#but please share !!! i regret making this post so late but it is better than not posting at all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

always-andromeda · 9 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 ୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⟡ Frankie Morales x F!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⟡ 3,038

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⟡ After recruiting you to be his plus one for yet another wedding, Frankie can't help but ruminate on and regret the last one he brought you to.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ⟡ Hey, Lolabee!! I'm super excited to finally share that I'm your secret Valentine!! I apologize in advance for posting this so late in the game; exam week has been super hectic. That being said, I decided to give myself a little bit of a challenge and write something for Frankie for the first time ever. I should preface this by saying that when I read your prompt for rom-com vibes, I immediately began filing through all of my favorite rom-coms. And since my current favorite is Plus One, this fic is very much inspired by it!! Happy late Valentine's Day!! (dt: @thelightsandtheroses) (divider credits: @cafekitsune)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⟡ fluff with little bits of angst (regardless, minors, please do not interact), no physical description given to the reader except for the fact that she wears makeup, mentions of alcohol and references to the reader drinking, the slightest references to Frankie's past, this fic is almost entirely removed from the movie's canon (these characters are basically my paper dolls that I'm making do cute things<3), idiots in love, they tease each other, they go to a wedding, misunderstandings occur, but it all works out <3

“You’re bringing your own tissues this time, right?” Frankie called from where he sat at the edge of the bed. He’d slept in far worse places. But he could already feel new knots forming on top of the old ones in his back. Needless to say, he wasn’t looking forward to spending yet another night attempting to sleep on the dense hotel room mattress.

You replied from the bathroom, “Oh, yeah, don’t worry. I’m prepared.”

“You better be. Because you’re not using my tie to blow your nose again.”

If you were in the room, Frankie could’ve practically felt your glare burning a hole through him. But instead he only heard the clear exasperation in your tone when you answered, “I did not use your tie to blow my nose.”

“Might as well have…” he mumbled. Santi’s wedding had claimed that casualty. By the end of the ceremony you’d soaked his tie in tears and covered it with a fine layer of translucent powder from dabbing your face off. And as much as he teased, he hadn’t minded it. He hadn’t minded it any more than he’d minded the distant friends and relatives who’d assumed that you were his girlfriend. Which…wasn’t an insulting assumption by any means.

The next time – at Benny’s wedding – Frankie brought you tissues. He didn’t like to think about Benny’s wedding. But if there was one thing he was happy about, it was that he’d thought far enough ahead to bring them for you. He was glad to see your smile. To feel your arms wrap around him as you thanked him and told him he was such a sweetheart. He was also grateful for the Hawaiian sun; for the developing sunburn that had prevented you from seeing how much that one nickname made his cheeks flush in that moment.

Your head popped out of the bathroom doorway, your makeup only half done, to aim a smartass smile at him with your lined lips. “Hey, I like to think of it as a gift. You should too.”

“Your ability to cry at the drop of a hat?”

“You're damn right,” you said indignantly.

Frankie sighed, pushing his hair back for about the dozenth time. He then laid back on the bed and stared up at the popcorn ceiling. “If we’re lucky, this is the first and last time you’ll need to worry about packing some to begin with. Will’s the last stop on the wedding train.”

The thought almost made him misty eyed. Within a few hours, he’d be the last single man in his crew. The last one awake at the sleepover. Eyes so wide they were practically ablaze staring through the uncertainty of night. Unable to find sleep. Unable to believe he’d ever find it to begin with.

Your voice cut through his trance. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Maybe next year we’ll get an invite for Tom’s second wedding,” you teased.

Frankie rolled his eyes. At least he could take some sort of comfort in that. Redfly had tried out the whole settling down thing. And it just didn’t work. Frankie wished his buddies well, but he couldn’t help but feel deep down that they’d never be made for domesticity. They weren’t made for teary-eyed speeches and destination weddings.

“Don’t count on it,” he drawled.

“Don’t count on it,” you mimicked Frankie’s slow, gruff voice which earned a small laugh from him. “I’ll tell you what, I bet you that Ben’s best man speech isn’t going to be nearly as good as Will’s was.”

He attempted to recall what Will had even said only a few months prior. It had to have been good, the man was a public speaker, for Christ’s sake. He guessed, “That one was long, right?”

“Yeah…don’t you remember it? Frankie, were you even there?”

“I was there alright.” He laughed to mask the wince he wanted to let out. Then he cleared his throat, throwing out another vague guess, “But I seem to remember that by the end of it, he needed some damn tissues too.”

“If you had a shithead little brother who managed to get married before he could experience massive head trauma, you’d probably get a little choked up too.” You added more to yourself than to him, “God, Frankie, how do you forget a speech like that? It was fucking beautiful.”

There was a very high likelihood that he had forgotten. Frankie spent almost every day following that entire night trying to forget it. And he wondered how in the world you remembered it either considering how much you’d drank.

If you could remember what Will had said…you should’ve remembered what you’d said too, right? You, standing in the bathroom and observing yourself in the mirror as you combed through your lashes to separate them, had to have known what you said to him that night. Because he knew it. Whether he liked it or not, he had that particular speech memorized with the way it ran through his head.

Frankie had known you were in a tough spot. Hell, it was part of the reason why he’d brought you along; part of the reason why Benny had insisted Frankie take you.

She just got broken up with, Frankie had tried to reason.

Benny had merely smirked, Which is the exact reason why you should invite her out. Give her a chance to get fucked up. Spend the night with one of the bachelors. It’s the quintessential wedding experience.

Frankie couldn’t have even pretended to mask his disgust at the idea. But he couldn’t lie…bringing you along again sounded leagues above going alone.

And now, sometimes he wished he had toughed it out instead.

No matter how much he tried to forget, the details always flashed through his mind. The way your fingers ran through his hair. How your touch managed to stay so soft despite how completely out of it you were. But that’s how you’d always been with him. Even at his absolute worst points when he was a less than ideal man, you found some shred of decency inside him that you never hesitated to cradle and nurture.

Maybe that’s what had made those tangles form in his stomach; the idea that he was taking advantage of that kindness.

Because that wasn’t…you. You wouldn’t have done that in your right mind. If your boyfriend hadn’t just broken up with you. If you hadn’t just found out that the entire time Nick had been cheating on you with that woman from accounting in his office. If you hadn’t drank way too much. None of this would be happening if you weren’t at your absolute lowest.

So he wiped the slate clean. It’d almost always been easy to do that. To simply forget. But he should’ve known better by now. Those things he somehow managed to lock up always found a way to ooze out of the cracks in his facade.

There were a few times Frankie thought you might crack during the ceremony. Especially when Will read out his vows, because of course the guy went the extra mile, delivering them with that stern reverence that made him the kind of guy you wanted on your team.

But you didn’t cry. This time…you grabbed his hand. It almost didn’t occur to him that you had until Will kissed his now wife and you squeezed Frankie’s hand in excitement. For a moment, he wondered if you’d managed to get a drink in before the ceremony. You couldn’t have; the bar wasn’t supposed to open until afterwards. He knew it couldn’t have been an alcohol induced action but he was still afraid to acknowledge it.

So he kept as still as possible. Even when the ceremony ended and you began to pull him around the venue. Though he knew his hand was getting clammier with every minute that passed, he let you drag him around the little circles of friends and family of the bride and groom. He had checked out enough that he didn’t quite realize what he’d gotten himself into until you were bringing him to the dance floor and positioning his hands on your hips.

Only when you let go of his hand and placed your own on his shoulders did it strike him how similar this felt to that night at Benny’s wedding.

You spoke like you were treading thin ice. “That speech was…surprisingly alright.”

“And you didn’t cry,” he remarked equally as carefully.

“I didn’t cry!” you exclaimed.

“It would’ve been fine if you had.”

You shook your head, “That wasn’t the kind of speech you cry at. It was simple. Sweet. I liked it. Who would’ve thought Benny’d have it in him, right?”

“So what do you do for that kind of speech?” Frankie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A polite clap. Maybe a cheer.”

“A cheer? Maybe you should’ve brought your pom poms instead of tissues.”

The way you scrunched up your nose into a playful grimace tugged at his heartstrings. Then you laughed, “Shut up.” God, he loved when you and him fell into this groove.

So he continued with the bit, “You should get some for Tom’s wedding. The guy deserves a whole damn squad if he gets all tied up again.”

“Thought you said I shouldn’t count on it?”

“If you’re gonna count on anyone getting married soon, it’s better if it was him.” Frankie clicked his tongue, “Not like I’m going off the market anytime soon.”

“Oh, Frankie, stop it.” Your smile dropped ever so slightly, eyebrows turned inward as you gazed at him with something akin to pity or sympathy; he wasn’t sure which was worse. “You have no idea what the future could bring.”

“Not a wedding, that’s for damn sure.”

Your expression only intensified. He recognized it well after the amount of times you’d talked him off a ledge. “You can’t just discount the possibility entirely,” you argued.

“I can and I will,” he said stubbornly.

You were quiet for a few seconds, “So you’re telling me you’ve never thought about it? I mean…who would your best man be?”

“I’m not answering that.”

Your lip quirks to the side of your face as you feign a contemplative look before concluding, “Probably Santi.”

“Look at you, you did it for me,” Frankie deadpanned.

“I could plan the whole damn thing for you, don’t test me.”

“Why’s that?”

This time you pressed your lips together. And Frankie swears he felt you stumble over your own feet ever so slightly; like he’d caught you off guard with the query. “Oh, you know…weddings usually aren’t those things that people are eager to plan.”

“But why would you specifically be planning it? Unless you’re–”

A beat passes before you break out into an incredulous grin. “You’d want me to marry you and plan our wedding? That’s a tall order. I’m afraid you’ll have to pick one or the other, sorry.”

Frankie chuckles. He let the remark pass. He always enjoyed this back and forth. How you and him had always been able to bounce off of each other. It was hard enough keeping up with some of the guys. But keeping up with women was a whole different story. He always seemed to be a few steps behind most of them. For some reason, your pace was just perfect. Your humor, your timing, it all clicked with his personality.

Just like you were prone to doing, you broke the silence with an awkward laugh and big eyes staring right into his. “So…which one do you pick?”

He almost didn’t catch the question; almost didn’t want to. “Hm?”

“Would you rather marry me or have me plan your wedding?” you clarify.

“Come on, you know I’m not answering that.”

And the tide shifted once more. Just as quick as you were to smile, your expression melted into one of muted mortification. Like you’d just tilted your hand a little too far

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled to yourself. Your hands slid off his shoulders and you wiped them off on your dress before wrapping them around yourself. That was when you retreated, leaving him standing there looking like more of a fool than he ever thought he had.

He stared after you for a few seconds, struggling to process what had just happened when it finally registered.

Soon he was following after you. How you knew to navigate the venue so quickly, he couldn’t be bothered to wonder. All he knew by the time he got to the lobby of the wedding hall was that something was wrong.

He spotted you rushing down the sidewalk as he stepped outside. In all his exasperation, all he could get out was, “Hey, what the fuck?”

The cool night air of the fall settled in and billowed around him like a curse. He wasn’t quite sure if the deep chill that ran down his spine was from the weather or the sight of you turning around, eyes already wet with tears that you were desperately trying to blink away.

Your voice came out hoarse as you shouted back, “You’re asking me what the fuck? No, Frankie, what the fuck is up with you? I kissed you…God…how many months ago? And you don’t say a fucking word. I keep talking about Benny’s wedding and you keep acting like none of it fucking happened.”

Frankie threw his hands up. “You were drunk. I don’t even remember how many fucking drinks you had.”

“I had a couple virgin cocktails,” you scoffed. The admittance wasn’t stubborn. But it did come with a tone of disdain, “I wasn’t drunk.”

“You wouldn’t–” he stopped himself. You wouldn’t have done any of that unless you were drunk.

“You acted like you were drunk.”

You shook your head. “I was having fun. I was with you and I was having fun, you dumbass.” Then you sighed, gaze darting towards the street nervously. “And I woke up the morning after and I thought that…I thought you would’ve at least said something. I thought you would’ve asked me how I felt. I thought you would’ve had the decency to at least check in. But you were just…you were completely fine.”

“I wasn’t fine…”

“And now you want to crack jokes about marrying me?”

