. Yet again soaked to the bone and this time out of breath.

"How did you know I was here?" Was the first thing that had come into your mind. If anything, he would have went by the shop first, but no. He came here. You weren't the type to deviate from a schedule, but christ. Simon at your date and then the club. John at the shop on your day off. Now this. "I swear to fucking god this fucking stalking-"

"Easy now, Love. No one's stalking you." Bullshit.

Absolute bullshit. They were military. Really important and special connections type of military, but this was bullshit. They were keeping tabs on you somehow.

"I know for a fucking fact that place is only ten minutes away. So you didn't have time to check out my store-- where I should be-- before coming here. So I'm going to ask you again, how did you know I was here?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "Stalking. We're stalking you." Kyle was lying. We he nodded like a bobblehead, you knew whatever was coming out of his mouth was bullshit. The first time you confirmed it was after Johnny had volunteered to make haggis. Kyle told him it was good, no doubt hoping to spare his feelings.

"Kyle." You warned, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. He paused as if trying to form another lie, but coming up short. Sighing in defeat, he confessed.

"Blocking us didn't stop you from sharing your location." In that moment, you could have strangled him. They had been still using your location. Something you had given them as a way to find you if you ever needed help. Now those assholes were using it for their own benefit.

"Son of a-" you shut your mouth. "I can't do this with you right now, okay?" You didn't confess that your publisher had asked for a last minute zoom call in the middle of your busiest work hour to see how you felt about doing a few meet and greets, all expenses paid.

Good news, but still... overwhelming. You still felt like an imposter. That you didn't deserve the hype you were getting. Your story wasn't that good. Your characters didn't hold much depth.

"Everything okay?" You didn't want to tell him. Didn't want to give him the chance to offer the reassurance you desperately needed for something he had no idea about.

"Why?" You asked, changing the subject. "I just want to know why? With John I get that the job gets stressful and needing someone to take-"

"No," he finished. "That's not an excuse. It's a reason. Not an excuse." His jaw clenched. "There is no excuse for how any of us treated you."

"Then what was your reason?" you asked. "I'm finding it very hard that someone who quite actively avoided me suddenly wants to get back together."

"I slacked off?" He shrugged. "I figured there were four of us and if I wasn't able to be there, it wouldn't make a difference."

"If you're just going to lie, Kyle, there is no point in continuing this conversation." You go to close the door only for his hand to stop you.

He stands there, looking at the ground. Even from the this angle you can see him take his bottom lip between his teeth.

He's nervous.

You step back. Giving him the option of coming in and saying it is whatever it is he needs to stay. He may be an ass like the rest of them, but this isn't exactly a conversation you want to have in the hallway for your nosey neighbors to hear.

He takes the silent invitation. Walking in and not speaking until you click the door shut. "You want the truth?" His voice is soft, but there is something else behind it. Anger?

"No," you say sardonically. "Please. Lie to me." He sighed, but didn't say anything. You were exhausted. The past few days had been a back-to-back rollercoaster of emotions. You were drained. You didn't have it in you for this right now. "Kyle-"

"I thought you only kept asking because you felt bad for me." He said the words so quickly, it took you a moment to process them. He thought.... you felt bad for him? "Like you were still trying to include me even if you didn't want to."

"Why?" Was the only thing you could come up with. You didn't have the energy to try to come up with your own reasoning for his admission.

"Don't think I don't know how I am compared to the them." He scoffed. You always knew the hierarchy of their work, even if you didn't know all the details. John was at the top. Captain and head bitch in charge. Simon was the lieutenant with Johnny and Kyle as Sergeants. Kyle was the youngest of the group by two years, but still. What was there to compare?

"So you're not a Captain or Lieutenant?" you shrug. "Johnny is the same rank as you. And you are the youngest and I'm sure with time you'll get to a position-"

"Black!" He said. "I'm black. I am the only fucking black guy not only in this relationship. I'm the only black guy in the 141, in the unit."

When it came to Kyle, black was the last thing you thought of. You thought of his soft brown eyes or house his hands felt so smooth against your body. How his smile could light up the room and how beautiful, how head-turning gorgeous he was. "I'm just an after thought in everything else regarding the 141, why would you be any different?"

"Ky," you were going to be sick. Was this how he really felt? With you? With the others? With work? "You know I don't feel that way, right?"

"Do you remember that time we went out? That french place?" How could you forget. The maître d' had asked Kyle to put a card on a tab before the two of you were even seated. At first you thought it was preposterous. Why would you make patrons at a fine dining restaurant do that? This wasn't a pub for Christ sakes. Kyle told you not to worry about it and handed over a card.

The two of you never went back.

"Oh my god." It dawned on you. "When they asked for your card..."

"I..." he sucked in a breath. Trying to keep his composure. "It was fucking humiliating. I was a man dressed to the fucking nines with a gorgeous girl on my arm and before I even got the chance to blow my money, I was treated like I couldn't afford it. It wasn't because of what I was wearing or who I was with. It was because of me. Of who I was. Who I am."

"Kyle," words escaped you. Nothing in that moment to reassure him that it never dawned on you. That it stupidly never dawned on you how there were times that people did look at him different. You wanted to tell him that it didn't matter. That you were just as important and lovable and respectable as the others. That you loved him just as much. Words failed you. All you could say say was, "I'm so sorry."

He swallowed, before taking in harsh breath through his nose. "It's not an excuse. I got wrapped up in my own stupid fucking head about how other people looked at me, I forgot it only mattered how you did."

"And you did." You said, aching to reach out. To touch him. Offer some comfort. Hating that he ever felt like he wasn't enough. Knowing the feeling all too well. Even if he was the one to make you feel it. "You did matter to me."

"I know." He said. You were thankful he said it clearly. Not shrugging his shoulders or nodding his head as he spoke. "I'll do anything to matter to you again." He took your hands in his, even though they had ached to hold you closer. But he knew not to test his luck. "If you want to press restart and let's take it back to the very beginning, I'll do that. I will court you and woo you and make you fall in love with me all over again because I will never fall out with you. I can't."

You weren't prepared for this. You had prepared to leave Kyle waiting in a restaurant alone. Now your heart ached in your chest at the idea of letting him ever think he wasn't enough because of the color of his skin.

"It doesn't have to be now or tomorrow or next week or next fucking month." He squeezed your hands the same way had John had. With the exact same intensity and promise. "Just let me try again. I won't let you down this time. I'll put in the work."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to work to make this relationship work, Kyle." You protest, wanting to pull your hands away. Free from the spell his touch had seem to be putting you under.

He smiled. Not enough to show off his teeth, but enough where have of his face lifted up. "It's not the type of work with long hours and a shit commute. Loving you is the same kind of work an artist puts into making a masterpiece. Pouring everything into it and getting something beautiful in return."

Before you could comprehend it, your face was wet. "Kyle." Your lips quivered, a sob threatening to come out. "I never felt like I needed to spend time with you, Ky." You sniffled. "I fucking wanted to. I missed you." You were so close. You needed to reel it in. Get it together.

"I just didn't understand how you could." His confession broke any restraint you had. Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to subdue your cries. When Kyle pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you, you allowed yourself to crumble.

Not even for yourself, but for him.

For the kind heart you now knew broke with every sideways glance from passer-byes. For the hateful and prejudice world you lived in and for how they could overlook such a wonderful man just because of something as basic as the color of his skin.

You weren't sure how long you stood crying. You weren't certain if the knock on the door behind him actually happened or something your mind had conjured to try and pull you from your fit.

Eventually you did pull away from him. Your face covered in snot and tears. Seeing that you still were in need of it, Kyle pulled you back to him, only this time your face wasn't buried into his shirt.

You stood there. His arms wrapped around your back while yours found their home around his waist.

"I used to love when you would come back to my place directly from base as soon as you got back from a deployment." You said, breaking the silence. "I would be waiting like a kid on Christmas waiting to see what trinket made you think of me. You made me feel like even though we were so far away, you still thought about me."

"Always." He said, before his lips pressed against the top of your head. "Not a day I didn't miss being here with you."

The two of you eventually settled down on the couch. Both on opposite ends with a hot cup of tea in your hands and the array of take out containers half empty. You had planned for a night of eating your feelings so there was luckily enough food for two.

"I don't want to say no." You admitted. "But I need time. Before I even think about saying yes to all of this again."

"Not all of this," he reminded. "Just me. I'm doing my part in groveling, let the others figure it out. Or at least that's just what Price told us. Although you would be doing all of us a favor if you talked to Johnny?" Your ears perked up. You hadn't seen or heard from Johnny since Friday.

"What's wrong with Johnny?" You asked.

"Lad didn't cope well with you going on your date." Not that you had fucked him and said it was a mistake.... or maybe he kept that tidbit to himsle.f

"It wasn't a-" you started.

"I know," he said. "Simon happened to be nearby." You shot him a look, letting him know you weren't buying that lie, before he continued. "But he didn't. Fuck you're lucky we were able to drag him out of your apartment before you got back and he made an even bigger fool of himself."

"What are you talking about?" You asked. "What do you mean by drag?"

"Johnny called Simon. Told him you were on a date and to bring your ass back. Although you had made it a point to fuck him and leave-- absolutely no judgement, by the way-- he was going to make it a point to never leave your bed."

"My top sheet..." You had come home to your comforters and pillows on the floor. When making up your bed, the top sheet was missing. You had just assumed you didn't put it on or maybe it was in the wash.

"Refused to put his clothes back on. Me and John couldn't risk carrying a naked, screaming Scot through the streets without making a spectical. So we rolled him up and carried him of like a rug. A very heavy, squirmy rug."

"Oh," your hand flew to your chest. "Johnny." He was the bleeding heart of the group so you weren't exactly surprised. He was also the one who blew up shit, so he was definitely one for dramatics. "So that's how Simon figured out about dinner. But the drinks-"

"Whenever Simon is home, he's your shadow. The only time we don't worry about you is when we know he's with you." That made you roll your eyes.

"You act like he's my guard dog."

"He is."

"Is not." You defended, your conversation from Saturday night coming back to you.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be."

"He's not." you said again.

"You're right." Kyle relented, shrugging his fucking shoulders.

"You're saying that like you're just not trying to argue with me." He took a sip of your tea. "Kyle!" He sighed before looking at you as if the last thing he wanted to do was continue on the subject.

"He is." He said. "Your guard dog."

"I mean he protects me, but all of you do." He shakes his head, a huff of air going out of his nose, almost amused.

"Not like Simon." He admits it almost as if he were ashamed. "I want to say something." He said it as if he were preparing you for the next words to come out of his mouth would change the course of the night. "I need to say it because it would make me less of a man and even less of a friend if I didn't. But I don't want you to hate me or yourself for it."

Why would you hate yourself for it?

"Fine." you agreed, giving him permission to continue. "I won't hold it against you."

"You were always the one to coordinate things to do. One-on-one dates. Helping John with paperwork when shit got to crazy and you were the only one the uptight asshole would let touch his files." You gave a small smile remembering how John had barked at a recruit to get the fuck out of his office before peppering you with kisses at your arrival. Giving small pecks of appreciation as he explained what he needed you to do and how to do it.

"Helping me after my shoulder injury and staying on my ass about the physical therapy."

"Well someone had to." You countered.

"This past Christmas when Johnny needed to get his sisters gifts so you made a whole day out of it going to see lights and ice skating." Johnny was the proud owner of a freshly bruised tailbone after landing flat on his ass and swearing off skating for the rest of his life. Feckin' ice.

"Okay?" You asked, not really sure where Kyle was headed for this. He had pointed out what a good girlfriend you were, had been. How you had always tried to be helpful and do whatever needed to help your boys out.

He stopped. He looked at you as if he were debating to tell you what he had warned you about. He looked down at the floor before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Fuck." He muttered.

"Spit it out, Kyle!" You whined, now clueless to what point he was trying to make by all the examples of what a good girlfriend you had been.

He looked at you with the same solemness that a friend looked at another friend before having to call them out on their shit, knowing that the pill they were about to be given would be a hard one to swallow.

"You never did that with Simon."

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #angst #john soap mactavish #angst with a happy ending #grovel

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tpwk-formula1 · 8 days

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Hiii! Just read your fist pizza order and I looooved it so I thought I might as well give you some writing to do!

Could I please have a pizza with cauliflower crust, Alfredo sauce, banana peppers and broccoli? With some sprite and lemonade and dessert please! And served by franco (I need him to be the sunshine in this)!

Thank you so so much 🥰🥰

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

cauliflower grumpy x sunshine Alfredo sauce sweet sex banana peppers "Look so pretty riding my cock" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" sprite size kink lemonade body worship dessert yes served by Franco Colapinto

Franco x grumpy! girlfriend

TW A short one, morning sex, riding, unprotected sex

WC 800+

Y/N POV

"Good morning pretty girl," Franco mumbles when he starts to wake up from my nails running across his shirt-covered back. He starts turning onto his side and pulling me slower to his chest making me groan.

"It's too early," I mumble back making Franco giggle softly at my morning moodiness.

"Why is it that your alarm always wakes me up and never you?" I question with an arched brow making Franco's face heat slightly from being called out before he just shrugs. He'd much rather wake up to his girlfriend's touch anyway.

"Come on baby, we have a big day!" Franco says with far too much excitement making me bury my face back into his chest not waiting to leave the bed.

"No," I grumble gripping onto the back of Franco's shirt not wanting him to get out of the bed either.

"Come on," Franco says dragging out the "n".

"20 minutes," I say coldly making Franco giggle but relax slightly into my arms.

"Gonna make us late baby," Franco says but still making not move to get out of bed.

"Babe, we don't need to be in the paddock for another 3 hours, 20 minutes wont kill us," I tell him making him shrug.

"Just excited for my first race," Franco says with a smile on his face making me smile softly at him.

It was Monza race day which means it's Franco's first Grand Prix in Formula 1 and he has been extremely anties the whole time.

"I know, and I'm happy for you," I tell him softly before pulling him in for a soft kiss.

What was supposed to be just a quick peck slowly turns into a heated makeout session, resulting in me climbing into Frnaco's lap and grinding down on his hardening cock.

"Fuck baby, we don't have time," Franco groans making me grind down harder, making both of us whine at the pleasure coursing through us.

"Please, we have time," I say while pulling off the shirt I had slept in the night before. I start pushing Franco's shirt up to reviel his tones abs and chest when I instantly lean down and start kissing him neck and chest before pushing myself down a little further pulling his boxers down slightly before pulling his cock into my mouth for a soft suck making Franco groan.

"Fuck baby, so good," Franco groans when I start bobbing my head softly.

"We'll be quick," I say as if he needed any further convincing.

"Come ride me, baby," Franco says clearly having no patience. I just giggle and roll my eyes at his neediness before climbing back into Franco's lap and sinking down his cock when I pull my thong to the side.

"Fuck," I groan at the stretch before I slowly start rocking my hips trying to gain stimulation before I start bouncing up and down making Franco moan.

"Look so pretty riding my cock," Franco moans out softly making my face heat up slightly at the praise.

"It's so good baby," I mumble softly.

"Fuck, always so good for me," Franco groans moving his hands to my hips and giving them a hard squeeze before he starts helping me bounce on his cock.

"I'm close," I moan out already starting to get shakey legs, which has Franco flipping us over so he was now hovering over me and pounding into my pussy making me moan and whine at the stimulation.

"Fuck," I moan when the new angle has Franco hitting a new spot deep in my pussy.

"It's like you were made just for me, Huh?" Franco states bringing a hand down to my clit making me clench around his cock ready to cum.

"Please can I cum," I beg needing my release.

"Cum for me," Franco groans before sending me over the edge into a strong orgasm and squeezing around Franco's cock making him pull out and cum all over my tummy.

Once both Franco and I have come down from our highs he slowly climbs out of bed and pulls his boxers off all the way before pulling my thong off and picking me up and taking me into the bathroom.

Once he turns the shower on and lets the water heat up Franco takes my hand into his pulling me to join him.

We spent the next 20 minutes cleaning each other off before we got out and started getting ready for race day.

"Told you we had time," I saw with a smirk when we walked into the paddock hand and hand 15 minutes earlier than we needed to be.

Franco just laughs and shakes his head before kissing my forehead softly.

"Gonna get us in trouble one of these days," Franco says making me smirk and shrug.

"You wouldn't change it for the world though."

#franco colapinto #f1 #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x you #formula 1 x you #formula one imagines #formula 1 smut #formula one smut #f1 smut #franco colapinto smut #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto x reader

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chewnotchoke · 4 months

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boynextdoor and their love languages

warning: some suggestive parts, use of real names (riwoo only)

sungho

receiving: quality time, acts of service

𓍯 his type of quality time is visiting new places with you. so he really appreciates it when you call and tell him "let's eat at this restaurant. i heard it's a really good place!" and he'd agree immediately.

𓍯 he gets so excited when he sees your contact name popping on his phone screen because he knows it's call time! he'd answer it on the first ring! when he's busy, he'd call you back immediately and would spend at least an hour talking on the phone

𓍯 loves it when you cook his favorite dish! since he loves affirming you, he always tells you to cook it again for him because apparently, you cook better than a renowned chef.

giving: acts of service, words of affirmation

𓍯 surprises you with bubble baths after a long tiring day. "prepared this for my girl because she has to save up all her energy for tonight."

𓍯 you rely on him opening tightly sealed jars and it actually turns you on. "babe, can you help me open this?" and it was as easy as flicking an ant for him.