Frankie wagged a finger in your direction, an almost childish defense. “You brought that shit up first.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Frankie, that doesn’t matter,” you muttered before raising your voice once more. “What matters is that I kissed you. I looked into your eyes and told you I fucking loved you and you said nothing.”

Hearing your voice say it again, even filled with such frustration, such anguish, he could help the way something fluttered in his chest. And even still, he shoved it down deeper than he ever had before.

“Because I wasn’t going to hurt you the way that Nick did.” He watched your gaze soften. “It would’ve killed me to hurt you like that.”

With the sounds of the city passing you both by, Frankie caught one of the worst sights possible. The tear that rolled down your cheek. And then the few more that followed, all shamelessly continuing their desolate stride down your neck. How you unclenched your jaw and unfolded all of the pain you’d kept since that summer into a few words. “You hurt me worse than Nick ever did.”

Your whole being compacted in on itself once more, recoiling from the vulnerable admission with a breathless conclusion. “Fuck you, Frankie. Fuck you.”

There it all was. And all he could think about was that night at Benny’s wedding. The night you told him you were glad Nick was gone. The night you smiled softly at him, thumb running over his bottom lip as you whispered.

I love you.

They were such fragile words. Words he hadn’t wanted to put any weight on, lest they shatter from beneath him and leave him falling face down in his own hopes. Because a small part of him had almost always hoped it was you. He never let himself truly believe the idea for long. But, God, he wanted to…could he still? He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back his own tears.

“I’m sorry.” His voice trembled in time with his hands. And he’d fully come to terms that it wasn’t just the cool air. He wasn’t a stranger to fearing for his life, with the work he’d once done, it was a given. But this wasn’t that. This was different. It was a fear of something a little more abstract. Because following this risk, there wouldn’t be oblivion. On the other side of his eyelids was a world where you either forgave him or you brushed him away. He certainly believed he deserved the latter with the way he’d been. But he’d never know unless he took the plunge.

When he opened his eyes again again he was grateful to find you still standing in front of him. He wouldn’t let this night steal his courage again. He repeated, voice firmer than before and charged with certainty, “I’m sorry.” Then finally replied, “I love you too. I love you.”

You gave him those hope filled eyes once more. He saw how it slowly morphed into joy; the kind that carried peace. You stepped closer, fingertips brushing against the material of his jacket as you reached for him.

Frankie closed the gap without any hesitation, his own hand moving to cradle your face as he moved in to kiss you. None of his recollections of the first time he’d done it could’ve ever lived up to the second one. There was no dread, no looming guilt, no fear. Only excitement and hope.

“If I could only pick one. I’d marry you. Any day…I’d marry you,” he mumbled against your lips.

You pulled back. And with his eyes still closed, he felt you smile as you answered, “Maybe I’ll ask you again next year. For now, let’s have this.”

“I can handle that,” he smiled then melted into you once more. And already it was something he knew he could easily get used to. Next time you asked, he’d be ready.

#˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚#spacesisterssecretvalentine #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x y/n #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic

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theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago

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much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,.

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

“Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however.

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup.

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar.

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

#hehehehehe enjoy #i love plug eren so much it hurts my head #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger series #eren jaeger fanfic #eren yeager series #attack on titan fic #aot fic #much ado about nothing #much ado uni #much ado universe

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callalillywrites · 19 days ago

Text

Dream Home

Oh, look, it's my first solo Jake Jensen story, and ah, I'm so in love with this man. Everyone, please meet sweet, adorkable Boyfriend!Jake. I have at least one more story planned for him as part of the Horny Hoes Hootenanny that's being hosted by the wonderful @yenzys-lucky-charm and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork.

This fic is actually inspired by one of their Spooktacular Questions and is my gift to them for hosting such a fun event for all of us.

The home below ⬇️ was the option I picked for myself with Jake as well with this question, because man, is this the home I've always dreamed of having when I was a little girl and still dream about having today.

(Credit here)

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jake Jensen x Girlfriend!Reader (Fully established relationship)

Word Count: 3038

Summary: Jake's been away a lot lately which sucks, but you understand that these things happen. What you don't know is that Jake's been working on a surprise for you. If this surprise works, he'll also get a promotion he's been wanting for some time.

Warnings: None really. Fluff. So much fluff with the tiniest angst at the beginning. Jake Jensen is really your only warning here because he is one.

A/N: This story just poured out of me, and I don't regret anything. I can say that I tried my best to make Jake a bit more awkward than I wrote and write him in my Alpha/Beta/Omega verse. I hope I hit the mark a bit better this time around. All mistakes are my own.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

A smile graced your features as you noted the time.

5:00 PM. Friday.

The weekend has finally arrived.

While the week wasn’t a bad one by any means, you couldn’t help noting the release of work tension from your shoulders. It dropped further as you shut your work computer down and gathered your things.

Before you walked to your car, you shot Jake a text, telling him you were on your way home.

Oh, you couldn’t wait to see him most of all.

It’s been a rare sight to see your sweet boyfriend these last few weeks. Whenever you questioned him about his long or sudden absences, he’d tell you it was something work related. A special, hush-hush mission that he couldn’t get into with you then. He’d tell you when he could. He always did.

You could live with him keeping his secrets, but you were struggling with how little you’d seen him. Never had his previous missions been quite like this where he’d disappeared at the weirdest hours, or he’d drop conversations on the phone if he sensed you nearby.

If this had been the earlier days of your relationship, you might’ve suspected Jake of cheating. But if you’d learned anything about Jake Jensen, it was how utterly and deeply besotted he was with you. He worshipped you every chance he got. Spoiled you, too.

It helped that you did the same for him. One of your greatest pleasures was getting him to stutter or blush whenever you found the perfect little doodad for him.

No, if you were being honest, he’d gotten weird not long after you made a most heartbreaking discovery on your favorite home-browsing website.

You still recalled the day you learned your dream home had gone on the market. It was a cute Victorian-style home complete with turrets and gables. The intricate scrollwork and other details made it feel like a little girl’s dollhouse come to life. You could well imagine building a future and a family with Jake in this home. Holidays would be postcard-perfect and could even indulge both yours and Jake’s love for having the best dressed place throughout the year. You could even picture Jake getting into some type of decorating competition with the neighbors.

In a snap, the house went from For Sale to Pending Sale to Sold.

Your dream crumbled before your eyes.

Sure, you could always find a different house to build a home and family with Jake. But deep in your heart, you knew it would never be the same. It wouldn’t be like you imagined and even shared on occasion with Jake whenever he joined you on your home-browsing adventures.

You’d even made a game of it. Some days, you’d share ridiculous homes with outrageous price points or the gaudiest interiors you could find. Other days, you’d share cuter homes that more suited both yours and Jake’s needs.

Jake would do the same, especially during downtime on one of his missions. He swore it helped him stay focused on what he was fighting for. You. The life he wanted with you. The future he saw for himself because of you.

Neither of you had broached the topic of marriage, but you knew without a doubt Jake was it for you and you for him. A piece of paper and a pair of rings weren’t necessary, even if both your families hinted that they did.

Coming into your shared apartment, you called out, “I’m home.”

Silence answered.

You checked your phone to see Jake had read your text, but he hadn’t responded.

Another night spent alone as far as you could tell, but you refused to let it get you down. Dropping your stuff on the closest chair in your living room, you strode toward your bedroom and ensuite bathroom. If you were going to have the place to yourself, then you were going to make the most of it.

A long, hot shower with your favorite bath products was the first order of business. Nothing ever felt as good as washing away the workday, or more so, the work week. Well, maybe a hug from your cuddly boyfriend, but a nice shower worked, too.

Comfy clothes followed, which meant a raid of Jake’s side of the closet. If you couldn’t have him personally, then you were going to make sure you had his scent surrounding you. It didn’t take long to pull out your favorite of his graphic tees and a pair of his softest sweatpants. You completed your ensemble with some of the fuzzy socks he’d given you during one of your first sleepovers.

At least, your night was already looking a little better, even if you were without your greatest comfort.

What you didn’t count on was Jake standing in the bedroom doorway. It took everything in you not to yelp in surprise.

Your surprise soon shifted to concern when you took in Jake’s state. He was clearly out of breath and frankly a little frantic for your tastes. You couldn’t imagine what had happened to elicit such a reaction, but you were determined to find out.

“What’s wrong, Jakey?”

Jake shook his head while taking giant gulps of air. His glasses sat askew on his nose and his clothes had several streaks across them that had you more than a little alarmed. If you didn’t know better, you would say he’d just returned from the worst battlefield. It was impossible since he’d been home when you left for work that morning. Wasn’t it?

Your anxiety had you closing the distance between you, but Jake’s hand shot up, stalling you.

“Stay there, pumpkin,” he said between breaths. “I’m okay.”

It wasn’t lost on you he’d started using his fall-themed nickname for you or the date that day. Jake never forgot the first days of each season, shifting your nickname accordingly. But you had more pressing concerns at the moment, namely the state Jake came home in.

“You sure about that? Jake, you’re covered in…” you let your words trail off in the hopes he’d fill in the blank.

His hands plucked at his clothing while his face twisted in a grimace.

“It’s paint. I swear, pumpkin. Just let me clean up, then I’ve got a surprise for you. If you’re up for one anyway. I don’t want to presume after you just got off work. I’d totally understand if you don’t want to get out again, but I’d really like to show you what I’ve been working on. It can totally wait though I don’t know if I can keep this secret much longer. It’s been killing me, pumpkin, not telling you what I’ve been up to, and I just really, really want to show you.”

Knowing he’d keep going if you let him, you ignored his earlier request to stay back. With two steps, you erased the distance between you two and pressed your hand over Jake’s mouth. It took another second or two for his anxious, buzzing self to realize what you’d done and for him to stop his adorable rambling. Oh, how you adored this man and how flustered he could still get around you.

This close, you realized what you took as alarming concerns were a bit overblown. Sure, Jake was disheveled and shook, but that wasn’t so much from a fear response. No, it was nerves of a different kind, an excited kind. While he might appear to be battle-dirty, you could make out glitter under the paint. Whatever he’d been doing, it wasn’t mission-oriented or military, but it was something he’d been enthusiastically working on. Just for you, you realized. That eased your anxiety and brought a small smile to your lips.

When you were certain he wouldn’t start up again, you moved your hand and fixed his glasses. The smile he sent you had warmth blooming in your chest. Leaning in, you spotted the only clean patch of skin you could find near his jaw and pressed a kiss there. A soft sigh released from him at your gesture.

“Jakey, I’d love to go anywhere with you.” You pressed another kiss to the same patch of skin. “Show me your surprise.” One more kiss. “Please, my love.” A final kiss and a sweet smile to follow your words as you tilted your head to see him better.

You’d never get tired of how he practically melted at your words. His eyes softened behind his glasses, and he leaned into your space unmindful of his clothing. It was as if you’d just trusted him with one of the greatest treasures in the world.

In a way, you had.

He told you every chance he got how much your love was one of the greatest gifts he’d ever gotten, and he’d do anything to keep it. He swore he’d never make you regret giving him your love or your trust, and he’s always made good on that promise.

“I really want to kiss you,” he said in a rough voice.

You grinned.

As you rose on your tiptoes, his hands moved to your waist to keep you balanced. You couldn’t quite keep your smile from turning into a smirk when you leaned close enough to say, “Clean up first, studly, then you can have all the kisses you want.”

“You’re so cruel,” he groaned but acquiesced, “but you’re right.”

With his hands on your hips, you could only giggle as he swooped close and pressed a kiss to your cheek before letting you go. He dashed into the bathroom and hurried to clean up.

Ten minutes.

A new record for your military man.

Dressed in clean clothes, he found you in the kitchen where you’d been preparing a small snack. His arms wrapped around you from behind while his goatee tickled your neck. Several sweet kisses and teasing nips peppered your skin until you couldn’t take it any longer. You turned in his arms and fed him a few pieces of the fruit you chopped up. Each piece followed a peck to his lips.

“So, my studly love, what is this surprise you have for me?” you asked once the two of you finished off the fruit and cleaned up your workspace.

Jake, the menace, yawned and stretched. “I don’t know if I can stay awake now to show you. All that rushing around and then that soothing shower, I’m pretty exhausted, pumpkin.”

Not about to let him get away with hyping you up, you poked him in the stomach. “Oh, no, you don’t, mister. You promised me a surprise, and I want to see it. It’s not nice to tease.”

His brow arched at you then.

As if you didn’t tease him all the time, but you always ended your teasing with the sweetest rewards or surprises. You never left him hanging for long because you were always too giddy to see his reaction to seeing what you got him. His enthusiasm and adoration for everything you got always made it worth the time and effort you invested.

Sensing he wanted to play a bit though, you decided you could play, too.

Moving so you pressed yourself fully to his front, you bit back a grin when he instantly reacted to this new position. It never failed to boost your ego and your confidence in how quickly he reacted every time. His hands came back to your waist to keep you close as they always did.

“Name your price, my love,” you murmured near enough to his lips that you could feel each soft exhale. “What would you like more than anything else so I can earn my surprise?”

To your surprise, he dropped his teasing. His eyes softened though a look of such intent lurked in their depths that had you catching your breath. His nose brushed yours as he whispered, “I have everything I could possibly want right here, pumpkin. I love you so much, you know that?”

You nodded because you did know. It was something you’ve known since you practically met Jake. Sure, you two didn’t have the best first interaction. In fact, it’d been a real disaster, but it’d been what brought you two together. There was no regret in how everything played out from that night until this one.

The teasing glint returned a moment later as he added, “But I wouldn’t mind a proper kiss.”

This time, you rolled your eyes, but you indulged him. It’d been too long since you two had spent more than a few minutes together. You missed him so much, too. At least, it seemed that you wouldn’t be forced to miss him much longer after he finally revealed his surprise.

Just when the kiss would’ve turned into something a bit more, Jake pulled back, his glasses askew once more and maybe a bit foggy. Another boost of confidence at the way you could leave him in a bit of disarray with every make-out session.

He gulped in some air as he rasped, “We’ll come back to this later. It’s getting late, and your surprise is waiting. I don’t want you to miss out on the full effect.”

Within minutes, you two had gathered what you needed for the cooler night air, then headed towards Jake’s car. He helped you into the passenger seat and secured the belt around you. Not a second was wasted as he came around and hopped into the driver’s side, starting the car. His hand reached for yours and held it against his thigh like he always did.

He drove you through the heart of the city and further until you hit the historical district. This was one of your favorite districts because the residents and small businesses alike really liked to go all out for the seasons and holidays. Every building and home were decorated to the nines whether it was spring or fall, Easter or Christmas.

Right then, all the homes and businesses had varying levels of fall decorations with a generous smattering of early Halloween décor mixed in. With that night still a few weeks away, most in this area had plenty of time to really go all out for the spooky season.

It wasn’t until Jake turned on a familiar street that you really perked up. The street name wasn’t lost on you. This was the same street that had your dream home on it.

“Where are we going, Jakey?” you asked, turning down Time Warp as it played on the radio.

His hand squeezed yours. “You’ll see, pumpkin. It’ll all make sense in a moment.”

When he pulled up to the exact home you’ve always dreamed about calling your own, you grew even more confused. The sold sign had disappeared, but that wasn’t what got and kept your attention.

No, it was the fully decked out yard and porch. So many pumpkins, some carved and some not, covered almost every surface. Their sizes ranged from so tiny to almost comically large. Some, you even recognized as being similar to ones you and Jake had collected since moving in together a few years ago.

Past the pumpkins, you could make out a group of people spilling onto the porch. It took you a moment to realize who they were, but their presence didn’t really clear anything up. Why would the Losers be at your dream house? Did one of them buy it and wanted to share their new home with you and Jake? Was this Jake’s surprise?

Thoughts of Jake pulled your attention from your friends standing on the porch to your boyfriend.

You gasped when you turned your head.

While you’d been occupied with taking in everything, Jake had subtly unzipped his jacket and pulled it away so you could read the writing on his shirt.

This shirt is made of Husband Material.

In his trembling hand, he held up one of the most beautiful rings you’d ever seen. It was the very ring you’d seen one day while window shopping. It’d been an impulse to stop in the old antique shop. The ring had been an accidental find that had enraptured you from the moment you spotted it in the case.

When you’d gone back to see it once more, you’d found the shop owner had sold it. The older gentleman had given you what you’d thought to be a sympathetic look, but you realized now his look had held a note of mischief in it. The same mischief Jake’s expression could have whenever he was planning something really sweet for you.

His voice shook almost as much as his hand, but he managed to say, “Welcome to our new home, Mrs. Jensen.”

Tears sprang to your eyes as you took in everything.

“You did all this for me?”

He nodded. “I wanted you to have the house of your dreams, pumpkin. It’s the least you deserve for putting up with me and all my quirks. I’m not the easiest guy or the smoothest, but baby, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that I’m the right guy to love and cherish you if you’ll let me. Marry me?”

“How’s a girl supposed to turn down such a sweet proposal?” You fought back your tears while you brought your hands to his face and tugged him close to you. “I love all your quirks, Jakey, and I love you with all my heart. You are definitely the best man for the job. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

You followed up with your words with several sweet kisses, mindful of the Losers still standing on the porch. Somewhere between all the kisses, he managed to slip the ring on your finger, the fit perfect.

When you finally pulled back, you murmured, “Now, show me our new home so we can celebrate with our friends. Maybe after they leave, we can have a different kind of celebration, hm? One where we break in as many rooms as we can manage before we pass out? What do you say to that, Mr. Jensen?”

“I say,” he paused to unbuckle both your seat belts, then reach for the door handle on his side, “I should hurry up and lead the way, then, Mrs. Jensen.”

*****

Thank you for indulging me. I love Jake so much, and I hope to write more for him in the future. He deserves all the love he can get.

Let me know what you think.

Main Masterlist

#jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #x female reader #hornyhoeshootenanny #spooktacular question #inspired story #boyfriend jake jensen #girlfriend reader #established relationship #fluff #jake jensen fluff

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ramp-it-up · 2 years ago

Text

Bucky Charms

Summary: You learn more about Bucky other than the physical. Are you ready to risk it all?

Pairing: Dark CEO! Bucky Barnes x Journalist! Reader

Warnings: As always, 18+ ONLY, SMUT. Minors DNI. ANGST. Fluff. Descriptions of past trauma, kidnapping, death, violence. Steve and Sam, Pining, lust, flirting through music, teasing, karaoke, non con surveillance, oral sex (m recieving) degradation kink alongside praise kink, Sir kink, good girl/bad girl kink, p in v (wrap it up!) lil bit of breeding kink, Soft Dark Bucky.

A/N: This is part of the Playlist Series. Read the previous part, F*cking Bucky @ysmmsy and @blackwidownat2814 are my exquisite muses who created the playlists, with more to come. 😉 Thanks you both! 🥰 please leave feedback, like and reblog. It helps to inspire me. 😊

The playlist is real and is linked here!

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

I’ll stop the world and melt with you/you’ve seen the difference/ and it’s getting better all the time/there’s nothing you and I won’t do/I’ll stop the world and melt with you…the future’s open wide…

You listened to that cut over and over until you fell asleep after Bucky left your apartment and woke up with it still on repeat.

You’d certainly melted for James Buchanan Barnes last night, and he melted all over you. You smiled at the window, feeling light and buoyant as air, but then sat up and frowned as you realized what Bucky said.

“Professional.”

He’d suggested that you could both be professional. After last night, you didn’t think you could do it, but you had to try. You moved to get out of bed and realized that you were still sore.

You grinned as you padded to the bathroom and ran another hot bath. You didn’t regret a single thing about the night before.

And you had a feeling that despite what Bucky had said, neither did he.

Bucky was late to work. For him. He walked into the office at 8:45 am.

Steve and Sam shared a look across the shared space, but didn’t say a word. Until Bucky put in his AirPods and started singing Frank Ocean.

A tornado flew around my room before you came/Excuse the mess it made…

“Okay. What the hell is going on?”

Bucky stared up at Sam who was now hovering over his desk and who’s broken through his noise cancellation.

“Hunh?

Steve got up and walked over to Bucky.

“Don’t play dumb with us. You are late, and in an awfully good mood. Singing, Buck? What happened last night, Bucky. Did you get with Y/N?”

Bucky looked up at the two men who were most like brothers in his life. He couldn’t hide anything from them.

“So what if I did get lucky last night?”

Bucky put his long legs up on his desk and leaned back in his ergonomic chair.

“What makes you think it was her? There are 4.3 million women in this city.”

Steve and Sam just stared at him, then Steve spoke again.

“Sure. But there’s only one that you are laser focused on.”

Sam agreed.

“Yeah, you’re like a dog with a bone.”

Bucky’s grin got wider and he just shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

Sam shook his head.

“I’ve heard that before. That means this is serious, because in the old days…”

“We got a blow by blow. Literally.”

“Fuck you Steve. And fuck you Sam.”

Bucky threw up double birds at his friends.

“And step the fuck back from my work space. I’ve got work to do.”

When his business partners had safely retreated, Bucky picked up his phone to text you. He couldn’t not text you the morning after, but he had to be careful.

“See you at 4 o’clock. Looking forward to moving on with this project.”

You read the text, your heart beating a mile a minute when you saw the notification. You took some deep breaths as you walked to the subway station to go into the city. It was pretty straightforward. No subtext to be parsed out.

There was no way to know that you were the project that Bucky was talking about.

Both of you went through your days, listening to the playlist Bucky was building throughout the day. This was not the music to do work to. The songs were cute and flirty, silly, surprising, and in some cases full of emotion that went well beyond a professional relationship.

But it was just music, right?

You two sent songs flying to the playlist throughout the day, flirting with music in place of words, glances, and touch. Etta James, Savage Garden, Monica, The Pogues, Frank Ocean, The Darkness, from the 80’s to last month.

It was a very eclectic mix that seemed to summarize both of your personalities perfectly. On the A train that afternoon, you caught an older woman smiling at you as you cheesed at your phone.

Bucky was becoming more and more active on IG since your interview and he’d posted a photo. It was a close up selfie of him staring off into space at his desk in a dark grey suit with a purple line-patterned tie. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and his blue eyes were dreamy.

This man was posting thirst traps fully clothed. And judging from some of the comments, plenty of people were falling for it. There were over 1200 likes in the 90 minutes it had been up.

You didn’t want to like the picture, but then you read the caption.

No time to relax! Finished a full day of work, looking forward to working on a passion project this afternoon. #Icanseethebluerskieslikemulticoloredflowerfields

You scrolled through the comments, people saying how handsome he was, sending their coochie through the interwebs. You sighed, and liked the picture, and then posted your own comment.

I drifted off the Earth to march in your parade/Colors on me moving slowly

Bucky was waiting for your comment, ignoring all of the thirst replies and hoping that you’d respond. He replied with two perfect words.

Technicolor, girl.

Then came another slew of comments about his response and you started gaining random followers.

Oh lord, you thought, this was going to be a lot.

You decided to get control of yourself before 4 pm. If not, you would fall right into Bucky’s arms as soon as you arrived. And that wouldn't do, would it?

45 minutes later, you stood in front of Bucky Barnes’s brownstone for a minute making sure you had composure. You did a mental check of all your systems.

Heart rate: normal.

Breathing: easy.

Panties: dry.

You were confident that you were in full control and could be professional. You paused and bit your lip as you thought of the night before Bucky had made you feel like no one else had. You shook your head to clear it.

You could do it. You could be strong. He probably wasn’t as attractive as you were making him out to be. After all, it had been a while, you were horny, and now, you were fine.

Your hormones had made him out to be more than he actually was. He wasn’t all that. The dick was only amazing because you’d been sex starved. That was it. He had no control over you.

You stood up straight, your self-talk making you confident, you reached up to knock on the door.

Bucky watched your internal struggle on his laptop. He admired the body that he felt like he knew so well after just one night. Your choice of outfit was modest, but sexy. Blue chambray shirt over slim fit black pants and tank with wedge sandals. You were covered, professional, yet comfortable. There was only one upgrade he would recommend.

His blue chambray shirt. But all in due time.

Bucky studied your countenance and posture as you paused before you attempted to enter. The way you bit your lip made his cock shift, but he willed it down. You looked as if you were confident in your self restraint.

Perfect.

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt as you knocked, once, twice, three times and when he saw you look around and lick your lips, tentatively reaching for the digital lock on the door was when he went to open it.

Your heart started beating off kilter when your knock went unanswered.

System one down.