𓍯 "i care for you. is there any way i can help?" // "everything's alright, babe. everything's okay because you have me. i'll always be here, hm?"

riwoo

receiving: words of affirmation

𓍯 really really loves affirmations! he gets so red and shy though.

𓍯 he loves it when show expression of appreciation for his work/performance. everytime you say "it was a really nice performance, sanghyuk! you did so well." he'd throw pumches in the air out of excitement and satisfaction.

𓍯 but he would easily get hurt when you talk to him in a low voice or no emotions at all because it makes him overthink :c pls don't raise your voice at him too! he will tear up.

giving: quality time, acts of service

𓍯 to him, giving you 20 minutes of his time means giving you 20 minutes of his life. he values time with you so much.

𓍯 fond of doing your skincare at night OMG. for quality time, he loves doing facial masks together while laying in bed. he'd then start bringing up the first time he met you and tells you how in love he is with you.

𓍯 since he loves affirmation, you'd tell him "oh look at this pretty boy doing my skincare." while he soothes your face with the moisturizer he just applied on your skin, and then he would press his lips together to hide his smile. because of that, he's peck your kiss as his way to appreciate your words.

jaehyun

receiving: physical touch

𓍯 he loves being babied when it's time to go to bed. he loves it when you pull him closer to your chest and cuddle him 'til you hear his cute snores.

𓍯 have i mentioned he loves being babied? because he really likes it when you're all over him, when you grab his face, when you ruffle his hair.

𓍯 "can i get my kiss later?" he would plead at you in the middle of his work. "of course! i'll give you lots of it when we get home. so please just focus on your work for now, alright?" your mouth curved into a smile. "can you give me 100 kisses later?" he couldn't be any cuter when he asks for kisses from you. "i'll give you thousands, jae." you answered. "we'll have to make out then..."

giving: physical touch, acts of service

𓍯 definitely the "after you, my lady" type when opening the door for you.

𓍯 the touchiest of them all! like he wouldn't allow it at all if your knees or feet are not touching under the table during dinner.

𓍯 would get whiny if you sit across him on the table and not beside you. "hey, what's wrong? why are you sitting there? your seat is here." he said as he pats on his lap, giggling like a child.

taesan

receiving: physical touch

𓍯 whenever he does something worthy to be proud of, he would lean his cheek closer to you and tap it with his pointer finger so you could kiss it. you always end up giving him more than what he asks!

𓍯 nothing's more important than holding him when he cries. he rarely cries but this one time he got so vulnerable after a tiring day, he never found a greater comfort than being in your arms.

giving: gifts, quality time, physical touch

𓍯 “my parents aren't home.” he'd chuckle on the other line of the call. you knew what he was trying to imply.

𓍯 he has this hobby of giving you hand-picked flowers!! "would you like me to get you daisies next time? alright, i'll look for daisies next time." he ends up taking all the flowers in your neighbor's garden because he found it as pretty as you.

𓍯 a big spender. doesn't mind of the price as long as he buys it for you.

𓍯 always loves burrying his face on your neck for no reason at all. also, 100% thigh grabber!!!

leehan

receiving: words of affirmation

𓍯 his eyes light up whenever you tell him you remember the things you've done with him, things he likes, and foods you've eaten together even if they happened a long time ago.

𓍯 he gets really emotional when you tell him you don't take him for granted :c

𓍯 both of you loves writing letters for each other especially when it's handwritten. he thinks it means a lot when you spend time writing about him the traditional way.

giving: acts of service, words of affirmation

𓍯 rather than sexual activities, he's more into giving you head pats, combing your hair, rubbing your arms as a way of intimate touching.

𓍯 for leehan, communication is the very essence of a loving relationship. he always seeks understanding and reconciliation every after an argument. "can you tell me how i made you feel like you're being too much? i promise you were never too much for me. let's talk about it, babe."

woonhak

receiving: quality time, words of affirmation

𓍯 he's the type to get discourage easily with the feedbacks he's getting. so you telling him that he's doing a really great job is very important to him.

𓍯 he likes having talks with you after his schedule, where you'd sit in front of the tv without actually watching the tv, and would proceed to talking about each other's day.

giving: quality time, gifts

𓍯 you're That important to him he'd let himself lose the game when you suddenly call out of nowhere just so he could accomodate you. "i'm out guys, i'll be talking to my girlfriend. have fun!"

𓍯 giving gifts = symbol of thought. but he's kinda playful with it. "got that for you because it reminded me of you." and then it's an adorable mushroom plushie because he knows you can't eat mushroom. he would laugh saying, "i know you'll never get to eat mushrooms but at least you can keep that for a lifetime!"

𓍯 proximity ≠ togetherness. when you're together, he always ensures you're included and never forgotten. he doesn't take your presence for granted and makes sure you do things together.

𓍯 this one's really really cute but i definitely see him as the type who would spend time on youtube learning how to make diy gifts for you!

requests are open! i'd gladly work on it if you want me to write something ^__^ comments/reblogs are highly appreciated <3 check my other works too!

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lazycats-stuff · 1 month

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I wanted to know if you could make another request for the Bat Brother that was created to be a weapon when the Black Canary said he was ready to go to school, Bruce put him in one, but a boy tried to intimidate him and the Bat Brother broke his arm. He still couldn't understand what he did wrong because of his training.

I sure can. I love that idea. Also, this gif is Bruce explaining to the Bat Bro, that no, you can't go break people's arms.

Summary: (Y/N) doesn't understand that intimidation doesn't require broken bones.

Warnings: Bruce is a tired dad, (Y/N) is a weapon, but nothing specific about training, mentions of attacking, but nothing specific

Bruce sighed as he got a call from the Justice League. Another child that was created to be a weapon. Why? And why is he the first person they call? Damian was with him, since he was on patrol with him since they got the call.

" Father, why are we here? " Damian asked as the two used the Zeta tubes. Bruce sighed yet again.

" Because they think I'm an expert when it comes to children who are murderous. Just because I made sure you are tame I presume, " Bruce replied and Damian scoffed and rolled his eyes.

" Oh please. I'm not murderous. "

" Should I start talking about shrubbery? My beloved animal statues are still recovering. You started at what, 5 am? I did eradicate that habit of yours, didn't I? "

Damian huffed again, crossing his arms.

And yes, if you somewhat managed to tame Damian, a child murderous as him if you don't have Damian, you are officially an expert. That's why everyone turns to him when there is a murderous child. Bruce should start teaching them how to deal with such children.

" Superman. " Bruce nodded in his direction and Superman nodded back.

" Evening you two. We've managed to get the boy's name. His name is (Y/N), last name still unknown. We found him in one of Lex's labs. Under some nth alias. " Superman crossed his arms and Bruce scoffed.

Of course. When in doubt who else could be creating clones? Lex Luthor.

" Why isn't he thrown in prison when there is overwhelming amount of evidence against him? " Damian questioned and Bruce more often than not wondered the exact same thing.

The answer?

" Connections Damian, connections. " Bruce rubbed his chin and Damian scoffed, muttering an of course underneath his breath.

" But don't worry. He'll fall down eventually. If my hunch is right, he is probably messing with taxes. And if there's one thing that America doesn't like, is when you mess with taxes. That's how they took down Al Capone, " Bruce said to Damian, who nodded.

" We'll be waiting for a while then. " Damian crossed his arms now and Bruce chuckled.

" Don't worry Damian. IRS will take care of him. And once he's down, we'll strike as well and put him away for life. Don't worry about it. And how is (Y/N) doing? " Bruce asked, turning back to look at Clark.

" He's... Well, he had to be sedated. He broke Flash's nose. And we checked on him via cameras and he seems... Calm, but I've known you long enough to know that he is simmering deep down inside. " Clark chuckled and Bruce smirked.

" So you called me because the boy is mini me? " Bruce mused and Clark chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

" Yup. I wouldn't recommend meeting him now though. He is pissed off. Black Canary will come by in the afternoon so she can talk to him. I know that she can take care of herself, but you should be here, just in case. " Clark scratched the back of his head, yawning.

" Tired already Superman? " Bruce teased and Clark chuckled.

" I'm going back to the cave father. Should I tell the others about (Y/N)? "

" Please do Damian. Warn them about the new addition that is going to come. I'll be back in about 20 minutes. Tell the others to sleep as well, " Bruce told Damian and the Robin nodded, disappearing through the Zeta tubes.

Bruce turned back to Clark, who offered him a tablet with the information that Bruce was interesting in. They both knew each other so well.

" Everything here is an estimate, besides the physical appearance. The age and all that stuff, " Clark explained and Bruce nodded as he read over everything. " He's a mini you Bruce, " Clark added and Bruce rolled his eyes underneath the mask.

" Alright. I'll transfer these to the Batcave and just text me the time when Black Canary is coming so I can ditch work. I'm pretty sure I can ditch a boring meeting. " Bruce smirked to himself as he started the transfer.

" Ah yes, the infinite meetings of a CEO. " Clark chuckled and Bruce handed him the tablet back.

" The boy will be fine, I'm sure of it. With some therapy and stability, he'll be good, " Bruce said and Clark nodded.

" I can only hope so. "

Months went by since that last conversation. (Y/N) was aggressive at first and outright refused to talk to Black Canary, who had Bruce behind her, just in case. And yes, Bruce had to restrain (Y/N) to make sure that he didn't hurt himself or Black Canary when he has decided to attack.

And attacks were frequent at first. More often than not, Bruce had to restrain him just so that they could get through a single session. And slowly but surely, therapy has started to work. (Y/N) was slowly but surely starting to opening up and became less and less hostile. Of course, there was a long way to go still, but he was making decent progress.

Bruce brought his boys to socialize with (Y/N). The boys are all trained and if (Y/N) does get hostile, they can take care of themselves. Bruce has warned them about it, so they were all prepared.

And (Y/N) seemed to appreciate the gesture, although distrusting of them at first. So, the boys have decided to take a different approach. Dick has decided to bring some books to (Y/N), some of his own favorites, so that he wouldn't be left to his own devices, aka, his mind and be pissed.

So Dick brought a lot of books. (Y/N) liked them all and Dick was proud to say that he had a great taste in books.

Jason has simply decided to talk to (Y/N) about stupid things he could think of. (Y/N) had a lot of questions for him and Jason was more than happy to answer them. He found (Y/N) nice, but too similar to Damian when he first joined.

So Damian and (Y/N) bonded quickly over their experiences. Damian opened up about his own experiences, sharing techniques on how to remain calm in certain situations. Offered meditation techniques as well and gave him advice on how to accept certain things.

And Tim brought him a tablet where he could watch cartoons, movies, whatever he wanted to get familiar with the world outside of fighting. Essentially, it felt like they were socializing a little puppy. (Y/N) really liked the tablet and took great care of it.

Black Canary also like the approach that the boys were taking and (Y/N) has been even less hostile in their sessions and has actually started to open up to Black Canary. Bruce was also a constant in their sessions, and while he may have looked like a brooding figure, he actually helped (Y/N) be calm.

Soon enough, (Y/N) went to school since Black Canary deemed him ready enough. Was Bruce nervous beyond belief for the first time in a long time? Yes. Damian might have been raised to be a weapon in some sort of capacity, but he was raised as an assassin and assassins are to supposed to blend in. And be somewhat sociable.

(Y/N) was not really raised to fit in. He was raised to be a weapon. Not to fit in. Only to kill. So was Bruce nervous beyond belief during the first week. He has hoped he wouldn't get called in to the principal's office.

But hope doesn't last forever.

Bruce was in Wayne Enterprises, in his office, doing some paperwork when the phone rang and Bruce recognized the number. It was the principal of the school. Bruce knows that number since he used to get a lot of calls from the same man while Jason was still going there.

It's burned into his memory.

He had a feeling it was about (Y/N) and was proven right. He muttered a simple ' I'm coming.' Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. This was going to be one rather uncomfortable conversation.

(Y/N) got suspended for 2 weeks. Bruce was not happy in the slightest. (Y/N) broke the poor boy's arm just because the boy decided to intimidate him. Was intimidating (Y/N) fair? No. But was breaking someone's arm just because of that justified?

Absolutely not.

Bruce sat (Y/N) down in the kitchen, thinking that the others wouldn't be home. Oh he was very wrong. They boys were back earlier since they had heard what happened. How? Bruce can't exactly know, but he knows that he has trained those boys. So somehow, they all found out and were ready to listen in.

" (Y/N)... We've talked about what to do when someone is intimidating you. You can't put your hands on them. " Bruce put his hands on his hips and (Y/N) crossed his arms.

The four boys were enjoying this. Jason snickered to himself and Damian smirked.

" I mean, (Y/N) isn't technically in the wrong. Why was the kid intimidating him in the first place? " Jason muttered to himself and Damian nodded, agreeing with Jason.

" It was a form of self defense. "

Tim shook his head and Dick chuckled to himself.

" No, self defense would mean that he put his hands on you first. But he didn't. You did. Which is assault. Thank God that by paying the medical bills would keep them off our back. " Bruce now crossed his arms, trying to be calm and patient. " I know it's not easy to live a normal life when you weren't raised like that, but you have to adapt. Black Canary and myself have taught you that. Where is the disconnect? " Bruce inquired.

" Well, he threatened me. Soon enough, he would turn into a real threat, " (Y/N) defended himself and Bruce swore that (Y/N) was like an another version of Damian.

" It doesn't matter. It's not self defense. I've texted Black Canary and you are going to have your sessions double during these 2 weeks, " Bruce declared and (Y/N) scoffed, showing some sort of sass.

Bruce wanted to rip his hair out.

" Go to your room and reflect on what I told you. I'll call you down when dinner is done, " Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead. (Y/N) clenched his jaw as he walked upstairs.

Damian and Jason were smirking, knowing exactly how he felt. Tim and Dick sighed to themselves. They knew that (Y/N) felt frustrated and angry. They had another version of Damian on their hands. Maybe an even more difficult version.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

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daxerian · 1 year

Text

Mama y Papa

Carlos Sainz x Reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: my grammar😻, sickness and fluff

Words: around 4k I think

A/n: I am so sorry I was gone for a month but girlie was sick and wanted to spend time with her friends and family🤞🏼

Y/N was talking to Carmen about life you know? Work, their relationships, family, etc.

It was a pretty deep conversation until they heard "Y/nnnnn?"

Of course, it was Lando asking his 'grid mum' for something to help him with, which was no problem from her side but when she saw Lando holding a bottle of water and looking a bit annoyed, she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Oh, Lando what's wrong?" Carmen asked smiling knowing that the 2 had a mother/son bond that will never be broken.

"I can't open the bottle and I couldn't find Carlos" Lando answered Carmen. "Hand me the bottle darling" Y/N said while waiting for Lando to give her the bottle. She opened it like nothing and handed it back to him, "There you go" Lando just looked at the bottle for a few seconds and then took it, "Thank you Y/N" "No problem Lando"

----

It was around 1 am when Y/N found herself looking at the wall cursing herself out for drinking coffee at 7 pm. At least Carlos is having the time of his life sleeping and clinging to her body.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when somebody decided to call her. She only wondered, who the hell would want to call at this hour? Surprisingly it was Lando, she went into an instant worry in seconds and picked up almost immediately.

"Lando, are you okay?" The worry in her voice was incredible because people wouldn't worry like that when their friends called at night, well that was not the case for Y/N and Carlos Sainz.

"Can you pick me up? I'm near the coffee shop you like and it's freezing and I don't have a jacket or a sweatshirt" Lando answered her, "I'll be there" She hung up the phone a started to wake Carlos up. "Carlos, wake up! Carlos!" once he did wake up he asked his wife "What's wrong mi amor?"

"It's Lando" and that sentence was all it took for Carlos to fully wake up. "Well, why are you still laying in bed? Let's go" Carlos hurried his wife out of bed because if something would happen to Lando he wouldn't survive it. He promised himself that he would take care of him the second he met him.

---

It was the day after the British GP and Lando wasn’t feeling well, was it because he went out clubbing to celebrate? Probably yes.

He tried calling Carlos and Y/N but they weren't picking up, that was the moment Lando accepted his fate. He had to go through the pain alone. Until a miracle happened. Carlos called back.

"Lando, are you okay?" Carlos asked curious, "No, I feel horrible and I've been throwing up" Lando admitted, "You've been what?" it was Y/N's time to ask Lando questions, "Have you taken any sort of medication? You know what, we'll go to the pharmacy and grocery shop so I can make you soup okay?"

Y/N told Lando the plan she created in seconds because there was no way she would let Lando deal with it by himself. Carlos hung up the phone and followed his wife asking her more questions like 'What do we need?' type of questions.

20 minutes later the couple was in Lando's apartment. Y/N made some soup while Carlos had Lando laying in his lap talking to him on the couch. "Lando you will take this after you eat okay?" Y/N showed him the medicine, "Mhm" he answered with this tired tone to his voice which Carlos or Y/N didn't like.

Lando fell asleep on Carlos' lap, and the couple was now having this genuine conversation. "He's like a few years younger than us but acts like a teenager" Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the last part, "Oy mi amor, he's our son at this point no?" and Carlos was right "Our firstborn!" Y/N added.

---

Carlos, Y/N decided to take Lando with them for their vacation. They decided to visit New Zealand first, and after that, Carlos and Y/N will be going on a big family vacation to Ibiza.

They went to a restaurant because they got hungry and when they arrived Y/N was ready for this;

"Y/N can you please order for me?" Lando asked politely, "Tell me what you want to eat then". "This pasta and this mixed drink please" Lando pointed at the menu while telling Y/N his order, Carlos just sat back and quietly enjoyed the moment because even though Lando is old enough to be enjoying life on his own, he would rather spend it with the people he idolizes. Carlos and Y/N Sainz.

#f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

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anonymousicecream · 18 days

Text

Leave Me Alone III (Kwon Eunbi x M Reader)

8 Years Later...

You're now working as a photographer, based in New York City for the past 2 years ever since you graduated. You worked for large brands including Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, Christian Dior and Calvin Klein.

"Y/n, we need you to take Aaron's place. He has a family issue." Your supervisor told you. "Alright. Where's the shoot?" "Central Park Tower.

(Timeskip)

You arrived at the shoot location 20 minutes later, immediately preparing the camera for the shoot. You set the lighting, as well as finding the perfect spot and angle for the talent which will allow you to shoot them in the best possible way. "Y/n, let me introduce you to...." You heard your supervisor said as you turned around, and you saw someone you never expected to see.

"Kwon Eunbi...." You whispered. "OH, you know her?" Your supervisor asked you, returning your consciousness to the current situation. "Just professionally, from her past shoots." You said. "Oh. Well, Ms Kwon, this is Bae Y/n, our photographer for the day. I'll leave the two of you to discuss the shoot and you can start in no time." Your supervisor said, before leaving the two of you.

"So Ms Kwon, I heard that you uh, will do shoots for two different outfits, am I right?" You ask her, trying to break the ice. "Yes Mr Bae. We'll do this white bra set first before going to the black one." She said, acting as if there wasn't any history between the two of you. "Right. Let's start then."

(Timeskip)

"Alright that's good, goood, perfect!" You said, complimenting her after each shot. "Alright, for the final shot of this collection, I'll need you to expose your left shoulder." You instructed her, as she did so immediately, obeying to your commands. "PERFECT!" You said, before giving a thumbs-up, notifying her that this shoot is done.

(Timeskip)

"Nice, nice. Another pose, please..... GOOD!!!" You complimented her while shooting repeatedly. "Alright I'll need one more pose. However for this, I'll leave it all up to you, so you can set your pose and I'll adjust accordingly." You told her and she nodded. You then waited as she got into her pose, but when she did, your jaw dropped, due to how seductive, and hot, she looks.

"Fuck...." You muttered, seeing her get into position. You immediately got to shoot her, wishing the shoot to be over ASAP.

(Timeskip)

"And.... done! Good job Ms Kwon. You may leave now!" You said, before returning your focus to your laptop, as you transfer the pictures from your camera to your laptop.

*Clack

Your focus was suddenly distracted by the sound of the doors locking. You looked up and saw Eunbi lustfully smirking at you, the look you knew and loved. "Ehm, Ms Kwon, how may I help?" You ask her, trying to maintain formality. "Oh drop that Y/n. We all know you're used to calling me Eunbi." Eunbi said, walking towards you, unbuttoning her jeans. She then sat on your lap, before she starts grinding on your crotch.

"Eunbi. We're not in that situation anymore." You reminded her, making her roll her eyes. "Fuck that. We're adults." Eunbi replied, trying to kiss you, but you held her lips with your hand. "Yes, and what we did was a childhood mistake, nothing more." You said sternly, making Eunbi frown at you, before looking away, tears are forming on her eyes as she tries to hold them back.

"Eunbi, I-I'm..." You try to say but no words came out of your mouth. "It's alright Y/n, now I know." Eunbi said, before getting off your lap and walking towards the door, unlocking the door as she left the room. You sighed, disappointed at yourself for making HER cry.

(Timeskip)

After the stressful evening you had, you decided to go to a beach in Long Island. It's the very place where your present life in New York intertwine with your past in Korea, as you always took your special ones here, as well as the countless nights you spent here, drinking your good (and bad) memories away.

You parked your 1967 Ford Mustang near the edge, turning off the engine before grabbing a towel, walking towards the beach, setting the towel down before you opened a bottle of wine, pouring it gently onto the glass. You started drinking it slowly, taking in the view and mood as the sun set.

*Thud

You heard a thud and turned around. You saw a young toddler, face down, on the sand. You put your glass down and immediately rushed to her aid. You helped her get up and saw her laugh, sighing a relief as you're thankful she wasn't hurt. "Be careful dear." You said, making her chuckle. "What were you doing, making you run so much?" You ask her, as you helped her stand up. "Well, I'm trying to run from my imo." She replied. "Why were you running away from her?" You ask her again, as you guide her to where you previously sat. "Well, we were just playing and I thought it'll be fun to run away from her, but still within her eyesight." She said, making you chuckle.

You then grabbed your bag and opened a bag of M&M's, offering it to her. She gladly nodded and took it, as the two of you shared the pack together. "Hey Mister, I never got your name." The girl asked. "Well, my name's Bae Y/n. I'm from Korea but I moved here a few years ago." You told her, making her gasp in surprise. "I'm from Korea too Mr Bae!! My name's Kwon Wonyoung!" She said, making you smile. You offered your hand for a high five, which she did immediately.

"Why are you in New York now?" You asked Wonyoung. "Well, my mom is currently working in New York, and she told me that my dad is also in New York, although I never found him." She said, getting sad after remembering about the condition with her dad. Seeing her reaction, it reminds you of a certain someone who has a similar reaction when they got sad.

"WONYOUNG-AH!!!!!" You heard someone shout, making you and Wonyoung turn your heads towards her. "Ah, that's my imo. I should get back to her." Wonyoung said snarkily, making you chuckle. "Yes you should. I'll get you to her." You said, following Wonyoung's steps to her imo. Wonyoung jumped up to her imo's arms, hugging her as her imo sighed in relief, being thankful that she didn't lost her nephew.

"Omo, who is this?" The imo asked. "Oh my bad. My name's Bae Y/n. Wonyoung happened to fell behind me when I was sitting, and we had a small chat." You told her. "Oh, thank you for accompanying her. My name's Kwon Hyewon, it's nice to meet you too." She said, as she offers her hand, which you took, as you shake her hands.

"Imo, can we take this Mister with us back home?" Wonyoung cutely asked, making you chuckle. "Erm, I'll be fine with it, but you need to ask him nicely." Hyewon encouraged Wonyoung, as Wonyoung walked towards you. "Mister! Do you want to grab dinner with my family?" Wonyoung asked. "Of course Wonyoung, and from now, you can call me Samchon instead." You replied. "Yayyy thank you Samchon!!!" Wonyoung replied happily, making you smile. "Let's head home then. My car's just right there." You point out, tidying your belongings before returning to your car. You helped the two of them get into your car before they gave you directions to their residence.

(Timeskip)

You arrived at their residence, which shocked you at the very least because it's in a very upscaled neighborhood. You parked your car where Hyewon ordered you to, before walking into their mansion. You were guided to their living room by Hyewon, who asked you to wait there with Wonyoung as Hyewon called her unnies.

"UNNIEEE!!!!" You heard Wonyoung scream, standing up to rush behind you, onto the arms of someone. "Wonyoungieeee I miss you so much!!!!!" You heard a VERY familiar voice, making you shiver. "Omo, who's this?" Wonyoung's unnie said. You then stand up before turning around and the sight in front of you was shocking, to say the least.

"NOOONA?????/DONGSAENG?????" You and Irene shout at the same time, making Wonyoung close her eyes. "W-what are you doing here?" Joohyun noona beat you to a question. "W-well, I met Wonyoungie and Hyewon-ssi at the beach, and Wonyoungie wants me to eat with her family, so here I am. Well, now that I answered your question, what are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in Paris????" You asked her, before adding "Wonyoung mentioned how her mother's working and living here, while her father's nowhere to be found, you're not her mother are you???" "N-no, of course not. Her mother's....." Joohyun said, before she was interrupted by....

*Clank

The sound of a glass cracking, as it fell from someone's hands. You turned to the voice, and you moved your stare from the ground, where the glass cracked, all the way up as you saw the person in front of you.

"Eunbi/Y/n" The two of you whispered under your breathes, as Joohyun's breathe got stuck. "Eomma!!!" The shock that went into you as you saw Wonyoung rush towards her eomma, which is Eunbi. THE Kwon Eunbi you fell in love with, and is still probably in love with until today. Eunbi got out of her shock and went to welcome her daughter with a hug, watching as you process what is happening.

"Wonnie, who is this?" Eunbi asked, pretending to not know. "Oh! This is Y/n Samchon! I met him with Hyewon Unnie at the beach before. He's so kind, so I invited him here for dinner with us!" Wonyoung replied cheerfully. "Oh, would he be fine with it?" Eunbi asked, trying to buy a way into making sure you don't attend the dinner. "Yeah he is!" Wonyoung replied cheerfully.

Eunbi then relented, and admitted defeat before she guided all of you to their kitchen, allowing all of you to watch as she cooks Chicken Cutlet with Curry. It didn't surprise you that she cooked chicken cutlet with curry even before you saw it, as you got familiar to the smell over time, and still recognize it. After your passionate sex, comes the aftercare, and the way she does it, is by at times, cooking you food.

You sat at the very edge of the kitchen island while Wonyoung sat in between you and Irene noona, while Hyewon next to Irene, leaving the final seat empty for Eunbi. Eunbi started plating the dish, giving a plate to the four of you as well as herself, before she sat down and started eating. The dinner was enlightened with stories that Wonyoung shared about her life.

(Timeskip)

After the dinner finished, Wonyoung went on to play with Irene and Hyewon while you used the toilet. Once you left the toilet, you noticed Eunbi washing the plates all by herself, so you decide to lend her a helping hand.

"Let me." You said, earning a shriek from Eunbi, shocked from hearing your voice. Nonetheless, she stepped aside, making way for you to wash the dishes with her. The silence was felt in the room, but it wasn't the awkward silence that was caused by the two of you not being able to talk to each other. It was actually the silence the two of you gave to each other, as a way of comfort.

"Ah!" You turned your head to the scream you heard, seeing as Eunbi cut her hand, possibly from accidentally hitting the knife when she washed the knife. "Hold on." You said, spotting a handkerchief at the dinner table. You grabbed the handkerchief, before holding it against her fingers, applying the pressure. "Hold this okay?" You instructed her and she nodded, walking towards the kitchen island. You looked around to find a first-aid kit, and found it immediately. You grabbed a band-aid, walking back to Eunbi to clean up her wound and then wrapping the band-aid around her fingers. Eunbi then got up, walking towards the sink.

"Don't. Just sit down. Let me do it." You told her, referring to the dirty dishes. "No. It's my duty." Eunbi said, before you said. "It's my duty to keep you safe and healthy." You said, and you immediately regret the words. "I, I'm sorry, I should've not said that, not when you have a husband and daughter." You said, lowering your head before grabbing your wallet and keys, heading for the exit.

You immediately left the house and walk towards your car. You entered your car, turning the engine on and putting it to first gear. You lift your foot off the clutch to start driving but before you got any further...

*SHRIEK

Your foot hit the brakes HARD as Eunbi jumped in front of your car. You were surprised to see this happening, but you're also concerned of her, so you turned off the car and got off the car, walking towards Eunbi. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING????" You ask Eunbi ragefully, almost killing her. "LET ME FUCKING EXPLAIN. PLEASE. BEFORE YOU LEAVE, AGAIN!" Eunbi shouted at you, with tears on the edge of her eyes. You nodded at her words, following her inside the house and onto the back of the house, where she enters a room.

You followed her, the room having lots of windows, exposing a lot of the stars. "You can sit on the balcony." She instructed you. You walked to the balcony and took a seat. You took a blunt out of your pocket, lighting it up before you start smoking. Not long after, Eunbi then sat down next to you, with a book, a stack of envelopes and two glasses as well as a wine bottle. Eunbi poured some wine before giving the glass to you.

"Didn't know you smoke weed." Eunbi said. "I don't." You said. Eunbi then gave a book to you. "This is me. My life for the past 8 years." Eunbi said. You took the book and opened it, and the first thing you saw surprised you.

Kwon Eunbi's Diary

April 14, 2016

I'm pregnant. The last time I had sex was with Bae Y/n, which was before he left, 3 weeks ago. I don't know who to tell, what to tell, or even how to tell anyone about what happened.

April 22, 2016

I told my parents about it. They told me that I should finish school and keep the baby. They're also arranging a meeting with Y/n's parents.

May 1, 2016

I met with Y/n's family. I was almost killed by Joohyun Unnie :). They all then softened up after they found out I was pregnant, and agreed that the best thing was to keep it from Y/n.

June 2, 2016

I went to my first ObGyn meeting with Joohyun unnie. She accompanied me and started treating me as if I'm her dongsaeng.

September 11, 2016

Happy Birthday, Y/n! I hope when the time's right, we get to meet again, and you get to know about your daughter.

December 22, 2016

(*Insert baby picture)

Our daughter's born Y/n! I named her Wonyoung, because Joohyun unnie told me you want a daughter named Wonyoung.

March 30, 2017

It's been a year since I last saw you. It was supposed to be the day I confessed everything to you, from the bet, as well as what you did to me, making me fall in love with you. I love you, Bae Y/n, and I will never stop loving you, forever.

*Back to present

You closed the book, and as you closed the book, you saw a polaroid picture of you sleeping, which she must've took during your final sexcapade with her. You noticed that next to the picture lays a picture of Wonyoung, playing at a park. It surprised you as you saw a tear drop onto the cover of the book, making you wipe it immediately. You then stare up to her, watching as she sips her wine.

"Why didn't you try to reach out?" You ask her. "I can't. I just, I figured you didn't want anything to do with me, so I didn't. Today, the thing after the shoot, made everything clear for me." Eunbi said. "Eunbi. I said that because I didn't know about your status. I want us. I want us, together. I love you, Kwon Eunbi." You said, leaning in to her lips to kiss her. She replied to the kiss immediately, cupping your cheek immediately. Eunbi pulls you by your collar, pulling you down onto her. She wraps her arms around your neck and legs around your hips, allowing you to start dry-humping your hardening cock onto her crotch, getting wetter after each hump. She moves her hands onto your crotch, palming your cock through your pants, before you unbutton them.

"Stop." You told Eunbi, making her stop immediately. You gave her a sly smirk before lifting her up, carrying her into the bedroom, dropping her onto the bed. You undressed yourself, revealing your hard cock to her, making her slurp her saliva, enjoying the sight in front of her. Eunbi then undressed herself, leaving her in her lingerie.

"You have condoms?" You ask her, and she pointed to her bedside drawer. You reached over to the drawer, finding a box of condoms. You tore a pack before putting them on your cock, aligning yourself before you remove her panties. "Will it fit?" She asks you in concern, before adding "You've gotten bigger." You smirked at her words and align yourself with her pussy, before pushing in to enter her.

"AH FUCK. Gimme a few moments." Eunbi said. You rest yourself inside her for a few moments, before she gave you the go-sign to start fucking her. You moved your hands across her tits, moving her bra up, exposing her perky nipples. You started caressing them, matching your thrusts, earning various responses from her.

"Nngghh fuck, you feel so good." You groaned, enjoying her moans as well as her tightness. You leaned in to kiss her, which she replied by inserting her tongue into your mouth, while also wrapping her legs around your hips, allowing you to fuck her deeper. Your thrusts got slower, but deeper, as you try to find her g-spot. It didn't take long before you hit it, and once you did....

"FUCKKK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!" Eunbi moaned loudly as she came HARD onto your cock. You continued fucking her through her orgasm, rubbing her clit and tits aggressively while also leaving hickeys on her neck, helping her increase stimulation and prolong her orgasm. "FUCK you're so tight." You said, stimulating Eunbi into an even longer orgasm.

After she finished cumming, you pulled out of her and got up, helping her get up as well. You pushed her onto a big-ass mirror, unclasping her bra and throwing it away, before you grabbed both of her thighs, lifting her up, earning a gasp from Eunbi. You align yourself before entering her, leaning against her ears.

"I'll take you back to the night I fell in love with you." You said, as you start thrusting in and out of her at a lightning pace. Eunbi tried to steady herself by holding the mirror, but your thrusts prove it hard to make her steady herself. You started rubbing her clit and tits aggressively, helping her to get close to cumming again as this time you're also close.

"I'm close." You told her, increasing your pace even more. "I know. Inside me." Eunbi said. You nodded, setting her down and pushing her against the wall even more, thrusting and rubbing her privates aggressively as you thrust one last time, cumming inside her.

"F-F-FUCKKKK!!!!" You groaned, thrusting spurt after spurt as you finish inside Eunbi. "Fuckkk!" Eunbi groaned, feeling each spurt, as she also came, although not as hard as previously. You guided her from the mirror onto her bed, setting her down as you pulled out of her and wrapped the blankets over the two of you.

(Timeskip)

What you hoped to be the end of the night was wrong, as the two of you continued making love throughout the night. Eunbi's now on top of you, riding you slowly, but passionately, allowing you two to feel each other's privates immensely, while also adding passion by the make-out session the two of you are having. It didn't take long before she starts slowing down.

"What's wrong?" You ask Eunbi with concern. "I'm tired." She said, making you smile. "Let me take over." You told her and she nods. You move your hands onto her hips, helping her bottom out on your cock, earning a LOUD moan from her. You started moving her hip front and back, helping her as she starts grinding on your cock, with your cock inside her.