You moistened your lips and looked up and down the street. There was no mistaking what he said last night. It was the right time. And the right place. You had the combination to the door, but you remembered what happened the last time you entered. But you screwed your courage and reached for the lock.

The lock drew away from your hand and you moved as if you were falling down Alice’s rabbit hole when Bucky opened the door.

First sensation: the sound of The Internet playing on a sound system behind him and you knew you were in trouble.

Know you wrong/But sho you right/Home alone/For the night…

Second sensation: falling in slow motion into Bucky’s arms as you tried to follow the knob.

“Oh!”

You stumbled forward further into his chest.

“Hey!”

Bucky chuckled as he held you fast. You two stared at each other and you forgot to breathe. Damn, he was as handsome as you thought. Even more so.

System two down.

Bucky inhaled a good whiff of your scent and smiled down at you.

“We have got to stop meeting like this.”

You looked up at him, slightly confused as you attempted to process the next sensations of Bucky’s hands on your body, the smell of him all around you, and that sexy tenor in your ears. And that smile, that face, that mouth. Your serotonin spiked.

Bucky just continued to smile as you remembered yourself. You pulled back and straightened your clothes.

You concentrated hard for system three to stay afloat. But then you looked back up at him. i

Damn. He was beautiful.

“You okay?”

“No.”

Your panties were not as dry as they were. You wanted to climb the man in front of you, your hormones going crazy with flashbacks of the night before.

James Buchanan Barnes had put it down and now you were addicted.

But you couldn’t just flow with that. You were a professional.

“What-”

“I mean… no worries.”

You smiled brightly at him to cover your embarrassment.

“It was my fault, I should have waited–”

“My fault, I should have checked-”

You both spoke at the same time, and then laughed. You loved Bucky’s eye crinkles.

You cleared your throat and straightened your spine.

Bucky covered a moan in his throat with a cough. That body was his weakness. His cock thickened with thoughts of pulling you in his home and then fuck you on the hallway floor, but instead he stepped back and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

He smiled, and you blushed.

“How are you?”

Bucky ducked his head and smiled that smile at you. He looked so young.

“I’m good, Y/N. Real good. And you?”

His smile was hopeful, and full of knowing. God, you were a simp. Professional wasn’t going to work.

“I’m good, Bucky.”

You smiled at him and you two just stood there grinning.

Bucky just continued to stare at you. His smile and his nervousness was doing something to you, so you cleared your throat again. This was so not what you were expecting.

Finally, Bucky realized the awkwardness of the situation.

“Shit. I’m being rude. Come on into my office.”

You laughed again and followed him into the room, noticing his laptop. It made you grow warm.

“How did you sleep last night?” asked Bucky.

What a question.

He was closer that you thought, but farther away than you hoped. You turned around and looked at him, biting your lip and shifting on your feet.

“After a nice, hot bath, I slept like a baby.”

That eyebrow raised and made you squirm with the faint sensation of him inside you. You could still feel the effects of him.

“Hot bath, huh?”

“Yes, with Epsom salts. I was a bit… sore. Needed another this morning.”

You lowered your eyes to your fingers which were clutching your bag, and then raised them back up to his face. That tongue snaked out and licked his bottom lip and his teeth captured it. You dragged your eyes up to his and saw the desire there. But he also looked contrite.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be.”

You interrupted him, fighting to keep your eyes wide open while they were on his. You tried to keep your voice from cracking when you said, “I liked it.”

Bucky took a deep breath and stepped to you.

“Y/N. I want to talk to you… about ground rules. With us.”

You lowered your eyes. You just knew he was going to shut all of this flirting down. You weren’t going to beg him, you just had to suck it up. Even though this thing between you felt like crack.

Bucky tipped your chin up, the feeling of his fingers on you shooting electricity straight to your core.

“I don’t want there to be any.”

“What?”

You were confused.

“I thought last night would get it out of my system, but it only served to make me want more.”

What was he saying?

“More? More what? You want more sex?”

You were thrilled and disappointed at the same time. Bucky Barnes had you stirred up.

“Of course I do.You’re beautiful. That body, the way you feel…I’m not dead.”

Bucky stood there and his eyes raked over you with possession. And you let hIm, wanting to belong to him. That realization had you shook.

“But I want more. More than just sex. And if you just want sex, then that can’t happen. Feelings would get involved. At least for me.”

Bucky drew in a ragged breath.

“So you have to know that you are in control of this…” he moved his hand between you both, “this situation. Because I can’t trust myself to not go headlong over this cliff with you…”

Bucky’s eyes searched yours and you tried to return his honest gaze. His words were so fucking charming that you were ready to jump as well. But you had work to do.

“I get it, Bucky. Let's just take it moment by moment. Right now, I’ll behave and be a good girl.”

Bucky released a light groan and shook his head as his eyes dilated slightly.

“Please stop. Unless you want me to…”

He stopped, and you could tell that he was holding himself back by the way his jaw clenched. The knowledge that you had this power over him was heady stuff. But you decided to chill.

“Okay, you’re right, we have work to do. Now is not the time for.. more.”

You looked up at him and bit your lip.

“Definitely not.”

“Totally.”

You took a deep breath.

“Where’s the manuscript?”

Bucky’s eyes swept over you one more time, then turned to his laptop, sat down and typed for a few seconds.

“In your inbox.”

He was calmer now, and anxious for you to read his story.

You sank down into the couch and opened your bag to grab your own laptop.

You looked up at him one more time before you started to read, and when you began, you were quickly immersed in the narrative.

An hour and half later, you looked up at him, tears in your eyes.

“Bucky… I…”

“Is it any good?”

You looked at him in a totally new light. This was a different level of intimacy than just sex. This was his soul laid bare..

“Is it any good? Bucky, it’s fantastic! The honesty, the raw emotion…thank you for trusting me with this.”

Bucky gave you a sad smile and your heart twisted. You centered yourself by observing details and realized that his tie was now off and his sleeves were rolled up. He seemed more relaxed and natural and now that you knew the full story of Bucky Barnes, he was a marvel.

You put your laptop aside and stared off into space, trying to process. Bucky watched your profile, anxious and wanting to pull you into an embrace. But you were setting the pace.

You looked back over at him after a full minute.

“Are you sure you want all of this out there? This gives insight into your most personal, devastating moments. It will give people a lot of access to things most people hold close. And it opens you up for a lot.”

You had an entirely new perspective on James Buchanan Barnes. One that went far beyond sex.

“Yes. Writing this down has helped me to heal. Publishing it will bring closure.”

Bucky stood up and poured himself a drink, and offered the brown liquor to you. You nodded and took the glass, realizing that it was probably Macallan 18.

This man had lost his wife, his whole life… you couldn’t imagine. And here you were wondering if he were playing games.

“It must have been horrifying.”

Bucky nodded and looked down into his drink.

“At first I had no memory of what I’d done and how I’d done it. I woke up in the hospital and saw the headlines that the CEO of CapTech had been found injured and sobbing hysterically as he cradled his wife in his good arm. The most anyone knew was that Sarah was killed in a failed robbery attempt. No one knew about the kidnapping.”

You rocked back in your seat, remembering the rumors around that event. Word was that Bucky went almost insane with grief.

You realized now that the rumor was true.

“My heart was buried in the casket with Sarah, and after everything that happened, I went into a type of hibernation, holed up in the Manhattan penthouse above our offices. Steve and Nat challenged me to get back to work a year later, telling me that they were taking up my slack.”

Bucky laughed bitterly, shook his head, and took a drink.

“It wasn’t until Sarah’s birthday two years later that I finally noticed that Sam was grieving as hard, if not harder, than I was. And I realized how selfish I’d become.”

Bucky looked at you with a pained look on his face and you shivered, feeling a fraction of the emotion he must have been feeling. You wanted to cry.

“Bucky… I’m so sorry.”

Bucky looked at you.

“Don’t be sorry, Y/N. It’s alright. I’m ok now.”

“But… how?”

Bucky smiled at you.

“Well, intense therapy for one. Family therapy with Sam. Running. Running with my friends, or… with strangers I bump into.”

He gave you a smile and you smiled back, hopelessly connected to this man.

“Another thing that has helped me immensely was meeting you and seeing the way you crafted our interview, and experiencing the response to it. I’m communicating about myself more with the public.

“Yes, I’ve noticed the response you’re getting on social media.”

Bucky just chuckled at your thirst trap shade.

“I need you to help me tell this story, Y/N. Please. Help me.”

You leaned toward him. You two gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Your story is powerful the way it is, but right now, the way it reads leaves you open to some liability for what happened to those men in that warehouse that day. I believe you that it was self defense, and defense of your wife. That was such a hard thing to live through and to write down. I have an idea on how to revise the story to keep the emotion, but protect you, and Sarah and Sam at the same time. Hear me out.”

—--

Two hours later, you’d sketched out revisions to Bucky’s memoir. You were emotionally spent. And starving. It was almost 8pm. You looked at Bucky when you were done and he read you like a book.

“I ordered Thai food 45 minutes ago when you were on a roll outlining. I hope you’re hungry.”

You sighed and smiled.

“Feed me and I will love you forever.”

You laughed at your joke, but Bucky did not.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N.”

Suddenly, the air was thick with need.

“About that… Bucky… I want to work with you on this project. But I can’t deny that… that I am attracted to you in the worst way.”

Bucky smiled and cocked his head.

“’The worst way.’ Is it that bad? I feel like I need to apologize.”

You nodded.

“It is bad. If we need to be professional.”

Bucky looked up in the air.

“Well. Think about last night…”

You shifted in your seat.

“I mean, we just did some pretty good work tonight. After what happened,…”

Bucky grinned

“Well. You’re not wrong…”

You grinned back at him. You just liked him so fucking much.

The tension was thick. You were about to climb onto Bucky’s lap when the doorbell rang. He looked disappointed, as if he was reading your mind again.

You stood up, drank some water and tried to get your head on straight. Bucky came back in with and you remembered your hunger for food.

When you’d eaten, Bucky had a suggestion.

“Listen, we did some good work, had some good food, but I don’t want the night to end. And it is Friday. Don’t need to get up early tomorrow.”

Bucky looked at you like a little boy again.

You raised your eyebrow at him

“What do you suggest this late that we haven’t already done today?”

Bucky grinned at you.

BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE/THE WAY THAT YOU FLIP YOUR HAIR GETS ME OVERWHELMED/BUT WHEN YOU SMILE AT THE GROUND, IT AINT HARD TO TELL/ YOU DON’T KNOW OH-OH/YOU DON’T KNOW YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL!

You two were laughing through belting out the One Direction song at the top of your lungs at Upstairs Karaoke bar, not far from where you both lived. You were both jumping around and acted like idiots, as one does when they have a proper fun time doing Karaoke.

“Omg! Bucky! That was terrible.”

You grimaced, thinking about your singing voice.

“I bet you’ve reconsidered this idea after that.”

Bucky just ginned and swung the mic around in a circle as the music for the next song came up.

“I can do this all night.”

I can't fight this feeling any longer…

You grinned back and joined him in singing REO Speedwagon.

——

Three hours later, at almost one am, you walked back toward Bucky’s brownstone, and your apartment. When it came time to turn in the direction of your place, you took Bucky’s hand and tugged it toward his place. You walked in silence toward his house until you spoke up again.

“I’ve been through the gauntlet of emotions today, Bucky.. I mean in the last 24 hours.”

“Hmmmm?” said Bucky.

“Yeah. Lust, uncertainty, infatuation, nervousness, sympathy, motivation to write, attraction, hunger, silliness, and just plain fun. It feels like we’ve lived a lifetime today.”

Bucky stood on his stoop and looked down into your eyes.

“I feel the same. With maybe a couple more thrown in.”

You cocked your head.

“Yeah, like what?”

“Mmmmmm. Not ready to reveal that just yet. But I do want to explore a couple that you’ve mentioned. But, like I said earlier, that’s not my call.”

“Which ones?”

You didn’t know why you were holding your breath.

“Lust, infatuation, attraction… and hunger.”

You knew he wasn’t taling about Thai food.

“Oh.”

You tugged his hand, leading him up his own steps and put the code into his door.

“I would like to experience, more of those. And more of what you want. Bucky. Let’s drive off that cliff.”

With that, you pulled him inside.

You two kissed all the way down the hallway to his living room, where you ended up on his leather couch, pulling off your jacket and pulling the sweater he had put on over his shirtsleeves up over his head. You were feral for him.