"F-Fuck that feels good. YEAH THAT'S IT!" Eunbi moaned very loudly after you brushed through her g-spot. You thrust up once, hitting her g-spot again, making her juices leak, as well as her pussy clench. "I'm close." Eunbi moaned, controlling her own pace in grinding against your cock. "I know. Let's cum together." You told her and she nods. Her grinds started getting faster and you started thrusting up a bit after each grind, and it didn't take long before the two of you climaxed again.

"AHHH FUCKKK FUCKK FUCKK!!!!" You groaned, shooting your load into her womb. "NNNGGHHH FUCKKK FUCKKK!!!" Eunbi moaned, as she also climaxed, squirting her juices onto your cock. She grabs your face, moaning into your mouth as the two of you kiss during your climax, enjoying the orgasm the two of you gave to each other.

"Marry me." Eunbi's eyes widen and got shocked after hearing what you said. "What?" Eunbi asked, afraid that she misheard your words. "Let's get married. You and me. I love you so much, and I didn't really know when I'll meet you, or if I'll ever meet you, so I bought a ring, to remind what we had. It's in my bag." You told her, and she then lift herself off your cock and got to the bedside table, grabbing your bag and going through it, finding a velvet box. Eunbi opened the box and found a ring, grabbing it before she rushed onto you again.

"Do it properly." She said, hopping onto your dick again making you groan. "Alright alright. Kwon Eunbi, will you marry me?" You ask her, and she said yes, nodding before you put the ring on her finger. The two of you shared a kiss before you pulled the covers on the two of you, this time sleeping into dreamland.

(The next morning)

Your sleep was interrupted by kisses from Eunbi, who encouraged you to shower which you did. After showering, you went to the kitchen, seeing Eunbi cook breakfast for everyone. She then called everyone over, as you sat at the table. She served the plates for everyone, leaving you last. However, after she served your plate, she pecked you on the lips, before saying "Here's your breakfast, hubby." Irene and Hyewon's jaws dropped, hearing Eunbi's words, while Wonyoung was just staring at everyone in confusion. Meanwhile, you gulped, not knowing how to explain it to everyone. However, the awkwardness was saved by Eunbi, who caressed your palm as she sat down next to you.

"Kwon Wonyoung, this is your father, Bae Y/n." She said, making Wonyoung happy. She got off her chair and rushed towards you, hugging you. You replied to the hug, but before you could say anything, Joohyun noona cleared her throat before saying "So, the 'hubby', what was that about?"

"Well, he proposed to me, and I said yes." "YOU DID WHAT????"

#kpop #kpop gg #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader #kpop imagines #eunbi smut #eunbi #kwon eunbi #izone eunbi #izone smut #smut #pure smut #unfiltered thoughts

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thisapplepielife · 1 month

Text

Written for @steddieangstyaugust.

Clean Sheets Night

Day #20: "I didn't know where else to go." | Word Count: 1374 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Slice of Life, Annoyed Steve Harrington, Oblivious Eddie Munson, Mild Angst, Happy Ending, This Is What People Mean When They Say Marriage is Hard

Steve smooths the bottom sheet, then fluffs the top one over the entire bed, walking around all the edges to make sure it's laying just so. He can smell the fresh scent of the dryer sheet clinging to the fabric as it whooshes through the air, and he loves it.

Growing up, he never had to change his own sheets, they always just showed up that way, after the housekeeper had been there for the day.

Now, he does it for himself, and enjoys it.

Then he pulls the first comforter up over the bedding, and then tops it with a second comforter, and then with a heavy quilt. Clean, warm and cozy. Blankets piled high. This is how he likes his bed to look, and feel. Not tugged and pulled and mussed up within five minutes of going to bed.

So, he relishes these nights alone. He always turns them into Clean Sheets Night.

His own private party, just for one.

He can crawl into bed and onto sheets that are fresh out of the dryer and smell fantastic. And then he can sleep in them, and in the morning, when he rolls out of bed, he can just pull up the top sheet and blankets and it'll look like it has never been slept in at all.

It's perfect. Wonderful. One of his all-time favorite solo activities.

A simple pleasure, but one nonetheless.

Steve had no idea how much he needed clean and tidy sheets on his bed until he moved in with Eddie and that concept was so rudely ripped away from him.

So, when Eddie's gone for the night, he changes the sheets and relishes the lack of chaos.

Sliding between the sheets, he turns on the television, watching as it comes to life as Letterman is getting ready to deliver his nightly monologue.

Then, the front door bangs open and closed, and before he knows it, Eddie is standing in the doorway.

"Oooh, clean sheet night," Eddie says, as he sheds his clothes next to the bed, sliding in beside him. Kicking his feet, ruffling everything immediately. Then he slides his hand across the empty space between them, squeezing a handful of Steve's ass.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asks, because Eddie was supposed to be on a plane to L.A. right now. Not here, already fucking up his clean linens.

"Flight was canceled. We'll have to try again tomorrow. So…?" Eddie asks, squeezing Steve's ass again, a clear come on.

"The sheets are clean," Steve says, because they are.

They are clean, and were, up until five seconds ago, very well made. But Eddie never cares about that, never even tries to keep from messing them up the second they're back on the bed. He wallers around, like a hog sorting out his pile of hay.

"That's part of the fun, messing them all up again," Eddie says.

"That's not fun. That's annoying," Steve states flatly.

"Having sex with me is annoying?" Eddie asks, "Gee, thanks, sweetheart."

"When my sheets are clean? Yeah, a little. You weren't even supposed to be here tonight."

"Well, excuse me. I thought my husband might be excited to see me back home unexpectedly. I didn't know where else to go. Did you want me to get a hotel room? Sleep on the floor of the airport? Shit. I didn't know coming home to you would be so controversial, Steve. Fucking hell."

Steve rubs at his forehead. He wasn't trying to start a fight. He really wasn't. Of course he wants Eddie here at home. But at the same time, he can be annoyed that his plans for the night have changed.

"Of course I want you home, Eddie, you're putting words in my mouth," Steve says, "I just. Like my clean sheets. Okay? I look forward to this. Because you are like a hog wallering around in shit."

Eddie looks at him for a split second wide-eyed, then laughs loudly, so Steve laughs, too.

Eddie raises his arm, sniffing his underarm, "I'm clean. I think. Mostly."

Steve rolls his eyes, "I don't mean dirty like that. Just. You sleep like a chaos demon and my bed suffers for it."

"Well, I'm sorry King Steve, I didn't know we were fancy over here," he says, rolling over onto his back, tugging the sheets around him, and then crossing his arms over his chest, like he's laying in a casket. Dead. Still.

Steve rolls his eyes, scooting across the space between them, throwing his arm over Eddie's stomach.

"I'll try to be more careful," Eddie says, cracking open one eye, looking over at Steve.

"I'm glad you're home, sorry for being a bitch," Steve says.

Eddie grins, closing his eyes again, "I like you bitchy. I wouldn't have you any other way."

Steve smiles, closing his eyes, cuddling up beside Eddie.

"I really didn't know you felt so strongly about the sheets," Eddie admits, maneuvering so he can wrap his arm around Steve's shoulders, squeezing.

"I do," Steve admits, "I really, really do. I don't know how you fuck them up so fast. It drives me fucking crazy."

"I get hot, okay? You've got so many blankets on the bed all the time," Eddie says.

"You're the coldest blooded person I know!" Steve scoffs, affronted by this excuse, "The extra blankets are for you."

"I sleep hot, though. I thought you wanted all these piles of blankets."

"No! They're for you," Steve insists.

"Well, maybe we could take a few off, and see if that helps me not kick everything around in the middle of the night."

"Well, okay!" Steve nearly shouts, unbelieving that they've been this out of sync with each other. Eddie is always cold. His hands are cold, his feet. Steve never thought that he wouldn't be cold when he sleeps. What the fuck? Seriously. What. The. Fuck?

They've been together for years, many, many years. This shouldn't be coming up right now.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Steve asks, as he scoots over until he can crawl out of bed, yanking the heavy quilt off the top of the bed. Then the second comforter. Leaving only one comforter and the top sheet. "That still too much? Want me to switch them?"

"That's fine, sweetheart," Eddie says, "and I never said anything because I thought this is what made you comfortable."

Steve stands at the end of the bed, hands on his hips. Well, this is some bullshit.

"I'm sorry. I've been silently plotting your demise for years, when I could have just taken some blankets off? That's bullshit."

Eddie laughs, tilting his head back against the pillow.

"How were you gonna off me?" Eddie asks.

"Lots of ways. It always ended with wrapping you up in the sheets you fucked up, though," Steve teases, and Eddie is smiling like a fucking goon.

Steve loves him.

Even if he fucks up the bedding.

Eddie swings his hips around so he can crawl out of bed, too. He pulls the sheet and comforter up, trying his best to smooth everything back out how Steve had it.

"There," Eddie says, brushing his hands together, like he's finished a big job. Steve's charmed, and yeah, he's found this pretty annoying, but at the same time? If this is how marriage is hard for them? They've gotten pretty goddamn lucky.

Steve watches to see what Eddie's next move is, now that he's tried to remake the bed.

"Now," Eddie says, "I'll tell you what. I'm gonna go take a shower. Wash the airport off me. And if you'd like to join me you can," Eddie says, reaching over and squeezing Steve's hip, "and after that, we can both crawl back into your clean sheets, and lay like corpses."

Steve grins so wide, he thinks his face might split in two, nodding, "Yes. Let's do that."

Eddie smiles, and walks towards the bathroom.

Steve looks down at the bed, reaching down to adjust the corner of the comforter that was flipped up on Eddie's side, but this time, he does it with a smile.

And then he follows Eddie to the shower that he can already hear running, his husband home, and waiting.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieangstyaugust and follow along with the fun angst! 😭

#steddieangstyaugust #stranger things #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieangstyaugust

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dollielliot · 1 month

Text

˳ ･ׅ ⠀⠀ . ﾟ* 𑙕 ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׁ𐄙transcripts from police calls about columbine

F.B.I. report excerpt about the Library 911 call:

"On April 20, 1999, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold shot and killed twelve students and one teacher at Columbine High School Littleton, Colorado. During the incident, teacher Patty Nielson placed a call to 911 Emergency. Neilson was in the library when she placed the call. The 911 operator answered the call stating "911" at 11:27:47 a.m. The phone call lasted 26 minutes. During the call, noises including gunshots, explosions, screaming, and yelling can be heard. The initial backround noises heard come from the hallway just outside of the library. Four minutes and ten seconds into the call, Harris and Klebold entered the Library and begin shooting. They left the Library eleven minutes and forty-five minutes into the call. The remaining gunshots and explosions heard on the tape occur in the Cafeteria, Science classroom area or the hallways of the school."

Eric - "Get up!"

Dylan - "GET UP!"

Eric - "Stand up right now or we'll blow your fucking heads off!"

Dylan - "Fine I'll start shooting then..." (shoots Velasquez) "Woohoo!"

Dylan - "All jocks stand up... white baseball cap"

Eric - "Pigs are here..." (begins firing out the window)

Dylan - (shoots Hall, Ireland, Steepleton) "Yahoo!"

Patti Nielson - "our father.. who art in heaven... hallowed be thy name" Dispatcher - "ma'am, you need to forget about praying right now. What's happening there?"

Nielson - "They're in here... they're killing kids... I have to go." (drops phone)

Eric - (kills Curnow) "Die! Motherfucker!"

Dylan - "WOO!"

Kasey Ruegsegger - (after being shot by Eric) "Oh!"

Eric - "Stop your bitching! It's merely a flesh wound."

Dylan - (laughing hysterically)

Eric - "peek-a-boo" (kills Bernall)

Dylan - (shoots Ireland) "Die! …..down on the floor!"

Dylan - "REB?"

Eric - "Yeah?"

Dylan - "hey, man... there's a [ n word w/ the hard r] over here."

Eric - "shoot him."

Dylan - "SHIT YEAH!"

Shoels - "no…no…no.mom!"

(shoels and kechter killed)

(C02 bomb detonates)

Valeen Schnurr - "oh my god... help me..."

Eric - "do you believe in god?"

Valeen - "no. yes..."

Dylan - "Why?"

Eric - "God is gay."

John Tomlin - "Don't... done enough?"

(shots fired)

Dylan - "You think we've done enough?" (laughing)

Eric - "nice glasses" (shots fired... sounds of a scuffle.. shots fired again, Mauser killed)

Dylan - "was he trying to jump you?"

Eric - "yeah"

(shots fired... DePooter killed)

Dylan - "Look what we have here..."

Eric - "What?"

Dylan - "just some fat fuck"

Dylan - "give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

Evan Todd - "I don't want to get into trouble."

Dylan - "Trouble! You don't know what trouble is..."

Evan Todd - "That's not what I mean... I don't have a problem with you guys..."

Dylan - "I'm going to let this fat fuck live... little fat fucking piece of shit... you can have him if you want."

Eric - "Let's go to the commons"

Dylan - "One more thing" (sound of something smashing)

Dylan - "Reb, ya ready?"

Dispatcher - "Columbine Senior High School. There's been a shooting. There's a female in the south parking lot. OK, I'm sorry, can you tell me where she is?"

Student - "She's in the south parking lot on the lower parking lot."

Dispatcher - "She's in the parking lot, the lower one?"

Student - "Right, toward the east end of that parking lot .... I just saw everyone running. I just saw the smoke."

Dispatcher - "OK. We had a report of explosions down there. Is there a car fire or anything?

Student - "People are saying there's a gun."

Dispatcher - "Do you know if anyone was carrying a weapon out there?"

Student - "No, I do not. There's like smoke going off in the parking lot right now. There are loud noises. I'm not sure exactly. A cop is pulling up."

Dispatcher - "Can you direct them?"

Student - "No, but they're going in the right direction. People are running out of the school like mad right now."

Dispatcher - "Where is the female ... is she still in that south parking lot?"

Student - "I can't see her anymore. I ran to the phone."

Dispatcher - "Can you see anything else?"

Student - "A lot of people are at the front of the parking lot and they're running out."

Dispatcher - "When the kids came out of the school, which direction were they going?"

Student - "They went down towards the street."

Dispatcher - "What part is this? Is it like the gym area, the cafeteria or just classrooms?"

Student - "They're coming from like the commons, the lunch area right now."

Dispatcher - "The commons area?

Student: Everyone's running and I'm still standing here."

Dispatcher - "You're out of the way of danger, aren't you?"

Student - "I believe so, I don't know."

Dispatcher - "Do you mind if I keep you on the phone here so you can tell me if anything else is going on there?"

Student - "I think the fire alarm is going off right now. Yeah, the fire alarm is going off."

Dispatcher - "...Shots fired at Columbine High School, 6201 South Pierce, possibly the south lower lots toward the east end. One female is down"

[unintelligible]

Dispatcher - "71"

Deputy Neil Gardner - "Shots in the building. I need somebody in the south lot with me."

Dispatcher - "MC-2's in the area."

Dispatcher - "140 enroute. 11:26" (dispatcher gives time of broadcast).

[unintelligible field radio with siren in background]

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "11:26"

[unintelligible, officers acknowledging their response]

Deputy Neil Gardner - "Several shots. Code 33."

Dispatcher - "71. Several shots fired. Columbine High School. Use caution...."

[unintelligible]

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "You were covered."

[unintelligible field unit]

Dispatcher - "Copy. Attention. All units, there's a code three on this channel. For the officers at Columbine High. Take your traffic to channel two...."

[unintelligible field unit]

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "11:27"

Officer - "41"

Dispatcher - "41"

Officer - "Yeah, the alarm's OK. Enroute down to Columbine."

Dispatcher - "11:27"

[unintelligible]

Dispatcher - "71 requested assistance at the south lower lot."

Officer - "At the lot?"

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "at the lot. That's where we had the female down.... [unintelligible] 127 [unintelligible]"

Officer - "OK ... We've got the pupils leaving the grounds."

Dispatcher - [unintelligible] "I have report of possible grenades in the school."

Officer: "147"

Dispatcher: "147"

Officer: [unintelligible] "teacher thinks somebody is in the school with a gun."

Dispatcher - "Report units of possible parties inside the school with weapons. Also we have reports from outside the school that possibly grenades are being thrown from the roof of the school."

Officer - "27. I'm set up on Pierce at the, uh, south side lot."

Dispatcher - Pierce south side of the lot.... [unintelligible]

Officer - "44. I'll be set up on the west side of the back of the school, by the ball field."

Officer - "MC-2. I've got the west side by the ball field. Supposedly they're in black trench coats."

Dispatcher - "MC-2. West side by the ball fields, parties in trench coats, possibly has a shotgun."

Officer - [unintelligible] "copy."

Officer - [unintelligible]

Dispatcher - "Last unit"

Deputy Neil Gardner - "71"

#tc community #tcc tumblr #tccblr #teeceecee #tcc fandom #truecrimecommunity #tcc columbine #columbine 1999 #eric and dylan #vodka and reb #vodka #reb #columbine massacr #dylan columbine #eric columbine

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veryberryjelly · 6 months

Text

alarm

carmen berzatto x fem!reader

lyric prompt ; 'we lost track of time again' - maroon - taylor swift

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ⚜︎ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

dating carmen could be difficult sometimes with how hard and long he worked at the restaurant, but that was definitely made up for by the times when he was here.

the times when he could knock off of work early for a movie night with you.

or the mornings he had worked into his schedule once a week to sleep in with you.

you had made a deal a few weeks ago that you just wanted one morning a week when you were both free so carmy was able to catch up on sleep and general health.

when he was working it was very obvious how drained and exhausted he could get, so this one morning was for both of your benefit.

you got to see more of your boyfriend and he got to recharge for one morning a week.

waking up before carmen on these mornings was not a difficult task.

while the first time you tried to slip out he always pulled you back against his chest, the second time you were much slicker about it.

you'd slip out of bed, shower and get dressed and then make coffee and start breakfast.

you always wanted to make these mornings as easy as possible for carmen so he could actually enjoy them rather than worrying about something you could easily do for him.

and today was no different. you slid out of carmen's arms and did a quick and quiet morning routine before sitting yourself at the kitchen counter with a coffee and some paperwork you had to get done today.

you were sat there in the morning glow of the kitchen for about an hour before you heard a rustling in the bedroom that brought your attention.

your eyes were pulled from your papers at the creaks you recognised as the noises your bed made and a smile spread across you lips as you spotted your very disheveled boyfriend emerging from the rumpled sheets.

you shuffled your papers together and slid them back inside your bag before moving across to the coffee pot to make a fresh one for both yourself and carmen.

as you were pouring two fresh mugs you felt a set of strong arms winding around your torso.

a warmth spread up your back and a weight settled on your shoulder causing a smile to bloom on your lips.

" morning, bear " you muttered quietly, halting what you were doing momentarily to lean back against his broad chest.

" morning, beautiful " he replied, his face briefly buried in the crook of your neck, pressing a short kiss to the skin before pulling back so you could continue what you were doing.

you picked up both mugs, offered one out to him and then lead him towards the couch so you could both enjoy your morning.

a morning that consisted of drinking coffee, having a bagel and promptly falling asleep tangled on the couch, your head pressed against his chest, relishing in the steady thumping of his heart.

it was only a vibration of carmen's phone underneath your stomach that woke the both of you.

you only shifted slightly when he reached to grab it for between you and then rested back as he answered.

" syd?...what..." he pulled the phone back from his face to check something on his screen " oh shit, my bad, we lost track of time again...we'll be there in 20 " he explained before hanging up the phone.

he set the phone down on the couch before his hand lifted to brush some hair from your face.

" we gotta go, baby. shouldda been down at the restaurant 10 minutes ago " he said, moving to ease you up slightly

" shit. " you replied with a laugh, sitting yourself up against the couch to gain your balance before standing. " we really need to start setting an alarm "

@con-gee

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shurisneakers · 4 months

Text

paper man

warnings: angst, no sad ending, talks of death. unedited drabble that was written in 20 minutes.

a/n: i wanted angst and couldn't find any so i did this myself. will this make it onto my masterlist? who knows. it's 11pm and i have mary by big thief playing. my cat is yelling at me and really killing the sad girl vibe i got going. why does bucky look like a used car salesman in thunderbolts. whatever. love u guys

word count: 660

“If I die tomorrow,” he starts, eyes still staring into the TV.

Your eyebrow quirks. “You're not going to die tomorrow. We're going bowling.”

“If I die tomorrow,” Bucky repeats, and you know he's not with you. He's wandering around the morning fog and thickets of his mind, arm stuck out while he meanders inside a labyrinth.

It's late. He's right on time. You know from experience that his thoughts don't belong to him after the sun sets.

“I–” he begins, and then his mouth clamps shut again.

From across the couch, you shoot him a glance that hopefully conveys understanding. Fast food wrappers litter the worn leather, hurdles between the both of you.

“I don't have a will,” he finally manages to get out.

You let out an exhale, soft.

“Let's make one now?” you offer.

Through his mist, he looks at you. Eyes the way it would be if you tried staring into the sun. Mouth tired, shoulders so low it sinks into dirt.

“I'll write it on my phone. We can do something about it in the morning,” you continue.

Bucky turns back to the TV, and the mindless chatter of late night commercials fills in the silence you leave in your wake.

He could die tomorrow. So could you. So could everyone you knew. It was an occupational hazard you thought he'd made his peace with.

Your phone lies beside you, and you're honestly a little embarrassed that your suggestion was shot down.

Most days you don't know what he needs. Admittedly, he doesn't either. Sometimes slow kisses with his back pressed up against the headboard does the trick. Other days….well, you don't know. He never lets you see those.

You can't blame him. What you both had with each other found a description in the quiet and the twilight. You hadn't even really spent the night in his room.

“I don't have anythin’ to leave,” his voice comes out like gravel, snapping you out of the pit you wanted to dig yourself. “That's the thing. If I die tomorrow, I don't have anythin' to my name. Nothin’ that matters anyway.”

His gaze shifts downward ever so slightly. If the TV wasn't illuminating his face in a pale sickly yellow, you'd see that his cheeks were burning red. His throat feels like it's folded in on itself.

“You got people to leave things for?” you ask, watching him keenly.

He catches your eye, sending a jolt through you. You shift awkwardly on the couch.

“Think so,” he says solemnly. It reads more like a question, with the way he observes you.

“Okay.” You nod. “Then we'll find you things.”

His eyebrows knit together, deepening the crease between them.

“I don't know where to start.” His words sound raw, like a croak.

You watch his head duck again. His body is stiff, and he looks like he wants to crawl out of his skin.

You look around the room, but your eyes land on the paper remains of your dinner. A thought crossed your mind, and you hesitate.

Bucky is too busy trying to see through thick trees and fog. It stretches above him so tall, taking away even what little sunlight crawls through the leaves.

The couch dips next to him and he's snapped out his labyrinth for a second.

Your hand is held out for his. It comes so naturally that he doesn't even remember stretching his palm out to meet yours.

You drop a tiny paper man onto his metal hand. It's twisted together from a napkin and its mangled limbs are uneven.

“Just a place to start,” you tell him softly.

Bucky stares at it while you inch back to your place.

While you shift the channel to something less repetitive and tedious, his fingers wrap around the origami project.

The fog fades in the light of the morning. The trees look a little less daunting.

He's got people to leave things for.

And a tiny paper man.

#bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Bucky angst #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier angst

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

one | chapter list

Finding out you're a princess isn't half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can't seem to stop flirting with you.

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au (sort of), all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance james isn't flirty this chapter i lied but he will be <3

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You're in the process of ruining your pyjama bottoms with willow charcoal when your father dies.

The charcoal is fragile, unhoused, and it snaps with too much pressure. An uneven half falls between the sheets of your sketchbook, marring the artwork it rolls over indiscriminately.

You sigh without thinking and rub your tired eyes, spreading a line of smudgy black under your brow. Squinting, you peek at the portrait you'd been drawing. A young woman with deep, dark skin, her cheek shaded by the leaves of a sycamore tree. The branches arc over her skin in shadowed lines, sunlight dappling illustrated by sparse triangles of the white paper underneath.

It had been an okay sketch. The snapped charcoal distracts from what you'd originally set out to do — a dynamic, revealing portrait — and instead replaces it with a more abstract feel.

You sigh again, this time with a melodrama you'd only ever feel comfortable displaying alone. Thankfully, that's the case more often than not. You live by yourself, no partner, no pets, nobody around to see you drop your sketchbook onto the floor beside your bed, kick out your feet toward the rug, and moan. Your socks slide against the hardwood. You kick them like a child as you slip down the side of the bed, shirt caught behind you, soft middle exposed.

You swear to yourself quietly, pressing the backs of your hands to your eyes.

A sharp trilling sound chimes. On the nightstand, your phone vibrates hard, and the water in the glass next to it crests against the sides like tiny shockwaves.

You pull it into your lap and stare at the number. It goes to voicemail, and then it rings again. Again, again, and again.

You consider turning your phone off. Five phone calls and counting indicates an emergency, but every cell begs to avoid whatever it is on the other side.

You can't avoid everything, no matter how much you want to. You answer the phone.

"Hello," you greet.

The muffled echo of a cheerful voice responds.

"Yeah, that's me… Okay. Yeah, now is fine."

More chattering. Less cheerful, diplomatic.

"My father?" you ask.

You are told two impossible truths.

"Oh," you say. The walls spin. "Right."

—

"I hate flying," Sirius mutters.

James hums, noncommittal.

"You know, my good looks are wasted if we end up lost in the middle of the Atlantic ocean."

"It's not the middle of the Atlantic ocean," Remus says, sounding about as interested in Sirius' whining as James is currently. "It's an arm."

"It's the fucking English channel," James says. It's barely the ocean. "How much do you reckon a pair of in flight headphones will cost?"

Sirius, despite his anxiety, has the bandwidth to appreciate James' bad mood. "What crawled up your arse?"

James sinks down into his seat, knees immediately pressed into the hard plastic of the chair in front, back aching and head heavy from a lack of rest he won't make up anytime soon.

"He's agitated," Remus says.

"Helpful, Moony. Super helpful."

"Fuck yourself, then," Remus says, pulling his sleep mask over his eyes and plugging in his earbuds.

The tannoy dings. The seatbelt light flashes.

A flight attendant raises his voice from the start of the aisle. "If everybody could take their seats and buckle in, we'll be taking off in less than two minutes. Please turn all electronics to aeroplane mode. Thanks so much."

"Is your phone off?" Sirius asks.

"No, I actually want us to drown in the channel, but thanks for asking."

A dark shock of curls lands against his shoulder. Sirius drapes himself unabashedly across James lap, hand on his friend's thigh, ankle crossing over ankle. Genovian through and through, Sirius doles out affection wantonly, smelling ridiculously nice as he does: a heady smell like browned sugar and citrus blossoms coalescing tickles the inside of James' nose.

"Are you still cranky that you got demoted?" Sirius asks, smooth tones pitched into bubbly baby talk.

"I didn't get demoted," James argues.

James had, in fact, been demoted.

"No, of course not. You've fallen from third guard to the Royal Prince of Genovia, may he rest in peace, to glorified babysitter of said Prince's illegitimate, forgotten child. Sounds the same to me."

"Then we agree," James says, wanting to close his eyes.

He'd pretend to sleep if he thought Sirius would believe it. Growing up together erases any semblance of privacy. Sirius knows James as James knows Sirius, and as they know Remus. Remus likely knows them all better than he'd ever admit, the youngest of the trio and the smartest, most perceptive man James has ever met.

Sirius isn't perceptive, he's vigilant. He can read even the smallest signs of unrest, and it makes him uneasy. There will likely always be a shadow cast over him from a rough childhood, and while James is in a god awful mood, he reaches out to alleviate Sirius' anxiety.

"I'm fine," James assures him, "just tired." Not mad at you goes unsaid.

"It won't be as bad as you're thinking."

"I'm fine. I'm not worried. Didn't sleep last night, and," —he grins as Sirius clasps his arm, their seats shaking underneath them, the plane beginning its race across tarmac— "some scrawny git is squeezing fuck out of my arm."

Sirius flinches away from him. "You're annoying."

James presses his shoe up to the side of Sirius' and leans back in his chair, wincing at the rattling carriage as they take off, and again when he remembers where they're going. You wait in London, though nobody in the task force assigned to your assimilation or the advisement team could come to explain how you'd ended up there. Your Genovian citizenship is unacknowledged on your passport, your birth certificate, even, and as far as Lily had been able to suss, you have little understanding of who you are.

"She sounded tired, mostly," Lily had said when pressed for details about the new princess' personality. "In shock. Slightly disbelieving, but could you believe it?"

Lily, James'... friend, and work colleague at a stretch, is an ambassador for the UK and full-time genovian resident. Along with a handful of other representatives and officials, she’d been responsible for opening the talks between Genovia and yourself. That is to say, she'd broken the news.

Surprise! Your dad just died! Double surprise, you're a princess. And, no pressure or anything, but we kind of need you to come back to Genovia to maintain the royal lineage before your grandmother abdicates the throne (unwillingly).

"Did you mention the tiara?" he'd asked Lily. The Princess' diadem, a master craftsmanship of silver-gold with a diamond the size of an apple.

"Weirdly, Potter, I didn’t mention the jewellery."

He supposes there hadn't been time to weasel that tidbit in between condolences and recruitment.

You haven't promised anything in ways of returning to Genova or taking up the mantle. James understands. If he were in your shoes, he likely would've laughed down the line and blocked the number. You’d shown incredible promise as a future leader, agreeing to meet with Lily and her team at the Genovian embassy. Then, a day later, they'd modified the plan and asked if you'd be okay meeting somewhere more private.

You'd said yes.

As someone who may be very involved in your bodily safety in the near future, James thinks you're an idiot. Somebody calls you, claiming that you're a princess, though nobody has ever bothered telling you this before because you were never heir apparent, and that they'll tell you more should you deign to meet with them in a place with meagre surveillance, and you say yes to this?

How you've survived as long as you have is a mystery.

He hopes you won't make his job difficult. Isn't that what everyone hopes? He feels guilty for judging you without meeting you, promising in his head to be nicer to you in actuality. You're probably grieving and definitely confused. He shouldn't be worrying about his job.

Redetermined, James lets the anxiety of his new assignment water down.

Sirius is thinking along the same lines: how easy will you make his particular occupation. "Bets are on. Scruffy or sweet?"

"Huh?" James asks, pretending he doesn't understand in hopes of rectifying Sirius' attitude.

"Slovenly or love-nly?"

"I'm sure she's fine."

"You should hope so, you'll be looking at the back of her head for a while."

James rolls his eyes.

"I'll manage, pretty or not."

His confidence draws Sirius' curiosity. "How're you so sure?" Sirius asks, chin-lifted, light eyes narrowed in bemusement. His expression dances with the surety of somebody well-raised. He could wear a potato sack and his regal air would endeavour, deep-seeded and neat like the trim stitching of his expensive clothes.

"Look at my face right now. Do I seem affected?"

Sirius laughs much too loudly at the implication. "Don't act like I'm not handsome, Prongs."

"Years of practice." James schools his features into an unaffected mask. "Uggos have no effect on me."

"How else would you look in the mirror?" Sirius drawls.

When Remus wakes afterward, he finds they haven't quite killed each other, though James has threatened it twice. With one hand, Black.

"Far are we?" he asks.

Sleep has made little difference to him. He’s the kind of fatigued that can't be improved with an afternoon nap, and the kind of unwell that can't be fixed. Medicated, diminished, but never fully healed. He rolls his neck and makes three separate, unfortunate sounds, stretching his tight hands out flat over his thighs.

"Landing any minute now is my guess," Sirius answers. "How are you feeling?"

He waves his hand around, tired eyes locking onto James' lasting frown. "Sorry for leaving you alone with him."

Sirius gasps his indignation. The three of them all smile in tandem, James in a rush to add to the joke.

"You should be, fucker, I don't care how sick you are. You're sick in the mind if you think it's acceptable to-"

"You're sick for acting like I'm some misbehaved child you've been pandering to. You're bullies, and as soon as we're in the airport I'm ditching you both in favour of a Great British Burger King."

"One," James says, still smiling widely, "I have your per diem, so unless you brought your wallet, you're sunk." Sirius frowns. "Two, I'd love it if you would repeat that little moniker you gave me a minute before he woke up. Seriously. Shed some light on the real bully."

Sirius pulls his sunglasses from his jacket pocket and places them over the bridge of his nose delicately. "Unnecessary."

"I wouldn't mind Burger King," Remus says.

"We have to be quick," James says.

Sirius is so incensed he actually spits a bit as he scathes, "You fuckers. I want food and it's lorded over my head, but Moons wants something and your only limitation is how fast he can eat it?"

He's not truly as angry as he appears. He's joking, and he's fallen into a familiarity that can only come with years of ragging on one another relentlessly. Still Remus pats his tight shoulder and smiles.

"I'm a slow chewer."

"He's a slow chewer, Sirius. Have some compassion."

“How fast could he chew missing a few teeth, I wonder?” Sirius asks.

James gasps, delighted at his friend's casual threat. Remus does a better job at hiding his amusement, tamping back a smile as he reaches over the armrest between their seats and slapping a hand into Sirius’ seatbelt. The mechanism unlatches, the ‘Fasten Your Seatbelts’ sign flashes, and a shaming beeping sound rings overhead.

Sirius squeaks.

—

What do you wear to meet a British ambassador? A Genovian ambassador? Any sort of diplomat? You aren't too sure what an ambassador even is, only that every word Lily Evans has said to you sounds shockingly official.

"Your citizenship has been reinstated whether you choose to move forward or not. We want to stress that you have choices," Lily says. Call me Lily, please. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"We also want to stress," says Emmeline, the Genovian ambassador, "that your presence in Genovia is greatly desired. For the funeral."

"The funeral," you say softly.

"It will be a… very, very big event. We don't have to talk about all of the logistics now. Or ever, if you're not interested."

Emmeline clears her throat. "The family would appreciate it."

The family. The royal family. The Queen of Genovia, your grandmother, and her… unfortunate younger sister, who's behaviour (according to the Internet) has been less than ideal. Her sisters son, who might take the throne if you refuse it. Or, so you've come to understand.

All this lineage and politics has been hard to navigate by yourself, though rest assured, you've been assigned two personal assistants of a sort. One for appearances of the physical, and one for appearances of the mind.

A stylist and a tutor.

"And a bodyguard," Lily says, "your safety is the most important thing."

You grip the end of your dress in your hands and squeeze the skirts tightly. Safety? You'd rather not embarrass yourself by asking.