And so, it seemed, he was for you.

“Come here, Doll.”

Bucky grabbed your neck and pulled your lips toward him as he devoured your mouth and his hand roamed your body.

“Been wanting to kiss you all night. Want to kiss your lips. I love the way they suck my tip.”

His hoarse voice in your ear did things to you, although you were confused at first until his put his hands in your leggings past your panties and used two thick fingers to part your pussy. He wasn’t talking about the lips on your face.

He used your slick to lubricate his digits and entered you, pumping a few times, watching as your head lolled back on your shoulders. He kissed your neck and cleavage as you succumbed to the pleasure. Then, he pulled his hand away and toward his mouth, earning a whine from you.

Bucky meant to just taste you, but that taste stirred something in his soul.

“What the fuck are you doing to me?”

He kissed you, letting you taste yourself on him, then rested his forehead on yours as he asked a question.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

“Let me suck your dick, Bucky.”

He pulled away from you, and looked you in the eyes.

“You’ll get anything to ask for.”

This was a different Bucky, not totally unlike the night before. Still sex on legs, but this Bucky was gentle, but still oh so sexy.

He pushed you backward until you stood up before him and he took off his shirt, and then his pants. You reached for him before he took off his underwear, pulling his waist band so that his hard cock slapped his abs. You stared down at it but didn’t touch it.

“I’ve been dreaming of this since last night, when you denied me.”

You swiped your thumb along his tip and then sucked it, making him lick his own lips.

“Sit down, please. Sir.”

Bucky sat, and then you kneeled in front of him on the hardwood floor. Bucky noticed and put a pillow down for you to kneel on. You smiled at him as he started stroking himself. You stared, your hand trailing song your neck and chest absentmindedly as you admired him.

“It really is a thing of beauty. Ever since I saw it the other day, I’ve been obsessed with it. How it would feel, how it would split me apart. How it would taste.”

You looked up at Bucky and it was like he’d been shot with a magazine of cupid’s arrows.

“Damn, Doll. You sure do have a way with words.”

You reached for him, grasping his shaft in one hand that looked small now, and his balls in the other.

“I’m not all talk…”

And then you leaned forward to lick a stripe on the underside of his cock, from his balls to the tip, stopping to suck the thick cap vigorously.

“Ooooh, shit… Doll. That mouth.”

Bucky’s head was sideways, cocking his head to watch you from that angle.

You opened your mouth and took as much as you could in your mouth and relaxed your throat to let him in there.

“Gotdamn.”

He placed his hand on your head but placed no pressure on you as you bobbed freely for his pleasure. And yours.

You placed your hands on his tensing thighs as you came apart as a result of your mouth, and he shuddered when you released him with a pop just to grab it again and trail your tongue back down his length. You drew his balls into your mouth, one at a time as you continued to stroke him off.

Bucky was looking at you with disbelief. He was putty in your hands. He leaned forward to kiss your sloppy face.

“I want to be inside you, wanna make love to you. Take off those clothes.”

He spoke to you softly, yet with a command your body remembered. You stood up slowly and tried to gracefully shed your garments as he stroked himself and looked up at you like you were the moon.

“So beautiful.”

Bucky reached out and made grabby hands for you as you stood naked before him.

”C’mere. Climb on. Let me in again.”

He continued to stare up at you, kissing your sternum and each breast as your thighs trembled on either side of his as you slid down over his mushroom cap.

“Buckyyyyyy.”

The feeling of him splitting you open caused a delicious pain, the soreness from the night before still evident. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to his size.

And you didn’t want to.

“Fuck me baby doll. Fuck me good. Fuck your self on this dick.”

Bucky slipped his hand between you two and started circling your clit in tight little circles.

“Oh my god Bucky! I can’t. Can’t breathe, can't concentrate…”

Your mind was mush as Bucky drove you toward your peak and up over the edge.

“Shhhh…”

Bucky leaned down to lick your nipple and suck briefly, teasing each breast in turn to work you up even more.

“Don’t think. Just feel. Release all thoughts. Cum for me.”

“Jeeeeeezzzzzzuzzzzzz!”

You came ferociously, clenching around Bucky and causing him to pulse inside you.

“Thaaat’s a good girl.”

He did not let up on your clit and drew your pleasure out until you were a complete mess on his lap.

Bucky licked a stripe up the middle of you, from your belly button to your cheek as you lay back in is arms, cock drunk, and still impaled on his very stiff dick.

“You tastes so fucking good, Doll. Tasted you in my dreams last night.”

You your surprise, he stood up, holding you and turned around to place you on the couch. The fine leather stuck to your sweaty skin, but you didn’t care.

“I don’t want to service you anymore.”

Bucky started pumping and telling you how he felt. All you could do was moan in response.

“Want to make love to you.”

He watched your fucked out face and started stroking more insistently.

“Of course, if you were mine, I’d service you anytime you needed it. Give you everything your heart, mind, pussy, body could want…”

“Yes, Bucky… yessssss.”

You were blissed out, hearing and feeling all the sensations you wanted at the moment.

“What are you doing to me doll?”

Bucky’s eyes moved from where you two were connected to your face.

“So beautiful…”

He grabbed your hand from where it was resting on his abs, picked it up, and brought it to his mouth, kissing your palm. Your back arched at the added sensation of his lips on your hand and the long fingers on his other hand grabbed your hip as he continued.

Bucky’s ice blue eyes were watching you as yours closed in ecstasy.

“Yes.”

He started moving your hip, long fingers digging in and sure to leave a bruise.

“You like this? Like how I’m giving it to you? You deserve it. Such a good girl.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

You started moving, loving the feel of the wiry hairs at the base of his cock against your clit.

“Feels so good. Feels like this dick is mine.”

Bucky’s eyes were focused on yours now. He held your stare, which bloomed new warmth in your belly.

“You want it to be yours?”

You didn't answer, just bit your lip and nodded.

Bucky’s hand snaked up behind you and grabbed the hair at your nape, causing your neck to bend and your body to arch backward.

He admired your form and the way your breasts moved as you did. You could feel him swell impossibly more than he already was.

“I’m trying to be gentle. Sweet and slow. Like a good girl should be fucked .But you just make me want to… make me wanna fuck you. Like…”

Bucky groaned and squeezed your hip.

“Take it, Bucky. It’s yours.This pussy is alll yours.”

You rotated your hips so as to feel all of him, and which caused him to spurt a little inside you.

“You trying to make you cum inside you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

You moaned as Bucky’s hand came around and grasped your throat skillfully. His other hand grows and pinched your nipples, causing your hips to move wildly.

“There’s my bad girl. Damn. I think I…..”

“Y-yes Sir?”

Bucky almost let it slip.

“I think I wanna cum inside.”

He leaned down to whisper into your ear. That voice making you clench harder around him.

“Would you like that? Hot load of cum in your tight little snatch?”

“Oh, ohhhh shittt. Yes!”

“So fucking pretty when you’re needy, Doll.”

The combination of filth and praise sent your over the edge and you detonated around him, causing Bucky to hike your knee over his elbow and start chasing his own end.

“I can’t… No. I won’t deny myself any longer. I want this. I want you and I’m gonna. Shit can I? Can I please cum inside?”

Bucky begging got you hot and bothered again. You nodded vigorously.

“Please, I want it too!”

“Circle that clit for me. Circlie it. Cum again for me just one… fuck, just once moreeeee!”

Bucky came inside you with a shout, shooting hot ropes of cum onto your cervix. You came when you felt that and as Bucky pumped like a jackrabbit inside you.

“Holy shit.”

He chuckled in your ear.

You curled yourself around Bucky and gladly accepted his weight for a few minutes. Then, he lifted himself off of you and knelt on the floor.

“Was that? Was that okay? Did you really want this?”

Bucky looked so earnest. You nodded.

“Yes Bucky. And I want more.”

You bit your lip as he smiled down at you.

“Wanna spend the night?”

You shook your head.

“No.”

Bucky’s smile dropped. You put your hand on his cheek..

“It’s practically morning. I’ll sleep over and let you feed me breakfast later. And then we’ll talk about spending the night.”

“Anything that’ll make you smile, Doll.”

Hit play on that reblog button! 😏

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Sebastian Stan imagine #Sebastian Stan #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes smut #soft dark ceo Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #playlist #the playlist séries #bucky barnes x journalist #ask dj #soft dark! ceo Bucky Barnes #Bucky x reader #Bucky x you #bucky smut

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katiesdailystruggle · 11 months ago

Text

Okay yall. I quit trying to make this perfect. I'm well aware it's a little rough around the edges, and I'm also well aware not everyone will like it. Nonetheless, here’s my community service to the sickie bangtan lovers for this year <3

Drabble fic is below the cut. Thanks for waiting patiently! I truly hope you enjoy this pure indulgence lmao.

Title: one stormy night

Word count: 2.2k

Ship: namjinkook - caretakers namjin, sickie jungkook

Tropes: sickfic, fluff, lil bit of snz, basic flu symptoms (the good stuff ya know)

Set in a random AU where Namjin are lovers who own a small shop, Jin is a healer, Namjoon is a mage, and Jungkook is just struggling, ill stranger who manages to fall head over heels in love with his saviors, whilst namjin also fall hard lol.

Seokjin was startled abruptly at the sound of the iron knocker pounding the front door, pausing his job of drawing the drapes for the evening. He and his lover, Namjoon, shared a small cottage in the middle of the woods that was outfitted into a potion shop for the neighboring villagers.

It was well passed their closing time, and Jin knew they didn’t have any appointments on file this late in the day. His stomach clenched with nerves as his gaze shifted to his husband’s usual position by the hearth. “I’ll get the door,” he softly said, making his way over to gently coax Namjoon back down to sit in the armchair. “You had a lot of spells today. Rest a while, I can handle this.”

It was getting late, he was exhausted from a long day’s work, and he didn’t know who was pounding on the door. It would be easy to become frustrated and get rid of whoever beckoned them, but Jin wasn’t heartless. It was storming outside, and maybe someone needed help. The healer in him wouldn’t let someone in need fend for themselves, and he would much rather waste some time than have regrets in his consciousness.

Pulling his evening robes further across himself to help defend the evening chill, Jin released the deadlock and the binding spell on the door, cautiously opening it a crack to peer outside. An unfamiliar silhouette greeted him, though it was difficult to perceive little else due to the heavy rainfall.

“Good evening, stranger,” Jin’s eyes ghosted over the heavily soaked man before him, an oversized hood covering his features dripping rapidly as the rain continued to pour down relentlessly. “I’m afraid we haven't met before, is there something I can do for you?”

“Please,” came the drenched strangers’ reply. “I’m just trying to make it to eastern lands.” Jin took mental note of the thick rasp and nasally tone in his voice. “I just need a roof to block this storm for an hour or so. I’m very weary from traveling.” The stranger didn’t make any move to invade their cottage of his own volition, and he was leaning heavily against their meager porch post for support to stay upright.

The poor dear. Squinting in a fruitless attempt to see better through the storm, Jin took note of the stranger’s trembling frame, his soaked clothing underneath the heavy travel cloaks, and the poorly fitted boots on his feet. He’s been traveling for a long while, weeks at the very least.

“You’re welcome to come in and dry off for as long as you need,” a soft smile adorned Jin’s features as he reached out to help support the traveler’s weak frame for the short distance inside. “We haven’t got much to offer in means of transportation to the east, but you must at least rest here a while. You’re soaked through.” A familiar pang of sympathy pulsed through his heart.

Jin’s own clothing was becoming rather damp just holding the stranger’s underarms, it couldn’t have been comfortable in the slightest to travel through this disastrous weather heavily weighed down by wet cloaks.

At the sound of the door shutting behind them, Namjoon stood up abruptly, eyes narrowed skeptically onto the hooded stranger, but he made no move to turn him away either. Jin nodded in silent thanks for his husband’s trust, as the two made their way slowly across the foyer. "A traveler needs a place to rest tonight. Help me tend to him, Joonie?"

Catching him by surprise as he was speaking, Jin nearly tripped over himself when the stranger suddenly bent over, a series of thick, painful coughs erupting from deep within his chest. As he fought to pull in a deep breath, Jin gently tugged back his hood to better inspect the ailments plaguing him.

And - oh. What an absolute darling. The gentle scrunch of his nose, the soft doe eyes crinkled in irritation as the worst of the coughing fit passed. His cheeks were flushed from the cold air, and the fringe of his bangs dripped with rain water as they hung in front of his eyes. He was beautiful. Jin had only ever had eyes for Namjoon, but the sweet one before him brought up emotions bubbling within that he had not felt before. He always did get attached easily.

No matter though, he had a job to do, and the stranger needed medical attention regardless of his mysterious beauty. Jin was a professional, and he would tend to whatever ailment was present.

“That cough sounds awful, dear,” Jin spoke softly as he made to undo the poorly tangled cloak ties. “You can call me Jin-hyung, what would you like me to call you?”

“Jungkook is my name,” the little one managed to rasp out and Jin hardly concealed a wince at the painful sound of crackling phlegm in his throat. “I don’t mind what you call me though. I don’t have any means to pay, I’m sorry.”

Jungkook’s eyes were glistening with unshed emotion, and he was sniffling thickly, pawing at his nose and eyes desperately in obvious irritation.

Another pang of sympathy shot through Jin’s heart at the sight of tears, but before he could utter another word, Namjoon was already stepping around him to help Jungkook settle into an empty cot by the healer’s table. Jin easily recognized the look in the mage’s eyes as one of empathy and adoration. They were both so utterly hopeless.

“That’s quite alright, Jungkookie, you needn’t worry about such affairs,” Namjoon spoke in a soft whisper. “You can call me Namjoon hyung. Just lie back, and we will take good care of you. I promise.”

A mixed array of confusion and relief flooded Jungkook’s sweet features, and he blinked several times, allowing a few stray tears to trickle down his cheeks. “Thank you hyungs, I’m afraid I’m not well,” he briefly paused speaking as his breathing caught roughly, a small trembling hand still rubbing harshly at his nose. “It’s been weeks and this head cold just isn’t going away. My travels have just made everything w-worse…oh…e-excuse me,” His lovely eyelids fluttered shut, as several productive sneezes ripped out of his chapped nose, chest heaving wildly in a desperate attempt to quell his breathing back to normal. Jungkook let out a shuttering sigh afterward, teary eyes darting away from the healer every so shyly. “Pardon me, please. I can’t seem to stop sneezing.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Jin cooed gently, reaching out to wipe his messy nose with a handkerchief. “Sounds like a little more than a nasty cold to me. I’m a trained healer, and Namjoonie here is a mage. I’ll check you over and see if we can’t get some medicine and hot soup into you by the end of the hour.” His gentle, calculated hands were tenderly pulling Jungkook’s soaked downshirt off, Namjoon already having started freeing him of his trousers.

“We need to get you out of these wet clothes and bundled up to dry by the fire,” Jin wrapped a soft, cotton towel around Jungkook’s trembling frame, and the relief on his face was so genuinely innocent, that he felt his own emotions stirring up. “Joonie, dear, if you wouldn’t mind putting the kettle to boil, fetching me some blankets and a clean nightshift, please.”

Jungkook was finding it harder to pay attention to Jin’s words than it should’ve been. Time seemed to slow down as he lost the ability to function properly. His breathing was becoming labored and that ever-present aching in his chest was becoming a harsh sting now. When did it get so warm? Or was it cold? He couldn’t tell anymore.

He had begun to slouch so low into himself, and his eyes were starting to close tiredly. Jin gently pressed the back of his hands to Jungkook’s cheeks and neck, humming softly at the detection of his obvious temperature. The poor dear, so very exhausted from traveling ill. “It’s quite alright if you fall asleep now, sweetheart. Just lie back down, I’ll wake you when I have medicine for you to take.”

As if by order of Jin’s permission, Jungkook’s consciousness slowly slipped into a light doze, long past the point of exhaustion. His breathing evened down to labored short puffs of stuffy air, nose scrunched up ever so sweetly into a sleepy, ticklish expression. It only had been movements, but Jin’s heart was entirely stolen.

At the younger’s slip into a fitful sleep, Jin made quick work of checking his vitals, throat, nose, and ears - getting a specific reading on his rising temperature, a worrying one, no less. Namjoon was back a few moments after he finished pulling a thick comforter up over Jungkook’s sleeping form.

“Water just started boiling hyung,” he whispered as he placed a stack of wool blankets and a silken shift on the armchair. “Want me to fill a basin of hot water and get some ailment tea brewed?”

Jin’s eyes softened even further at his lover, unable to look stressed even in the face of the ill young one beside himself. “That would be lovely, Joonie, thank you. Help me dress him first?”

-------------------------------------------------------

Jungkook’s head felt heavy, dizzyingly so. There was also a nauseating spin of the room from lying horizontally as his ill body fought to stay sleeping. He didn’t know how long he’d been dozing off, time was passing unawares to him, though it didn’t feel near long enough before his consciousness was slipping back in. An irritating tickle was forming deep in his sinuses, whilst, unfortunately, his little nose scrunches were doing little to fight back. Having no wherewithal to cover, Jungkook released a flurry of wet, desperate sneezes into the firm chest next to him.

“Oh Jungkookie,” Namjoon softly cooed from above. “Blessings, you sound so poorly.” He was poorly, what a gods sent gift the hyungs shop was nearby. Sniffling desperately to contain the productive wetness that was now beneath his nose, Jungkook felt his eyes well up once more.

“My handkerchief is wet.” He whined softly, words muffled into the sweet hyung cradling him. He needed something to cover with, he needed to sneeze again. And what a tragedy it was indeed because the tickle persisted despite the fit he had just released previously. Damn, his ever-sensitive nose. Always getting in the way of comfort.

“I can’t blow my nose… and I need to…” He trailed off breathily, already starting to work his way into a hitch. A shuffling of movement briefly distracted his gasping speech, as his face was suddenly covered in a warm, large bundle of soft fabric. “Here, sweetie. All yours.” Jungkook felt Namjoon’s deep voice reverberate through his whole being, though perhaps that was also the fever chills shaking him through.

Noting he was now pressed against bare skin, not a cotton downshirt, his brain fumbled to keep up with the fact that he was presently leaking tears and mucus all over Namjoon’s shirt. He wasn’t thinking, the logical part of his brain long past gone, in the throes of his current predicament. If he had been, perhaps the prospect of using another man’s shirt in lieu of a handkerchief would’ve been embarrassing. One he had scarcely just met, no less. But he didn’t even have time for that. His eyes were watering, mouth falling open in desperate breaths, his nose burning ever so badly as it teased his need for release. Instead of granting him relief, though, the hitching just made him cough harshly, once again, all over Namjoon.

“Let’s get you in some dry clothes, sweetie,” Namjoon muttered, gently combing his hands through the young man’s hair. “I have a nice, warm nightshift right here for you.”

All Jungkook could seem to muster out was a small moan in response, shaky and once again, hitched, as he pawed at his nose in sleepy annoyance. “I know Jungkookie, almost there. I’m sorry, I know it’s chilly. Just gotta get this over your head now…there we go, left arm first, good boy.“ Was that Jin’s voice now? The feeling of cold air fading into warm silk on his skin caused a raspy whine to come out of his mouth before his thoughts even caught up. “It’s okay, it’s okay. All done.” Definitely Jin.

Despite the warm, dry clothing covering him now, chills racked his body relentlessly. It didn’t take but a few more hitching breaths before his face scrunched up in a defeated flurry of congested sneezes. “Bless you, little one. Come on, blow for me,” Jin whispered from his left, the down shirt coming back up to cover most of his face. Jungkook was ever obedient though, so he managed to huff out a thick blow at Jin's discretion. Gods this shirt was going to be so gross. Poor Namjoon. “There we go, all better. Good job, Jungkookie.” For someone whose shirt was now a makeshift hanky, Namjoon’s voice sounded awfully pleased with him.

A flush dusted his cheeks as he glanced up at both men in pure adoration, one not having to do with his fever. But the hyungs didn’t need to know that. Soft wool blankets were quickly wrapped around his shoulders, and he let out a relieved sigh when his feet were placed in a basin of hot water. The trembling didn’t stop, nor did the deep aches in his body, but the sudden warmth and Namjoon and Jin’s presence were enough to let him doze off for a while. He was safe. And for now, that was enough.

#sick jungkook #bts sickfic #bts sickfics #sickfic #caretaking #its hereeeee #i realize this might be disappointing #considering how long it took me lmao #but its my first fic since 2020 #so #im proud ig #pls let me know how it is #i crave validation lmao

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currytantou · 3 months ago

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[translation] Mayonaka Danshi Meshi audio drama / s1ep1 CVs: Uchiyama Kouki & Itou Kento

do not repost or use my translations! link back if you want to share. partial screenshot it allowed but blatant copy/paste is prohibited

Also x-posted on my wordpress page

Watch/listen here

0:12 (sound of typing on keyboard) Email to the other side…done. Documents for tomorrow…done. (watch beeps) Oh! Just in time. Alright, then! (clicks mouse then gets up) Hashida is signing off! Good work everyone.

0:50 What’s for dinner tonight? (phone vibrates) Yes, it’s Hashida. Thank you for your patronage. Yes.. (footsteps receding) Oh, the quotation estimate? Yes. I can confirm that on my side. Is it urgent? I can get to it. I’ll send it to you soon so please wait a moment.

(phone beeps) Change of direction, huh? Well, that can’t be helped.

1:35 Shoot. That took longer than expected. Can I make it in time before the store closes? My fridge is pretty much empty. At this rate, I might have to settle with eating box lunch from the convenience store. Please, make it in time! No, I’ll make sure to make it!

Ahh, I can’t make it! What to have for dinner? Should I just compromise today? Nah, I’m in the mood for Japanese food thanks to what I had for lunch. I’m not giving up now. I’ve no other choice. I’ll have to detour and go to the supermarket on the other side of the river.

2:29 No way…. How is this possible? I went to three different supermarkets and the fact that each of them ran out of vegetables… I was stubborn and ended up wasting my time. Should’ve used my time for something more worthwhile if I knew this would happen. (sighs) No point regretting over the past. Sometimes, incidents like this happen. Convenience- nah, I’ll settle with instant noodles today.

3:12 Finally home. It’s quite late already. Hmm, postage and letters.. hm? A delivery, eh? I got stuff delivered to me… That’s quite a big box. Oh? It’s from grandma! Huh? Did I ask her something?

I’m back~ (walks with the box and then opens the door) Heigh-ho..! That was quite heavy. What did grandma send me? (tears the tape) These are..! Lotus root, burdock and carrot! And plenty more! Oh, great! This box is full with veggies from back home! Feels as if grandma saw through me today! Talk about timing. Hm? Hold on. (checks fridge) Chicken and konjac jelly. Alright! I got ‘em. I can do this! I can make grandma’s chikuzenni with these ingredients. I don’t have to give up on eating Japanese dish! Thanks, grandma.

Still, I haven’t had chikuzenni in a while since I left home. I hope I can pull this off. Anyway, I just gotta try.

5:20 (pot boiling) First, pre boil the konjac jelly. I should prepare the rest of the ingredients in the meantime. Right. I should first peel the skin off. Get the carrot and lotus root done smoothly with this peeler. (peels veggies) Taro’s skin is thick so I gotta use a knife instead. (sound of cutting against wooden cutting board. Next, burdock. Just washing ‘em with water is enough, I guess? (washes burdock) That’d do. Now, I gotta cut these guys up. (cuts)

Grandma did mention that cutting uniformly matters in stews. When they’re different, the ingredients don’t soak up the same amount of flavour. Good thing I remember that. (continues cutting) What’s left are taro and soaked shiitake. Bite size cut would do.

7:13 Alright. Time to cut these pre-boiled konjac jelly. Evenly cut the konjac…nah, maybe I should try shred it roughly with a spoon. The sections are rougher than when cut using a knife and apparently this way, they would soak the flavour even better…but oh well, I can’t wait to try it out.