"We actually want you to meet them now," Emmeline says.

"Whenever they show up," Lily adds. She sounds embarrassed but unsurprised, like this has happened before.

There's a small silence. You pull your bag into your lap and squeeze it, hoping it hides the curve of your stomach. You aren't sure what you're supposed to wear to occasions like this, and so you'd worn the nicest thing you owned, a pretty, simplistic dress ruched under the chest, and a cardigan overtop.

You catch yourself frowning and quirk your lips up into a practised smile. Gentle, amicable, the kind you'd offer a passing stranger.

"Well," Lily says, filling the awkwardness, "I'm sure they'll come around soon. Maybe we should talk about inheritance."

"Legally, you're entitled to an inheritance. You could think of it like a pension, an allowance you'd be given from the age of eighteen. You've already passed that, and so you'll be given the years upto, and then the rest in annual increments," Emmeline says. "There's a team of people who can and will explain it better at a later date, or whenever you want to discuss it, once you've agreed to a paternity test."

"A paternity test?" you ask.

You feel rather useless. All you've done is ask for explanations since you sat down, your head a spinning mill. Information goes around and around with no time to sink in.

Emmeline opens her mouth to continue and is interrupted by three sharp knocks.

"Come in," Lily calls. She turns her gaze to you, orange hair moving over her shoulder in a silken sheet, and raises her eyebrows.

You don't know what it means.

First to enter the room is a modestly dressed man with straight, sandy hair. It's long enough to peek out from under his ears, where it curls. He steps into the light, illuminating a shock of shiny scars clawed over the bridge of his nose and teasing up into one thick eyebrow.

"Sorry," he says, not quietly but certainly not loudly. "We had trouble finding the room."

Behind him immediately stands a man with dark hair to his shoulders, white but tanned. He wears slacks, in which a shirt has been tucked on one side and not the other, a purposeful dishevelment.

"And the building," adds the second.

Last to enter is the biggest of the three. You'd hazard a guess that he's six foot or taller, not the tallest of his companions but the most imposing, with a monotone outfit of pristine blacks that he fills too well, his shirt clinging to the muscle underneath it. His skin is a warm brown that soaks up the big light overhead and shines golden, his hair black and thick, laying in mussed ringlets stroked back from his face.

He is the most handsome person you've ever seen in real life. It startles you. Worse, when he meets your eyes.

You smile carefully. He smiles back.

Lily stands to gesture toward each man in turn. The first, "Remus Lupin," she says, "your tutor on all things Genovia." The second, "Sirius Black, stylist and your guide on media presence."

The third.

"James Potter," Lily says, not looking at him. "Bodyguard. James will be with you for the foreseeable future, even if you decide on– Well. You should get to know one another, at any rate." You must wear your worries on your face, as she continues, "You're in safe hands. James was third in command in the protection of His Highness."

"Hello," you say.

Sirius' eyes widen in tandem with his smile. "Hello."

"It's nice to meet you. We're sorry for your loss," Remus says.

"No," you say, head tilted toward your shoulder as you frown at James sympathetically, "I should be sorry, you actually knew him. I can't imagine how this feels for you."

"Thank you. But don't be," James says. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Princess."

You look to Emmeline, almost like you're waiting for her to correct him.

She smiles at you hopefully. "Shall we talk arrangements for your departure?"

—

James is trying not to look at you too much, though if he is he can write it off as purely protective. You're sitting in your seat like you're worried about touching a seat mate who doesn't exist, arms wrapped around your middle and face pointed to the floor.

"I'll rent a car," he says.

You curl into yourself a little more. "What for?"

"It's much safer."

"I don't want you to– I mean, you aren't a chauffer."

"I'm not." He bends at the knees to speak directly to you. "There are seven other people on this bus. One is elderly. Three are younger than sixteen. All seven could potentially harm you."

You look to the left without turning your head, toward the sound of young laughter. He'd bet money on your thoughts. Even the children?

"The driver could have an aneurysm. He could be paid off. He could be carrying a concealed weapon." James smiles at you placatingly. "Understand? If I drive, the potential danger goes down to one."

"Me?"

"No. Me." He tries very hard not to wink and look like a dickhead. "But I'm not going to hurt you. Not really my perogative."

"Oh, good."

James recall what Lily had said, rightfully. You and James will be in each other's company for the foreseeable future, and while he has a job to do, there's room for friendliness. Sort of.

He splits his attention between you and the front of the bus, where a small family carts a pushchair.

"What do you do?" he asks.

He knows you attend classes for a degree equivalent at your local college. He knows you're a waitress. He knows you moved to central London when you were very young, and that your estranged mother had been the cause of all this confusion. He asks you because he wants to know how you'll frame it. In your own eyes, what is your life?

"I'm a waitress."

He nods. "Local?"

"Mm. At a pub called The Morgan."

"You have a shift today?"

"Not today. I took the day off." You stand up and click the STOP call button on the rail James is holding. Your arm brushes against his. "It's this stop."

James trails behind you, off of the bus and straight into a busy street.

"How far is it to your house?" he asks, loud to be heard over the hubbub and the roadworks.

"Not long. Are you okay to walk?"

James finds himself oddly charmed by your question. "I'm just fine."

You squeeze through the crowded pavements lining the street, folded in, keeping your arms close, and you apologise every time you touch someone, even if it's the other person's fault. James keeps close to your back, moving to your side when he worries you might sprain your neck trying to check that you're following. He had some height on you, which is a good thing for security purposes — he can see uninterrupted over the top of your head when he stands this close.

The day is cool, the last dregs of an end of summer heat lingering in the air and encouraged by so many bodies in one place. James wonders if you're too warm, dressed as you are in tights, but the thought fades when you trip.

James grabs the top of your arm, fingers sliding between your arm and your chest. Closer than he wants to be, crueller than he means to be as he keeps you steady.

To his surprise, you laugh. A really nice sound, sudden but sweet.

"Sorry, Princess," he says.

"You saved me," you say, a hint of breathlessness in your tone. "Thank you. My flat's in the next building over."

"Brilliant." His bag is fucking heavy, a weight between his shoulders that aches when he lifts his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as it sets. You've got a long, long night ahead of doing nothing. "What's your address?"

You tell it to him. "Why?"

"For the rest of your security detail."

He slows as you come to the main door of your building. It's quieter here, the loudest sounds a symphony of barking dogs, car engines revving, and the jangle of your keys as you unlock the door and bump it with your hip.

"More people?" you ask. "Is that really necessary?"

"You always do that?"

"It gets stuck," you explain.

He hums. "It's necessary. The media's been paid handsomely to keep our operation to themselves for now, but there's always pressure to be the first to break a story."

"And I'm the story?" you ask, nodding toward the stairs in the centre of the room.

He steps over a bundle of scattered letters. The building is mostly clean, but mail bulges from cubbies, and an old mattress has been left propped against a wall.

"You're the story," he says, head up to analyse the atrium. There's a skylight spotted with green moss above.

You take the stairs up to the first floor, where your flat is the first he comes across. That increases your risk of a break in, rapists or robbers. He asks you to wait at the door while he clears each room, knowing it's an unecessary precaution but taking it anyway. It's not worth saving the half a minute it costs on the off-chance you've been infiltrated.

He snorts at his own train of thought and returns to you, where you're sliding a special locking mechanism between the door latch and the frame. You shake the lock.

"Did you get that recently?"

You look up at him and smile. "Since I moved in. I'm first on the floor. Don't want to get murdered in my sleep."

"Good girl," he says absentmindedly, crossing the room to secure your window.

He moves into your room again and secures the larger window over your bed. Then, because he's awful and curious, he catalogues your things.

"You're an artist," he says, head listed toward the doorway.

You stop by the dresser, hastily stuffing clothes left aside back into the top drawer. "Not– not really."

The room is a crammed collection of things. It's clear you've attempted to keep it clean. You were doomed to fail, an outpouring of your heart stuffed into a matchbox; books, sketchbooks, notebooks are stacked against the leftmost wall between your bed and your dresser, while paints and pencils take up two thirds of your desk. A small sketchbook rests closed in the mess of your unmade bed, dark bed sheets disrupted by a pair of white pyjamas discarded at the end. Soot or something similar stains the fabric.

He averts his gaze from your dirty hamper and faces you.

"At 8PM, one of my team will swap duty with me. His name is Frank, and I've worked with him before, but if you aren't comfortable with anything he does while I'm not working, you can tell me. If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, you can tell Lily. You can tell me, of course," he amends. "I can take the couch."

"You sleep at eight?"

"I sleep at nine."

"You don't mind sleeping on the couch?"

"Not at all."

You walk to your dresser and pull open the bottom drawer. Inside is a layer of linens, and you pull them out neatly.

"You don't have to, uh, put on a show for me," you say with a wince.

"Sorry?"

"I'm not a princess. I'm not the princess."

"You don't think so?"

You look sweet, kneeling on the floor, hair in pretty disarray from the walk home. You move it out of your face and offer a folded square to him with both hands.

"It's a misunderstanding. But…" You take a pillowcase into your hand and stand up, closing the drawer with your ankle. "Even if I were, I don't think you need to be so formal, you know?"

You move past him, a wave of nice smells.

"It's my job."

Again, you surprise him by laughing, climbing on top of your unmade sheets to grab one of your pillows. "Right," you say, stripping it of its pillowcase and shaking it into a new one. The tip of your tongue makes a brief appearance as you plump up the corners.

You climb off of the bed. "Here," you say, taking the sheet he's holding to press the pillow into his hands.

"Oh," he says, looking down at the pillowcase. It's covered in small pink flowers. "I don't need this."

"My settee isn't comfortable."

"Half of my job is being able to sleep anywhere."

You smile at him. His words don't discourage you, and he stands in the doorway between your bedroom and your living room as you lay down an old quilt over the settee and tuck a sheet around it and under the sofa cushions.

"I know it's strange, but you could take my bed, if you wanted to. You're so tall, I don't think-"

James cuts you off, not unkindly. "Thank you, but I couldn't." He lets the side of his chest rest against the doorway, arms crossed. Your back is straight, tense with anxiety. "I have something for you."

You blink at him. "For me?"

He grins, his first proper smile all day, and pulls his bag onto the freshly made settee to unzip the front compartment. He pulls out a small jewellery box, pulling the lid off to hold between his arm and chest.

The tennis bracelet inside is thin but strong, made up of gold-silver links with sapphire-coloured gemstone. He assumes them to be real sapphire or something similar, like blue-hued ruby.

"This is a panic button."

You seem more anxious than when he'd pulled out the box.

"Don't worry about losing it. I'm sure the Genovian coffers will recover."

"It's not that. Do you think it will fit?" you ask.

He hadn't thought about it. Luckily, Mary had.

"There are spare links hidden under the velvet."

James puts the box on your coffee table and clicks the links into place, handling the bracelet with less care than he ought to. Firmly snapped into place, he offers the lengthened bracelet to you unlatched.

"Here," he says, pointing toward one link in particular. "If you squeeze this tightly, the heat sensor will alert me."

"It won't feel the heat of my wrist?"

"It will. It's sophisticated, it'll disregard anything that isn't a sudden spike. That's your panic button. You squeeze that–" He pinches it in demonstration. The small radio clipped discreetly to his shoulder starts to beep, a circling alarm. He removes his fingers from the bracelet and it stops. "Okay?"

"I haven't even passed the paternity test yet."

"My being here indicates that you're of special interest. We don't know if you're the Princess for certain, and neither do the newspapers. You're still in danger either way."

You press your lips together and hold out your wrist.

James steps close to you, enough to see details and lines he's missed. The longer he stays in your company, the more endeared he is to your shy smile, and your kindness, and he thinks you're the type of person who's outsides reflect the insides. You smile.

Either side of your wrist glows with heat as he drapes the bracelet over your skin and clicks it closed, wary of pinching you.

The room is quiet. The clock over your small kitchen table ticks.

"There," James murmurs, taking back his hands.

"Thank you."

He disregards it completely. "No worries."

His informality gets you, and you smile, your own first and proper smile since you'd been introduced.

By the time Frank arrives for turnover, James is confident that his assignment to your protection won't be nearly as awful as he'd thought. You'd insisted on making him something to eat, which he'd been sincerely grateful for, as a man can't run on Burger King alone, and then you'd practically showered him in an awkward but entirely genuine hospitality, offering your bathroom and all its contents, every blanket you owned, the TV remote, and a tin of biscuits.

He introduces you to Frank, and for an hour you make yourself busy in the kitchen, cleaning dishes you'd refused his help with and wiping down the counters.

He senses your unease at being outnumbered in your own home. Unfortunately, there isn't much he can do to make you feel better, besides appoint Frank to door duty and try to offer some words of comfort.

James tries not to look as imposing as he feels, clearing his throat to draw your attention as you leave the kitchenette.

"Listen," he says softly, a mirror of you now that you're both changed into lounge clothes and damp-haired from the shower, "I want to reassure you— I'm here to protect you from any and every threat. I know this is unconventional, but I promise to do my best to make this easy for you."

You look down at your trainer socks. "Sorry."

"Can you do me a favour?"

"Yeah, of course," you say, raising your chin.

"No more apologies. This is hard, and I know that, you don't have to say sorry for anything. I'll promise you whatever you need me to if that will make you feel more comfortable."

Princess or no princess, you're confused, and you're unhappy in your own home. James wouldn't want that for anybody.

"Do you think someone's going to kill me?" you ask.

James softens. "No. Nobody is going to kill you." His smile melds slowly to mischief, dark lashes kissing in the corners of his eyes as he squints. "I'm a brilliant bodyguard, okay? Don't doubt my skills. And Frank's alright."

You laugh under your breath, relieved. "I'm not doubting your skills."

"Good. I'm not just a pretty face, Princess."

You sober at the title. The flicker of camaraderie between you fizzles, and you shake it off.

"Can I get you anything?" you ask.

He hopes that in a month, or a year, when you're living the high life in Genovia with a hundred serfs and lavish goods beyond your wildest dreams, you'll keep your earnest smile, and your good heart. He's seen exactly what court politics can do to timid young women like you.

"No," he says, matching your volume, "nothing."

"Okay. You can wake me if you need anything."

He absolutely won't. "Thank you... Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

You disappear behind your bedroom door. James lays down over the small sofa, alarm set for a dry-eyed 4:30AM, and listens to your flat as it cools. You close the blinds, sharpen a pencil, and for a period of time, he's lulled by the mild shushing of a pencil over paper.

He falls asleep. He must. A silence settles, thick and uninterrupted as poured molasses.

A splintering crash pulls him back to consciousness, and every nerve-ending sings as a weight falls to the floor. A thump sounds from behind your closed door. James practically leaps over the settee's arm to your door, Frank hot on his heels.

He throws open the door, braced for impact.

You aren't anywhere to be seen.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thanks for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this first part, and if you did and you have the time please consider reblogging, it makes a difference! plus i'd love to know what u think or what you'd love to see in future<3

the fics title is adapted from a line in piedra del sol by octavio paz

#james potter fic #james potter #marauders era #marauders #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #the marauders x reader #the marauders fanfic #james potter x fem!reader

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kanmom51 · 3 months

Text

A little math in the morning

You know how it is when you're at work and you don't really feel like being at work cause all you are thinking of is Jikook (obsessed much? Oh, most definitely!!)?

This is one of those mornings.

And I figured, if I'm going down this rabbit hole, well, why not ask you to join?

And who doesn't love to do some math in the morning, right?

So yeah, math.

But wait a sec.

This math is the good kind.

The kind that tells us just how much Jikook we'll be getting.

The kind that makes us realize that we are going to be getting more Jikook than we have ever had before. More interactions. Longer moments. Like a full on show.

But just how much of it? Well, this is where the math comes in.

Now that the intro and explanations are done, let's get going:

We talked about the meaning of the 8's in my previous post, so I will forgo that in this one.

What I will be doing here is a little counting. You know. To put things into perspective. Because I feel like sometimes we lose that.

8 episodes of Jikook bliss is what we will be getting.

A show that will most likely be 20 to 25 minutes long. This is a starting assumption. I will be grateful for this, and every single minute added to that will be a blessing.

But if we take 20-25 minute episodes, that will give us:

20*8=160

25*8=200

Between 160 to 200 minutes.

And even if we cut out 10% of that as whatever (intro, outro, anything that doesn't have them in it), we will get:

144 to 180 minutes of Jikook.

Do you get that?

Do you register that?

A minimum of: 144 minutes.

That is over 2 hours of Jikook!!!!!

I don't think we can even imagine what that means.

We, who have been living on little few seconds to couple of minute increments of those two. The longest interaction we got was the live they did back in 2020 and that was them being totally vigilant and aware of the live camera (and yet...).

As much as the editing will probably be brutal, cause put those two together and more so add some alcohol into the bidding (we know there was alcohol) and you will get wild wild Jikookery that may end with bed nets being torn to pieces. But as brutal as it may be and as much as they might want to water it down (which I'm kind of wondering if they even are wanting to do this at this point - long train of thoughts going on here in that matter), you just can't do that with over 2 hours of exclusively Jikook content.

You just can't.

Boy, we are going to be rolling in it. This is going to sustain us for years to come. RB left behind. Hickey forgotten. TTU - what's that even? 'Are you sure' is going to be IT. That reference point. Can you even process it? I'm still trying to.

You don't need to have them making out on camera to recognize a certain type of dynamic. Just saying.