(water runs) Also, grandma’s chikuzenni isn’t complete without this…ginger. Ginger really makes so much difference. I’m gonna shred this guy thinly. (sound of cutting against board) Whew. Pretty much done with the prep for now. Next is the chicken. (brings out pot)

Sesame oil goes inside the pot and heats it up. (switches on gas) Add chicken and stir fry until the colour changes. (pot sizzles)

8:47 I guess this would do..? Then, I just gotta add the veggies that I cut earlier into the pot. (sizzles) Stir them until everything is covered in oil. Hm! This fragrant sesame oil aroma! How appetizing. Hm. Looking good. Almost ready. Add the water from soaked shiitake, sake, mirin, soy sauce, sugar and finally, ba-bam! Thinly sliced ginger! Ugh! What am I doing? Alright. What’s left is to let it simmer well. Hm? I feel like I forgot something…? Oh, a lid! Gotta cover it with a lid. Without it, the flavour would be uneven.

(covers pot with a lid) That’d do. Hold on. I forgot the bean to garnish with at the end. I should boil some in the meantime. (sound of water running, metal pot and gas being turned on)

Hmm. About twenty minutes until it’s ready, eh? Right.. I made quite a huge serving. Maybe I should let Akira eat some. Bet he’s eating junk either way.

10:30 (pot boiling) Alright. About time it’s done. I wonder how it’d turn out? Whoa. Looks good. Salty-sweet aroma. This is the best! (turns off the stove)

(door opens then closes) Sudou: Yo~ Hashida: Oh, you’re here? Sudou: Hashi, this is not like back home. You better lock the door. Hashida: Oh, sorry. I forget sometimes. Well, not like I have anything worth stealing. Sudou: One thought he’s guarded but it’s the other way. Hashi, that side of you really never changes. Hashida: Really? I don’t think I am that unguarded. Sudou: Oh, whatever. That aside. That smells really good. Stew? Hashida: Correct. I made chikuzenni today. Using the recipe from my granny. Sudou: Wow, seriously? How delightful. Makes me feel excited. Hashida: You don’t look excited though. Well, that’s not important. I’m gonna garnish this so Akira, can you dish out the rice? Sudou: Okay~

(opens fridge) Hashida: I got some beer. You’re drinking? Sudou: Yeah. Bring ‘em out. Hashida: Hmph. Silly.

11:59 (arranges plates) Hashida: Alright. Now that everything’s ready. It’s time. Hashida & Sudou: Bon appetit.

(both started eating)

Hashida: Oh. The flavour soaked in nicely. Sudou: Hm. This is good. Hashida: I was right to tear the konjac with a spoon. They soak the flavour well and curl into a nice shape. Sudou: Hmm, that method is possible, eh? Actually, this really tastes like the one I had at Hashi’s grandma’s. That kinda makes me emotional. Hashida: Emotional? You’re exaggerating. Sudou: Nah, I mean it. Remember how Hashi’s family often feeds my younger brothers and I, since our pop’s always busy with work? So to me chikuzenni at Hashi’s place is what I consider a mom’s home cooking. Hashida: Oh, right. The only family I have is my grandma, after all. I suppose this meal is a mom’s home cooking. I’ve never thought of it that way. Sudou: You better appreciate her more. Hashida: I do! I mean, I don’t feel lacking despite the absence of parents. I’ve never felt lonely just because grandma’s the only family that I have. Hey, now! Don’t make me say something embarrassing! Sudou: Ah, I see. Hmm. I somehow get it. Hashida: Well, in other words, we should be thankful for the love from people around us. Sudou: Whoa. The way you worded it just screams old person. Hashida: Huh? Really? That was unintentional. But right, recently I do feel like I am an old man. Sudou: Hehe. Just kidding. If anything, you no longer seem immature. It’s crazy if you still act the same when you’re a brat. Hashida: I hope you’re right.

13:53 Sudou: Actually, having chikuzenni while talking about the past with you makes me feel like I just time slipped to when we’re kids. Hashida: Hehe! You’re right. We really played hard back then. It’s impressive how we didn’t get sick of it, even though we lived in the countryside. Sudou: Yeah. Oh, I’m recalling things. You’re quite popular among the girls since you’re casually nice to them. Hashida: Really? I think that’s normal. Sudou: How is that normal? Plenty of girls asked me to pass love letters to you. It was so annoying. Hashida: Ahh, that happened, eh? Heck, don’t be annoyed over something petty! Sudou: Nah, it was so annoying. You said you wanted to focus on the club and stuff. Turning them down half-assed. You’re making it awkward even for me too! How annoying. Hashida: You..! In that case, I’ve got something to say too! Did you forget how I had to let you sit on the back seat of my bicycle simply ‘cus you can’t ride it yourself? You can’t do that until 8th grade! There should be a limit to how unathletic one could be! Sudou: Not 8th. 7th grade! Hashida: Nah, you were in 8th grade! It’d be a problem if you still cannot cycle ‘cus we’re gonna commute to a further place in high school so I accompanied you to practice. Remember? Sudou: That was the 7th grade. Definitely not the 8th. Hashida: It’s not important! Sudou: It is. This involves my good name. Hashida: Heh. As always, you’re so oddly stubborn. Whatever. Uh, ah! Hey, Akira! You’re spilling so much! Gosh. Use this to wipe. You never grow out of it. Sudou: Oh, sorry. Hashida: I guess you can’t help when you stop focusing. But why can’t you control your mouth? You’re old enough, it’s about time you fix that habit. Sudou: Uh, you’re right. Hashida: Oh, almost out of beer. Should I bring more? Sudou: Hashi, I think you’re more like a ma than a pops…

Thanks for reading!!!!! I had this in draft since march lol :’) I translated this just because?? As a practice? Out of whim? lol anyways. This franchise is seriously underrated so pleaseee check it out. I doubt anyone translates this anyway so I did it. I hope this post let seiyuu fans who weren’t aware discover something new. So far, I’ve no plan to continue translating… (there’s four seasons. It’s hella long and I don’t think I can do this voluntarily) but commission is always welcomed!! ❤

#mayonaka danshi meshi #uchiyama kouki #itou kento #ito kento #seiyuu #curry translates

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virgoilluminati · 1 year ago

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Belongings

Chapter 9 (part 1) : “Tell me what you want and you got it, love.”

(Series Masterlist)

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING MIA RECENTLY. If u have seen any of my posts you will know I basically have had a bad time with boys over the last couple of days and I’m just been in my feels. Not really in the mood for smut. BUT I’ve finally finished this chapter and tbf I actually kinda love it! Warning it’s A LOT shorter than the other chapters, but I thought it would be better to post a half finished chapter then no chapter at all. THIS IS THE FIRST CHAPTER WITH SMUT and warning I haven’t written it in a while so if it’s a bit off please don’t hate me. Anyways love u lots, thank you for sharing my Masterlist and hopefully u will enjoy :)

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (use a condom kiddos), female recieving. Dirty talk? Idk it’s just smutty and kinda fluffy.

Word count: 1.2K

As soon as the pair made there way back to their hotel, the last thing they wanted was to be stopped by a receptionist who was promoting there alll in one buffet in the morning.

“Oh sorry- I” Y/N apologised immediately letting go of Harry’s hand which had been wrapped the whole way walking home. Harry felt his heart sunk for a minute worried that he had done something wrong. But then he realised the receptionist knew who he was, and if she knew who he was, she also may well presume y/n was his girlfriend.

“No please, I should’ve asked you sooner. Normally we ask all guest on their arrival, but you came in late last night and were out before buffet was served today, we just want to make sure we have all of the allergen and preference information.” The receptionists continued, handing them both a form to fill in. Y/N and Harry both slightly groan, knowing deep down the longer this would take, the longer before they would be able to finally spend time with each other and confess the undying sexual desire between one another.

The longer they waited, Harry also feared, the more sober they would become, and perhaps y/n would regret her decision.

“Right, that’s it all completed on my end. “ Harry said quickly, knowing he didn’t have anything he was allergic too. And the only preference he had right now was y/n.

“Me too.” Y/N replied softly, looking quickly at the receptionist before looking back at Harry.

“Ah, nuts. Right-.” The receptionist responds, making an extensive note to his computer. Harry looked over to y/n confused to why he had never known about her nut allergy, but then again it did make sense why she never served any nut related products at her bakery.

“I won’t die if I have them. But I have an epi pen just in case I go into anaphylactic shock.” She responds, wincing as the words came over her mouth. It wasn’t exactly the most sexy thing to come out, especially in a moment like this.

“Right. That’s all good - a lot of our stuff is Nut free but, let us know in the morning if there is any issues. Sorry for interrupting and uh - enjoy your night.” The receptionist apologised, before opening the hotel door for the couple.

As soon as the door closes, Harry and Y/N burst into laughter unable to contain the tension any longer. “That’s not how I was expecting my night to go-.” Harry laughs, before looking over to y/n who was holding it in.

“Yes. Nut allergy isn’t very uh- sexy.” Y/N respond giggling before attempting to take on of her heels off. “Help.” She responds, leaning on Harry for some height as she slipped her heel off. Giggling, he leans down and before y/n can complain, he whisks her up into his arms, attempting to carry her up the stairs. “Harry what are you-“

“Shhhh, I’m trying to create the mood again-.” Harry whispers before glancing down at y/n’s boobs, which were now squashed up against his chest. “You little-“

“What-“

“Your staring at my tits.”

“No I’m not-“ Harry replied, his eyes suddenly focused on the wallpaper. “This wallpaper is very nice, cream I think-.” Y/N playfully rolls her eyes, before letting him to continue to carry her up the stairs. The whole time the sexual tension in the air began to increase, with y/n focused entirely on the large bulge beginning to stiffen in Harry’s trousers.

As soon as they stood outside Harry’s door, he slowly drops y/n down before the two look at each other with complete lust. Harry looks down at her boobs once again, but this time admiring her beauty as a whole.

“Your doing it again-“ Y/N responds, this time in a more subtle tone. Her lips begin to bite, as she begins to feel the bulge against her leg.

“To be fair, they’re some of the prettiest tits, I’ve ever seen. “ He responds his eyes entirely focused on reading y/n. Y/n playfully slaps him before, pulling him in for another kiss, their foreheads pressed together.

Harry couldn't understand why a woman so beautiful would choose to marry a man like Will. He found it puzzling and couldn't comprehend what qualities or attributes Will possessed that would make him an appealing partner for someone of such beauty. Harry wondered if there were hidden qualities or deeper connections between them that he was unaware of, as he struggled to see the apparent compatibility between their appearances and perceived personalities.

But right now, She was his. And his only.

“Harry, as much as I’d love to be all sexy and tease this all night long, I can’t- I need you.” Y/N responds, and without another word Harry picks y/n up, cradling her arse, before opening the door and throwing her onto the bed.

Y/N excited by this change in character begins to take her clothes off, as Harry shuts the door. Not wanting anyone to ruin his moment. However when he turns back around, he stops her, before looking sincerely in her eyes.

“Y/N, I - before we go any further. I need to make sure, you know we don’t have to do anything you don’t want too-.”

“I know Harry. I know. But I trust you. 100%. And I just want you to touch me.” She responds before beginning to unbutton his shirt. He looks at her genuinely, making sure there is no regret in her eyes, and once he is sure he has her consent, he forces her to stop once more.

“Harry - I told you. I’m fine- I-“ Harry doesn’t let her finish her sentence before he pushes her up against the bed frame, and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. “On your front.” He responds, almost ripping her dress completely.

Y/N moans in response turning over so her body is exposed, only constricted by her underwear. She was wearing a set of black lingerie. Her boobs heaving through the lace, whilst her panties, looked drenched from anticipation.

Right there and then Harry could feel himself explode. Numerous times he had imagined what she would look like undressed. But here, as she lay before him, completely under his spell, she couldn’t look ever more beautiful than before.

Y/N's bust is a prominent feature, displaying an ample and shapely size that adds an element of allure to her overall appearance. Her waistline is beautifully contoured, cinching in to create a striking hourglass shape that showcases her feminine curves. This captivating contrast between a smaller waist and curvier hips emphasizes her figure in an enchanting way.

The curves continue to captivate as they flow down to Y/N's hips. Her hips are delightfully wide and full, accentuating her lower body with elegance and grace. Along with her generous hips, Y/N may possess a fuller and rounded buttocks and thighs, contributing to the captivating allure of her curvy physique.

“What.” Y/N asks as Harry stands there smirking, his eyes full of joy. He wanted to tell her everything. How he was in love with her and that her physical beauty only further enhanced his inability to give her up to someone like Will. But he didn’t, instead he just placed a kiss gently on her lips, before beginning to cascade down to below her thighs.

“Your just beautiful, tha’s all.”