8 EPISODES

144 minutes

MINIMUM!!!!!

Over 2 hours!!!

AT MINIMUM!!!!

Of Jikook just having pure fun.

With each other.

TOGETHER

ALONE

JUST THE 2 OF THEM

Swallow that HATERS!!!!

Or just choke on it. Who cares? I don't.

Happy dance incoming.

#Jikook #Kookmin #minkook #Jungkook #JK #Jimin #JM #Jikook Are you sure

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cheriladycl01 · 9 months

Text

My love, is mine all mine - Max Verstappen x Norris! Reader x Charles Leclerc Part 2

Plot: Norris' Twin sister is also a driver in the 2021 line up and is in her rookie era. Not only do the commentators struggle to now talk about the pair in the race, but they also struggle to talk about talent. What happens when two drivers find her eye-catching.

After you'd spent the week at home you travelled to France, you asked McLaren to set you in a different hotel from the other drivers. You found one that was cheaper and still within a decent distance from the race track.

Your sisters in your groupchat that didn't have your bothers in, had texted you telling you Lando was getting worried you wouldn't be showing up for this race. It was Thursday and normally drivers would come to the paddock for media duties but when he came it was just him doing stuff for the F1 YouTube and being pestered by the McLaren social media teams for content.

"Zac where is she, you guys wont tell me and I'm worried she wont be here for practice which starts in 20 minutes!" Lando asks Zac whose in sat in hospitality having a pre-race coffee.

"As far as I'm aware, she's already in her car getting ready for the practice session ... so I'd get yourself down there now so you can get a good time Lando" he smiles, Lando rushed to the garage Zac slowly trailing behind him, wanting to get to the garage to get a set of headphones and sit with the race engineers.

"Y/N can you hear?" you hear through your in ears.

"Loud and clear, let me know when i can leave the pit" you say shuffling down in your seat to test the pedals.

"Nico, the pedals are feeling a little stiff, its like there's no traction" you complain as your directed out onto the pit lane.

"Okay, just do a slow lap, testing the breaks and make sure the throttle is all okay. Then we'll see if we need to bring the car in quickly before a flying lap.

As you'd gone round on a normal lap, it was determined that there was an issue with the breaks, the minute you'd tried to do the flying lap your car had major under steer. You'd managed to keep it out the gravel but you had spun out. You were called back to the pits and only placed P16.

You slammed your wheel onto the bonnet, and the engineers all immediately started to work on your car. You talked with them helping them out.

You spied Lando's car in the corner of your eyes being pulled into his half of the garage.

"Y/N hey" he says jumping out the car pulling him helmet off.

"Kinda busy trying to fix this trash can of a car right now Lando, later" you say not even sparing him a glance. Grumbles come from the mechanics making you whisper an apology as they jokingly scowl at you.

Was it petty that you weren't speaking to your brother, yes.

Was it petty that you were trying to get him to have a spoon of his own medicine for the way he'd treated you in Azerbaijan, yes.

Were you going to stop right now? Nope!

"Oh, erm okay well I'm going to go grab something to eat before the next practice" he smiles.

"Cool" you nod a smile, before kneeling down pointing something out to the mechanic that didn't look quite right.

"I'll be back in a bit, will the car be ready for FP2?" you ask.

"Should be, just needs some greasing and tightening. Trust us you'll be flying out there in no time!" the head mechanic says and you smile nodding softly before walking out towards the rest of the motorhomes.

You walked past, shyly waving to the drivers she encountered. Sky had seen her but were already busy interviewing Christian Horner and Toto Wolff who were currently talking about the championship this year and Mercedes rough start to the season in Bahrain.

"Y/N?" a voice asks from a table outside the Red Bull hospitality.

"Oh! Max, hey how have you been" you exclaim crossing over the Sky cameras who unbeknownst to you followed you for later review. You pull him into a hug, happy to finally see someone on the grid who hadn't upset you in the last few weeks.

"I'm good but i think the actual question is, are you okay?" he asks rubbing up and down your arm.

"Yeah, I just don't really know how to even talk to Lando about all of this, he's never not been there for an achievement of mine up until now. The team's strategy was shit, and I got us more points passing Lando, i was on the fresher tires, I had DRS i don't understand why they wouldn't want me to overtake" you complain, you really genuinely couldn't understand it.

It wasn't like this in Formula 2.

"You'll come to learn, that people don't like being my team-mate because im golden boy. I was the hot shot that Horner took a gamble on and he won jackpot. It's never easy being the second driver on a team to a golden boy" he advises, making you look down tears in your eyes.

Is that all Zac thought of you? The secondary to your golden boy hot shot brother.

Well that just wouldn't fly, you'll show them that your made of more and that you are worthy of sharing the seat with your brother.

"You know, keep it up Schat, Horner's been keeping an eye on you. So have Mercedes and Ferrari" Max whispers leaning in and holding your waist. You gasp as he leans back looking at you nodding before wandering off and into the Red Bull motorhome.

You check your phone for the time seeing that you really should make your way back to the McLaren garage to see if your car is ready.

"We didn't talk" you hear from behind you and a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you back to them.

Charles

"I don't want to talk to you Charles" you grunt shrugging his arm off.

"Why not?" he asks looking over you.

"I think you know why, just concentrate on FP2 Charles" you say, for the first time you see a sort of desperation in his eyes. It's almost as if he came here with the intention to say something to you, but he also doesn't want to admit it.

"Y/N... wait" he starts again but you continue walking. You manage to get back to the motorhome and see Lando sat in the hospitality, he was with his personal trainer Jon and then the performance engineer Jarv.

You walk past them and here Jarv say something to your brother.

"Go follow her, you need to sort this out before the race"

"She doesn't want to talk to me, I've tried" he groans as you wait behind the door just in earshot of them.

"You call earlier in the garage trying? Jheez man" Jon laughs before getting up and discarding of his food tray.

"Your right!" Lando sighs before jumping up to come and find you. You start to walk away so it didn't look like you were listening in to their conversation.

"Y/N, please can we talk" Lando says stopping you right by the coffee cart.

"Mmmmm"

"Look, I was terrible the other day. Your my twin and we've shared everything together. I- I'm sorry i wasn't there to celebrate with you. It's just annoying when Jon's telling me that you've been told not to go for the overtake and then you do. I see now that you taking over worked better for the team but i cant help but be upset" he tries but you look at him in shock, why on earth was he making this moment, this apology about him and how he was affected.

"How are you still making this about you?" you scoff.

"What what do you mean, I'm explaining why i wasn't there..."

"By saying that I've upset you, when I'm the person you've affected. Do you even know what they have been saying about me in articles because of this whole thing with you and Charles? I'm being told I'm a shit driver and i shouldn't have my seat and that my own brother and multiple other drivers agree... I'm being told im a danger to the sport and that I wont have a seat come next year!" you sigh, knowing that he had a right to be upset about you overtaking him, but it shouldn't be at you.

"I'm sorry, I know I ruined it. I should've celebrated with you! Its my fault" he says, before pulling you into a hug. You hug him back, your shoulders sagging into it. Your brother was always your other half, you guys were two peas in a pod. It broke your heart when he left you behind in F2 before going to F1 in 2019. So this year, being the first year that you were back driving with your brother it was special for you.

"It's not like I wont have other podiums to celebrate this year" you jab him making him laugh.

"Oh yeah, not if i have anything to say about it!" he jokes as you both start walking back to the garage.

"I'm still upset though, just so you know. But I forgive you" you smile as you both get back to the cars.

"Hey, how's the car looking?" you ask the people around your car.

"You'll be good to go, breaks are sorted and its looking good!"

And that was true, you came P3 in FP2.

You didn't have a good night sleep, thinking about Charles and how he's tried to talk to you today, how you'd made up with Lando, and you kept asking yourself if it was too quick. But what was in your mind the most was Max and what he'd told you and how he'd been so nice to you over the last few months.

FP3 the next day was worse and you came P10, which then set the mood for Qualifying, where you finished P10 which would mean that your are in the middle for starting the next day.

Lando was in P8 meaning he was directly in front of you, you were hoping you could get a slipstream from him, and overtake Fernando on the start.

By the end of the French Grand Prix you and your brother both simultaneously moved up 4 places ending with him in P5 and you in P6, Zac was happy as you'd managed to stir Ferrari and get ahead both of them.

You were walking to your car, when you notice a sleek Ferrari next to your McLaren and a familiar man leaning against it.

"Charles I really cant deal with this, the interviews have tired me out. I'll see you in Styria!" you say, clicking the keys to open your car.

"Y/N please I need to apologize" he says grabbing at you wrist again turning you round.

"Charles, look. I forgave Lando for not being at my podium and yelling at me, but you actively told me I didn't deserve my seat when i've had to work twice as hard for it than anyone on the grid. So to be told that its undeserved is horrible because this is all I've ever wanted..." you say tears brimming your eyes.

"I'm sorry I'm so so sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I'll think I'll regret this forever if I don't do this" he says before grabbing your cheeks with his hands, one sliding down to your neck before leaning in and placing his lips against yours.

You kiss back, it's more out of anger, you weren't sure why you actually kissed him back. After the initial shock you pulled away, your hand slipping in between you too to push him away.

"Charles what the hell" you shout, looking at him eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, but the reason I get so annoyed with you is because I've had a crush on you for years. At first I hated that you always were better than me, I got more aggressive and you were the safer driver back then, so you'd give me room let me pass. I knew I'd never have a chance with you, getting you attention was easier when I teased you, but i guess as i got older i got more sour at you, and how everyone seemed to adore you and grab your attention apart from me" he reasons now holding her wrist again.

"Charles, you cant, you cant do that" you cry.

"What, I cant admit what I've been feeling for you for years. Y/N please" he begs, the puppy eyes looking down at you as you shrunk yourself.

"What's going on over here" Max asks coming over looking between you and Charles, you turn away so that he doesn't see the tears in your eyes, wiping them with the sleeve of your orange McLaren rain jacket.

"Nothing Max" you say before turning back round smiling at the both of them.

"Come on Y/N. I know you better than that" Max said but you decided to stay silent.

"Is he bothering you again? Charles, just leave her the fuck alone. We spoke about this after Azerbaijan..." Max says pushing him away from you.

"Max don't! Its fine I promise, I'll see you both in Austria okay?" you say getting into the car. You sit there for a second, contemplating what the hell just happened before you realize both the drivers are still stood there watching you.

What. The. Hell.

A/N: I don't know if i like this, it feels like I made her and Lando make up too quickly, and Charles felt kinda quick. But for future ideas in this series, her and Lando making up now means room for more angst in the future *wink,wink*

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #lando norris imagine #lando norris #f1 fandom #max verstappen fanfic

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disgustingtwitches · 2 months

Text

**MDNI**

"The closest to heaven we'll ever get"

Saw a lot of stuff about Simon helping out a s*x worker. Anyways, it reminded me of a personal experience I had so... Here I am 😃

5.5k words

*This is kind of Simon needing company and being a weirdo who needs constant validation.

Not gonna lie, it gets blasphemous at the end!

I always played around with the idea of being an escort. I was offered to do things while working in the strip club, but I always turned it down. I was spending every dollar I made because I could always make more, right? But when I broke up with my ex and realized I didn't have the credit or rental history to get my own place, I started panicking. The only option was to put down at least three months rent cash upfront, to even be considered. Suddenly, money was drying up at the club for me, my regulars were being whisked away by girls who would do more for less. I couldn't really get mad, it's just a part of the game really. So I knew what needed to be done.

I hit up one of my girlfriends and told her that I needed the extra cash and what I was willing to do for it. She helped me set up a website, took professional photos of me, made me business cards. The whole nine yards. Now all I had to do was wait. About a week in, I finally get my first client. It was awkward and surprisingly, both of our first times in this situation. I was sent back home in a black car and a few hundred bucks richer for just 30 minutes of my time. I felt a rush I never felt before.

As the months rolled by, the money came. Luxury was the new standard for me. Designer everything, nice dinners, even nicer dates. To my surprise a majority of my clientele were, at most, 10 years older than me, and even more surprisingly, good looking. Finance bros, guys with daddy's money, or just men who had the money to spare. They always talked about how it was more fun and less work to hire me than get a girlfriend. To get a pretty girl in their arm to parade around that wouldn't bicker and give them a hard time at the end of the night. No feelings attached, just company and good sex.

So here I am Saturday night. Instead of going out to the club like a normal woman my age in Manhattan should be doing. I am in my hotel. Waiting for a call or text from someone. Anybody. My hair in rollers, makeup half done. Just waiting. My phone lights up, a text coming in:

Hi, Gia. Was interested in spending an hour with you tonight, 11pm.

I smiled to myself. Finally, someone who reads my ad properly. Follows the instructions on what to text to me. Straight to the point.

Wonderful, just need a picture of your ID or passport.

I reply. Always a rule my girlfriend drilled into my head. Safety first. If they don't do it, then what could they be planning? Anything goes bad and all you have is a name that couldn't even be real. Any client worth your time understands your safety is a priority. So this was my way of feeling safer. A moment passes before my phone dings again.

A picture of a passport, full name and age. Along with a picture. He's cute. A little older than what I usually get but I'm not complaining. I quickly look him up, nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

Great. Thank you, Simon. I'll send an address for you to send a car at 10:20. Reach out to you then❤️

Before I start to get ready he texts,

Wear something casual.

Not an odd request. Actually most clients prefer it. Want more of a girlfriend vibe rather than an escort. I finished getting ready, helping myself to a glass of wine. Playing my usual bad bitch songs, it helped me turn into the woman I needed to be- from me to Gia.

10:25 rolls around. I get a screenshot of the Uber from him. 5 minutes out. I grab my purse and strut out of my hotel, to a nearby park. Never give your real address. Always make sure you're not being followed.

A black SUV pulls up, I slide in. Exchange pleasantries with the driver and I'm off. Headed to midtown. I share my location with a friend and how long I should be gone. My phone goes off.

Walk into the building and head to the elevators on the left. 36th floor. Apt. 4A.

I nod to myself before shooting a text of confirmation.

Got it. See you soon ;)

I pull up to the building, it's huge. Nicer than most places I've been. He must have some serious cash. I walk into the building and follow the directions he gave me. A little adrenaline rushes through me as I walk up to the door, always did when meeting someone new. I knock. He almost immediately opens the door, as if he was standing in front of it. Waiting.

Simon!

I say with a wide smile. He steps aside as I walk in, looking around. Nice place. Really nice place. Ceiling to floor windows, minimalist decor, the lovely smell of something masculine and expensive. He looks me up and down as I turn to him.

You look just like your pictures.

His voice is deep, alluring, unreadable. Sends a chill up my thighs that shoots straight to my core.

You do too.

I reply playfully. A small twitch plays at the corner of his mouth before disappearing. His face inscrutable. I shimmy off my coat before he takes it, hanging it up in a closet near the entrance. I wait for him to move. He stands, hands in his pockets, studying me. An awkward minute passes before he walks to the living room. I follow.

Really nice place you got here.

I try to make the moment more comfortable.

Hm.

He responds. He wasn't like the other men I've seen before. They are sociable, or at least try to be. I take a seat on the couch next to him, our knees barely touching.

Money's there.

He gestures to an envelope on the table. I nod, grabbing it.

Do you mind if I...?

I ask, opening it up. He nods and stands to pour himself a drink. My eyes widen. This is more than my usual rate. Much more. I'm quiet, trying not to show my shock.

Was hoping to do an overnight, if that's alright.

It was less of a question and more of a statement from him. It was more than enough for a night. I nodded.

Of course, I do wish you would've told me; I would've packed a bag.

I smiled, putting the envelope down on the table. I grab my phone and update my friend on how long I'd be gone for. I put away the phone quickly and look up at him. God, was he hot. And the way he carried himself made him even hotter, so nonchalant. He shrugged, sipping his drink before sitting next to me again, some space between us.

How long you been doing this?

He stares at me, gaze so intense I squirm a little.

Just a few months.

We're quiet again. Usually I try to carry a conversation if the other party can't hold one, but he makes me nervous. I talk again, asking mundane questions. It's like pulling teeth trying to have small talk with him. Maybe he's just not much of a talker.

I scoot closer to him, our knees barely touching. He puts his drink down, and rests his arms on the back of the couch. I lean in closer to him, resting my hand on his thigh before kissing his lips. He kisses back softly. We exchange light, almost timid kisses for awhile. He finally moves. A hand reaching up to grab at my hair, gently pulling. I moan faintly and that seems to set him off. He grabs me by the throat, not hard, just enough to stand me up and guide me to his bedroom; our kisses getting more intense. We strip each other of our clothes. I unbuckle his pants and pull them down, it feels like I'm opening a gift on Christmas. He's big. I smile up at him. He just looks down vacantly. I pull down his boxers and his erection springs up, tip drooling. He opens a drawer next to the bed, pulling out a condom and rolling it on himself.

Lay back.

He commands. I obey, opening my legs. I've done this so many times before, but this time it's different. As unceremoniously as he's treating this, I can't be more excited. His body is amazing, tattoos and scars just adding to the mysterious aura. His natural scent drives me wild. I look up to him as he crawls over me, lining himself up with me. He gives a couple lazy slaps on my slick. I take a sharp breath. He watches as he slides himself in, I tense up. Most guys are well... average. And he's well... much more than that.

Relax.

He huffs. Sliding himself in more, not giving me any time to adjust. I grip the bedsheets, clenching my jaw. I stare up at him, he doesn't even look at me. His face emotionless as he watches himself slide in and out. I try to unclench, opening myself up more to him.

Mhm...

He grunts. My nipples harden at his voice. I moan as he slams into my cervix repeatedly. It makes him shoot his eyes up at me, glaring into mine. His eyes dark pools, intense. He roughly hooks his arms under my knees, pushing them up to my chest. He digs even deeper into me as I whimper. He takes quick, shallow breaths.

You're so deep.

I say panting, the breath getting knocked out of me. I reach out to touch his muscular arms. He grunts and pounds harder into me. I throw my head back, whining. Trying to not wince in pain. He slows for a moment, pulling back, keeping my legs on his shoulders as he slides in and out. My breasts bounce up and down with each thrust.

You're hot.

A hint of emotion in his voice, he reaches down to knead my chest. My face gets hot. I tighten around him.

Fuck...

He makes a sound that almost resembles a moan. I smile up at him, almost proud of making him show any emotion. He looks down at me, a flicker in his eyes, a small smirk on his face that leaves as quickly as it came. He parts my legs and rubs at my clit in rough circles. I squirm under him.

Say my name.

He orders. His strokes picking up as I get used to him.

Simon~

As soon as his name leaves my lips, a deep rumble from his chest fills my ears. He leans over me, arms on either side of my head. I reach up to run my hands up and down the back of his neck.

Say you love me.

His request takes me aback. I pull him closer, my lips just under his ear.

I love you~

He immediately tenses up and takes a heavy breath. I could feel him twitch inside me as he finishes. He pulls away quickly, going to the bathroom to throw out the condom and clean up. He brings back a wet towel, wiping me down.

What's your name?

His tone as flat as ever.

Gia.

I responded. I know what he's actually asking me. Never, ever tell a trick your real name. Hell, he shouldn't even know your real age.

You know what I mean.

He glares at me. I shift awkwardly. Don't do it. He doesn't say a word, just stares in a way that makes me uncomfortable. Why should he know your real name anyways? I tell him my name. Stupid. Fucking dumbass. I kick myself. He nods and slides into some sweats, throwing me his shirt.

Let's watch something.

I throw on his shirt. Now this is what I'm used to. Being a temporary girlfriend. Pretending to be affectionate. Giving much needed companionship. He splays out on the couch as I lay on top of him. He turns on the TV, resting a hand on my ass and squeezing it. Maybe this is why he hires girls. Because of how distant he is. The man can't even hold a conversation. He flicks on some show he was in the middle of, a business dramedy that I couldn't care less about. I rest my head on his chest and he runs his fingers through my hair. We're like this for a while, quiet.

Tell me you love me.

He says dryly, looking down at me. I look up and kiss him.

I love you, Simon.

He gets hard immediately, rubbing himself on me. He gets up, lifting me up effortlessly, and throws me on the bed. He lays on top of me, pinning me down onto the bed. Kissing me much more passionately this time, like he was trying to taste every inch of my mouth.

Keep saying it.

His voice gruff. He moves his kisses down to my neck, pawing at my bust.

I love you, Simon.

I moan. I wanted him so badly. I don't care how I got him, I just wanted to take him. Something about him made me go crazy, deep inside. He yanks up the shirt I was wearing, moving his kisses more and more south.

You fuck other people raw?

I shake my head. I might've been a whore, but I wasn't reckless.

Never.

He nods.

Can I eat you out?

I look down at him. Something about seeing him between my legs makes me wanna say yes. The way his eyes looks almost as if he's pleading, desperate. No way. Never do that.

Yes.

I allow him to keep going. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I allowing this? Before I can think more, he plunges his tongue between my lips. Lapping up desperately, burying his face into me. I roll my eyes back, running my fingers through his hair.

I love you, Simon.

I gasp. It's the only thing he wanted me to say. I saw something in him, the way he reacted when I said that, it made me want to stay in his place forever. To never leave. Make him happy. It's just the good head talking, you'll snap back to your senses afterwards. He moans so quietly I can barely hear it. Barely. My legs on his shoulders, his arms wrapped around my thighs. Digging fingers into the soft flesh. He sucks on my nub repeatedly. It's a tortuously delicious feeling. I grip his hair a little.

I love you, Simon.

I look down at him, watching him devour me. He looks up at me, his eyes showing an emotion I can't decipher. He moves one hand down to slide two fingers into me.

I love you, Simon.

I moan, throwing my head back and smiling.

Hmm...

He mumbled into my heat. Pumping in and out before bending his fingers in a way that presses against my sweet spot. I hiss, pleasure flashing through me like a strobe light. I'm dripping wet. He pulls his fingers out and plunges his tongue into my entrance, trying to suck out every drop of my juices.

You taste good.

Voice as flat as ever, as if he isn't lost in between my folds. He drags his tongue up between my lips, from my entrance to my nub again. He slips his fingers in again, pressing up against my sweet spot repeatedly. I get lost in the feeling. God I could stay like this forever. He looks up at me, like he's looking for validation.

I love you, Simon~

I slip out between heavy breaths. He picks up the pace of his fingers and tongue. My face gets hot as I get closer, grip his hair a little harder. He goes even faster, harder, almost feverant. I roll my eyes back, panting. I whimper before crying out, tightening around his fingers in a vice grip.

I love you, Simon~

I force the words from my throat as I spasm under him. He continues, seemingly determined to draw another climax out of me. I mewled, trying to push his head away. He was unmoving for an unbearable moment. The only sounds were my pants and his slurping.

I love you, Simon.

I wailed, almost hoping it'll make him stop. He does thankfully. He pulls away, tearing off his sweats, beating off himself. Staring at me, his gaze is intense as ever. He grabs me by the thighs and drags me into his lap. He continues to stroke himself, staring into my wet core as if he was hypnotized by it.

Can I...

He starts, almost knowing he shouldn't ask the question.

Can I fuck you raw?

His voice is uncharacteristically soft and unsure. I blink at him, mind racing. ABORT! ABORT! THIS IS LIKE RULE #1 IN HOE-ING!!! He looked so delicious from this angle, his eyes still glued on my wetness. ARE YOU INSANE?? NO!! His throbbing, beautiful dick is twitching.

...yes.

I nod. You're the dumbest person on the planet. I insult myself a million different ways in my head. A brief moment of regret is replaced with pleasure as he slides his tip teasingly in and out of me. His jaw clenches, chest rising and falling faster. His voice cracks as a moan escapes him, his eyebrows furrow.

I love you, Simon.

I stare at him, eyes half lidded. The smallest smile spreads across his face, still looking at himself entering me. He inches his way in. Pulling in and out, going deeper each time. I squeeze him, make him bite his lip.

That's good.

He stated, voice quavering. He clears his throat before grabbing one leg and lifting it to my chest, digging deep into me. I take a sharp breath in. He hovers over me, arms on either side of my head again. He slides in and out, slowly at first then picking up to a punishing pace. I whimper and wiggle under him. He grabs my face, forcing me to look into his eyes that bore into mine.

I love you, Simon.

I stare right back at him, passion shooting right out of my eyes. His eyes flutter for a moment before blinking back into his cold, unnerving self. He continues to dig himself into me, slamming and grinding himself into the deepest parts of me. It's a painfully addicting feeling. I take his hand and press it up against my lower stomach so he can feel how much he fills me. He clenches his jaw so hard, it looks like his head could pop.

I love you, Simon.

I whisper. He drops down on top of me, snaking his arms around and behind my back to grab my ass. His mouth right next to my ear, I can hear his fast and shallow breaths. Little groans that slip out every now and then. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him tighter.

I love you, Simon.

I hear him groan under me as I said it again. He goes faster than before, pretty much jackhammering me into the mattress. My mouth is agape and head thrown back. Only grunts escape my throat as I get fucked senseless.

Mhm...like that?

His words bounce around in my empty head. I replay it in my head over and over until I clench around him, he doesn't stop though. It only seems to spur him on even more. His warm breath tickling my ear as it gets more ragged.

Keep saying it.

He demands through gritted teeth.

Fuck... I love you, Simon.

I squeak out the words. He huffs and continues to rampage my body.

Can I come inside you?

He asks- No, begs. No use in turning back now. Just the thought made me close again.

Yes.

I nod and he breathes harder and harder until he pleads in a strained voice,

Say it.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

I love you, Simon~

He spills inside me. His stammered breaths and moans driving me crazy. The feeling of him pumping into me driving me over the edge. I pull him closer, practically squeezing him.

I love you, Simon.

I tenderly kiss the top of his head as he nuzzles into my neck.

How often do you do this?

My head clears, a wave of regret coming over me.

Never. I never even hired anyone before you.

He says in a way so sincere I honestly believe him. How do you know when a trick is lying? Their mouth is open. Rules. Rules to live by, to be able to survive doing what I do. Rules. They all meant nothing as soon as I laid eyes on him. Somehow saw this coming a mile away in the back of my head. He pulled away from my grasp, disappointment flooded me. He leaned back, opening my legs: watching both of our cum dripping out of me.

Say it.

His eyes so focused, as if he were trying to take a picture with his mind; so he would never forget this moment.

I love you, Simon.

I say with a tender smile. His dick jumps. Good lord is this man insatiable. He stands up and does the same routine as before, cleaning himself up and then me. He hands me his shirt:

Here.

I throw it on and he leads me to the bathroom, grabbing me by the shoulders and making me face the mirror. He gently pushes my back, I lean my elbows on the countertop. I stand on the balls of my feet, trying to get my hips to meet his. As I look in the mirror, his face looks almost tender watching me sway my hips.

I love you, Simon~

I sing softly. He bites his lip, entering me again. God, I never get used to the feeling. He grabs my hips and pulls me onto him, he bottoms me out. Groaning louder this time, he pulls my hair back so I'm looking directly at the mirror, locking eyes with him.

S'it, pretty girl...

A corner of his mouth upturned just enough to know he's enjoying himself. His words make me flutter around him. He groans and starts to pound into me. The bathroom is filled with the duet of our breaths and groans. He pulls my hair so my back is pressed against his chest. He rests a hand on my throat, squeezing just enough. Moves his lips to my neck, still sliding in and out of me.

You love me? Huh?

He grunts, warm breath on the pulse of my neck.

I love you. So much.

I moaned. I repeated the phrase so many times, it started coming out of my mouth naturally. He moved his hand from my hair to my lower stomach, pressing against it so he could feel himself hitting my walls.

You love this dick, yeah? Say it.

His voice getting more demanding and urgent. I nod and look at him through the mirror, smiling.

I love it, I love this dick so much, Simon~

He nips at my neck as he continues to fuck me. His nips turn into bites. Bites that definitely leave marks. I didn't care, that didn't matter right now.

You're never fucking leaving, you know that?

A threat that sounded like heaven to me. He could keep me chained to the bed and I wouldn't care, just as long as he kept fucking me like this. I giggled with excitement.

You like that, hm?

He smiles against my skin before continuing to lick and bite my neck.

I love it~

I truly did. It felt heavenly. Better than anyone I've ever had. Ever. Something felt so familiar about his touch. As if I belonged there.

I love you, Simon~

At this point I feel like I'm reciting a prayer, the words flowing out of me like a stream. I was melting in his arms.

Turn around, wanna see that pretty face.

I did so eagerly as he lifted me up on the counter and slid inside me. I smirked up at him. He, as always, was watching himself impale me.

Looks so pretty...

He seemingly mumbled to himself. He leaned down and pressed our foreheads together, a firm hand on the back of my head. Hitting a spot so deep inside me I never knew I had. We were like this for a long minute, sloppy sounds of our sex bouncing off the walls.

I love you, Simon.

I stared into his eyes. They seem to soften for a moment before he tightened the grip on the back of my neck. A huff, and then he came undone. He stayed inside me until he was soft. He pulls out and pushes his fingers into my cunt, stuffing his seed back into me.

Hm.

He grunts in a way that sounds like approval before helping me off the counter. He leads me to bed and slips under the covers.

In my arms.

Commanding as he usually does. I press my head against his chest, his heart beating hard and fast. He wraps an arm around me, his touch much gentler than before. I fall asleep. Not too sure if he does too.

Morning comes and I'm woken up by the sun shining in my face. Sitting up, I'm in his bed, still wearing his shirt. Alone. I walk out to the living room and see him setting up breakfast on the coffee table.

You made this?

I question, surprised.

Ordered it. Good morning.

He turns to me, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looks at me expectantly. I blink at him.

Good morning.

I say. He looks at me as if he was anticipating something else. I think for a moment before suddenly remembering.

I love you, Simon.

He steps to the side, inviting me to sit on the couch. I help myself to a seat and look at the plate in front of me. It's simple, French toast and eggs. I help myself.

Are you gonna eat anything?

I look at him quizzically. He shakes his head, staring like always. We're silent as I finish my plate. I grab my phone and check the time. Almost time for me to leave.

Can I book you for longer?

His voice is gruff. An underlying tone, pleading?

It'll be expensive.

I didn't want to say that. Wanted to say I'll stay as long as he likes. But I already made too many mistakes. Gotta get back on track.

I don't care.

Of course he didn't. He could probably buy me out for the rest of my life if he wanted to. He pulled out his phone, asking for my personal number so he could send the money straight to my bank account. Hesitantly I gave it to him. He probably could find out that stuff if he wanted to anyways. My phone dings, I check my bank app. My eyes pop out of my head. I look up at him bewildered.

How long would that get me?

He asks, as if he didn't send me an ungodly amount of money.

It's enough for a whole week...

Shock still overwhelming me.

You wanna stay that long?

He doesn't really ask. He knows I'll say yes. Doesn't even wait for my answer.

I'll let you get your things.

He throws some of his clothes my way and sends me back in a car to the hotel. I grab my bags and checkout. Is this really happening? A call from my girlfriend. I tell her about his extension. She says something about making sure he's not a serial killer. We laugh, tells me to have fun, don't fall in love. I scoff as if that was the stupidest idea I've heard. As soon as I know it I'm back at his place, he's grabbing bags from me, setting them to the side. Turning to me and running a hand up the side of my waist.

I love you, Simon.

We spend the whole week tangled up in each other. Taking a break before I say those four words and he has me pinned against a wall or over a dresser or kitchen counter. Any flat surface, really.

It's Saturday night and we're showering, cleaning off sweat and other bodily fluids from each other. His touch is so gentle, handling me like I was a piece of china. He liked me. It was obvious. Seemed like the only way he knew how to show it was by fucking me, though. I liked him too. Maybe not to the extent he did.

Seemed like he found something he needed for a long time. He was hungry. Famished. He couldn't just let go of me. He's not satiated yet. Don't know if he'll ever be. It was a looming feeling. Dark and heavy. A little scary. But it made me feel more desired than I've ever been before. And not just a carnal desire. It made me feel coveted.

We're laid up on his couch. Watching the show I didn't care for before, a little more invested. My phone lights up, buzzing. The name of a regular of mine across the screen in big bold letters. This is usually the time of the month he calls to set up a date. A reminder that this is all temporary. I let it go to voicemail. He tenses up. Jealousy and disappointment radiating off him.

How much for the whole month?

He doesn't even let me think of an answer before speaking again.

How much to make you quit for good?

I'm a little shook, sure I've heard it a dozen times before. Always said in jest. But he's serious. The few words he said, he always seemed to mean. No need to waste his breath beating around the bush. My heart races. I can feel his pound against mine. A number doesn't come to my head.

Let's just see how this goes.

He doesn't like that answer. He wants something solid. A promise that I'll never leave. More than a promise. But that's as good as he can get right now. There's a tense silence between us.

I love you, Simon.

The only thing I can think of saying right now. He takes hold of me, climbing into the bed and sits me in his lap. His back against the headboard.

C'mon love.

He says frigid. An underlying tone of disappointment and hurt. I slide myself down on him, a little more adjusted to his size now. He wraps strong arms around my waist, pulling me so close it seems like he wants to coalesce into my very being.

Give me a number.

A demand that seems more like a plea. We hold each other. Unmoving as he is still buried deep inside me.

Maybe it is a little toxic to spiral into the addiction to fast money. Maybe I'm a little sick of pretending to be the perfect woman. Maybe it is a little exhausting to be a fantasy and nothing more. Maybe it is a little lonely when it's just me lying in bed, when I have to comfort others. Where's my comfort in all of this? Where's my happiness in all of this? No more fake smiles. No more fake orgasms. No more fake feelings. I don't care if he's lying. I want to indulge in delusion. Even for a moment.

Ok.

I give in. He leans over, placing me on my back before adjusting himself on top of me. Touches my face, his showing an emotion that is genuine and staggering. Devotion? It feels like it.

I could almost cry, the way he takes me like I'm his. The way he talks to me like I'm not someone he hired. That didn't matter anymore. I wasn't an escort to him. I was his girl. The sex was different. Transcendant. Divine. Did I know I wanted to be saved? Of course I didn't know; for the life of sin and suffering is simply a thing to toil in until you are shown salvation. Every time he came, he baptized me. I was born again in his eyes, I was perfect and clean. Absolved of my sins.

He looked at me with so much adoration. I looked up at him, much in the same way Magdalene did to her Redeemer. He had turned a prostitute into a Saint. The unshakeable feeling of deliverance washed over as he touched me, no longer a leper. I was saved by him. His body. His sweat. His seed. Akin to taking Communion. The closest to heaven we'll ever get.

#cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #longer reads

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