As Y/N heard Harry's words, her heart filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and validation. To be called beautiful by someone like Harry, who was known for his experiences with many women, held a special significance for her. It was a compliment that transcended the surface-level remarks she had received in the past.

Will, had often complimented her appearance, calling her pretty and appreciating her figure. While those compliments were undoubtedly appreciated, being called beautiful by Harry held a deeper resonance. It made Y/N feel seen and cherished for more than just her physical attributes.

“Harry-.” She moans as she feels his tongue teasingly taste her panties, hot air beginning to flow towards his thighs. Without another word, he bites hard on her underwear, ripping them down to the feet, allowing him more access to her body. “You’re so wet y/n. All for me?”

“All for you Harry, all for - fuck.” Before she can finish her sentence, Harry pushes her legs over his shoulders, allowing him to lick a long strip of her pussy. After getting a moan of approval, he begins to speed it up, allowing y/n to be all immersed.

Y/N could feel shock waves go through her body. She had had people go down on her before. But my gawd, no one else was able to do it the way he was doing it right now. Will had once attempted to do it, and well let’s just say, it was better left alone. Where’s Harry, was twirling his tongue along her clit, finding everything that would set off triggers in her body.

“Fuck Harry, your so good at that-.” She moans, as Harry grabs her boobs with one of his hands whilst the other held y/n in place, placing her constantly under the spell of his tongue.

Harry knew he was good at eating pussy. Which is why, seeing the women he loved completely undone with his tongue, made him feel like a fucking god. Here she was lying half naked, one hand on her other boob, whilst the other held onto the sheets, all immersed in allowing Harry to treat her right.

Harry begins to fasten up his movements, his motivation focused on collecting all of the juices which leaked from her pussy. Before placing one finger in her hole. Y/N hums in pleasure, feeling a similar sensation begin to boil in her stomach.

“Harry fuck-“ She responds, her hand suddenly tugging at the roots of his hair, needing the further friction on her body. He hums in response, his tongue never leaving her clit, constantly tormenting her release. His fingers begin to fasten up on hole, until he adds another.

“Harry, I’m fuck, I’m gonna -.” Before she can say anymore Harry begins fingering her rapidly, his tongue with none stop pace on her clit. He can feel her begin to burst, and to be next to her pussy as he does so, was nothing but stuff in fairytales.

With one big moan, y/n feels the release enter her body, her eyes looking up at the sky. She feels herself begin to shake, overwhelmed from the amount of pleasure, done just by the use of her tongue. “Fuck Harry- your good at that.”

Harry smirks again, before leaning over to bring her into a much deeper kiss, the taste of her pussy, sliding into her own mouth. Harry hums as he feels y/n begin to frantically pull down Harry’s shirt, and undo his belt. She was desperate to give something to him, to pay him back for what he did to her. But with a stern grab of her hands, Harry stops her.

“As much as I would love to see that pretty lips wrapped around my dick, if I wait any longer I think I’ll explode.” Harry responds, causing a desired reaction from y/n. In response she moves faster to take his jeans off, as Harry unattaches y/ns bra from her back, exposing two large breasts at his dismantle.

As soon as both Harry and Y/N were both naked, They stood at the end of the bed, y/n’s legs high up in the air, as Harry, let his dick slide into her. As soon as she felt comfortable, he began to fasten up his movements, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he would cum.

“Shit- You have no idea, how long I have wanted to do this-.” Harry grunts, his eyes rested only on y/ns, whose rose in anticipation.

“Fuck, Harry.” Y/N moans, feeling his dick completely open up her walls. The more he moved in and out of her the more, she realised that his dick, fit hers perfectly. And there was no one else who could live up to this pleasure-,”

“Look so pretty when you take my dick, don’t y’ princess.” Harry moans, his free hand going to grab ahold of her breast, the other fastening up his pace. Harry could feel his release coming, the louder y/n’s moaning became.”

“That’s it, princess. Tell everyone, who you belong to, who makes you feel this way.”

“Harry, I can feel it-.” Y/N moans, feeling her own high coming again closer and closer.

“Fuck-. Whose this body belong to-.” Harry asks, his eyes frozen on y/ns whimpering state. Y/N in pleasure dosen’t reply, still overwhelmed by this sudden change in Harry.

“Y/N, d’you hear me? Who does this body belong to?.”

“-Y-You.”

“I didn’t quite hear you there princess-“

“Y-you, y-you harry! Please cum for me. Let me take it-.” Y/N yells, allowing Harry to fully welcome his high, his cum spilling inside of her. As soon as he finished, y/n and Harry lie in a state of shock, unable to fully express what has just happened.

The pair lay there for about another 10 minutes, in a comfortable silence, realising that not only had they seen each other naked for the first time, but also they had just had sex. But both also knew, they did not regret it one bit.

“So…. That-“

“That was amazing. Haz. I don’t know what else to say-“ y/n sighs, her hand, placed firmly above her pillow. Harry hums in response before taking her hand, clutching it slightly and pulling the duvet over both of their bodies.

“You still don’t regret it?”

“Are you kidding, Harry, of all of the horrible things I have done to Will. This is not one of them. Y’know how long, it’s been since -“

“Oh, oh.”

“Yeah.” She giggles slightly, before Harry props himself on the pillow, his eyes suddenly filled with concern.

“Wait- shit, should I have done something more romantic. I had no idea, I just presumed, so you and Will never-.”

“No. We did. Once - it ended in disaster.” Y/N winces explaining how Will couldn’t get it up and then when he did, y/n had already fallen asleep from drinking too much prior. The story made her laugh, and Harry knew deep down, she was beginning to regret ever falling for Will in the first place.

“Your cute when you laugh.” Harry states randomly, placing a finger on her cheek. It startles y/n a bit, before she lets him continue, her eyes locked in his green pearls. “I hate my laugh.” She responds cringing.

“What? Why?!.” Harry sounded outraged that she let herself feel that way. He loved her laugh, the way her eyes would narrow and her little freckles would be crinkled.

“I don’t know. I just always have- it gives me wrinkles. I guess I've just always been self-conscious about it," Y/N admitted softly. “Unable to take her seriously Harry let’s put a loud laugh. “Y/N Y/L/N, you are too young for wrinkles.” He responds, caressing her cheek.

“Besides, wrinkles or not, your the prettiest girl I have ever met. And I know, this isn’t the way I hoped it would happen, but I am so happy that we finally found each other.” He responds admiring her natural beauty.

Y/N blushed at Harry's words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth in her chest. She couldn't help but smile at his laughter and the affectionate way he caressed her cheek. His words touched her deeply, and she realized how lucky she was to have him in her life.

She leaned in closer, resting her forehead against his. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The world felt still as they basked in each other's presence.

Harry smiled tenderly, his thumb gently tracing circles on her cheek. "You are beautiful, Y/N, you're perfect to me." They stayed like that for a while, savoring the intimacy of the moment. Y/N realized that her insecurities melted away in Harry's presence. His love and acceptance made her feel comfortable in her own skin.

“I will tell Will-.” Y/N responds immediately changing the mood to much more serious. “Mmm, do we have to mention that now, we were having a moment.” Harry winces realising the extent of what they had done.

Harry's expression turned serious as he understood the weight of Y/N's words. He knew they couldn't ignore the situation and needed to address it, even if it meant disrupting the wedding plans.

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "I've been holding onto something for far too long, and it's not fair to anyone involved," Y/N admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "I need to tell Will that I can't go through with the wedding because my heart belongs to you."

Y/N smiled gratefully at him, feeling a sense of reassurance in his presence. They both knew it wouldn't be an easy conversation, but it was necessary for everyone involved to find their happiness.

"We'll talk to him as soon as possible," Y/N said, determination lacing her words. "I want to be honest with him and give him the respect he deserves."

Harry nodded, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "And I'll be by your side every step of the way."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic rec #one direction #harry styles concept #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles x y/n #harrystylesxreader #harry styles x reader #harrystyles cute #harry styles smut #smut

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pedropascalunofficial · 1 year ago

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STORY TIME - THE FANDOM STAIN

My response to THIS post from stainsofpascal/thesweetestdecline earlier today

@thesweetestdecline

I am going to number these since you’re going to get tired.

1. FAKE IG ACCOUNT

You said I made a fake account in your name on IG? No. That fake stainsofpascal account isn't me. I'm in Ireland. We don't have Threads in Europe. And a VPN can't get around that. Please check your receipts before wasting all of our time with this bullshit narrative you're trying to deflect with.

2. LONG POSTS

You complained that my posts are long. That's because your bullshit is prolific. I don’t mess around. I like to give detailed accounts of what’s happening with receipts to back it up so ppl can clearly see what's going on in the fandom they're now ashamed to be part of. It's also to prevent ppl like you from deflecting by saying your accusers are "crazy" or "obsessed" with you. The receipts don't lie even though you’d like ppl to believe they do.

3. “BOT ATTACK” ON IG

You accused me of attacking you on IG? No. I haven’t done shit on IG. I haven’t attacked your stainsofpascal or thesweetestdecline accounts. You realise I’m just the loudest of many, many ppl who wonder why you're in the fandom?! Getting you suspended would only feed your need to be seen as an underdog. I’d rather watch all this play out as ppl wake up to your clout chasing. It's not me or my friends who will be your downfall. You'll manage that just fine by continuing your bullshit.

4. FOLLOWER COUNT ANOMALIES

You’re gas. Always playing the victim to deflect from your own misdeeds. Are you ever going to explain any of the unusual increases in follows or would you like us all to ignore the fact you can get 400 in a matter of hours and drop 500 the next day? Should we believe your version of accounts because you're...... an upstanding member of this community? Stop trying to compare your jumps in followers on your stainsofpascal IG account with other ppls. Your account numbers go up and down faster than a whores knickers on Paddy’s Day in Times Square. No one else has this but you and your dodgy minions who hid their dodgy numbers in a recent attempt to hide their ratios.

5. COME CLEAN

What have I done in this fandom? I'll admit it (again). I bought Pedro’s white pages and socials info via a website. That was stupid. I regret doing it. What was really stupid was that I shared some of it thinking it was for a laugh and your mate, (let's call her Ms Peacock) used it to trade with ppl across the fandom to gain clout and to gain more information about Pedro. I've tried to make amends but it's far too late as it snowballed into much bigger information getting traded. So to attempt to make amends, I decided to get closer to the psychos and report back. Shitty, I know, but at least the right ppl know about the stalking bullshit and Pedro can protect himself better.

6. MS PEACOCK AND STALKER REDDIT

After sharing his old info with you and Ms Peacock, I realised neither of you were looking into Pedro's old info just out of curiosity. You were tracking him and his friends around like they’re characters in a story. It’s my bad for not noticing the crazy when it was staring me in the face. I shared info which was traded from person to person in exchange for info that has been used to help Ms Peacock not just stalk Pedro online but get physically closer to him. First, driving past his old house and now, three years later, she’s living "#twoblocksaway" from his gym according to a recent post. Zero shame.

I shouldn't be surprised since she used to frequent his actual neighbourhood even though it was a three hour round trip from her town. Before all that, she told us she used his personal email for a project where a group of us had raised money to adopt an elephant for his birthday. I never did get the info on the elephant since she dipped on the group chat after getting what she wanted. Ms Peacock traded info some of us had given her with others in turn for more info and clout. Just like a fandom Gollum. We didn’t realise that stuff we shared was being traded so it could be added to in order to feed her need to feel near him and grow her influence here. You’ve been part of supporting that behaviour too. When Ms Peacock asked you to find out where Pedro was one day, you went straight to the airline staff and lied about possibly being on the flight in an attempt to get the flight details. You ran right back and gave her what you had. I hope you realise we’ve all been played. Some of us learned our lesson and tried to be better but you stayed with her and you guys took it to another level. When you ran out of info, you created a stalker reddit where you share info you gather through lies and deceit with some real psychos in the fandom. I hadn't realised what I fed into until I saw the levels you guys cranked it up to. Now I see what a bit of info in the wrong hands can snowball into. I have a lot of regret about that. (I also have receipts)

Do you regret being part of that? Have you even stopped tracking him?

7. CHASING CLOUT

Some of us did some of the stuff you continue to do but we woke up and realised this shit isn't a game. YOU and your shitty friends levelled up and are fucking with ppls lives. You treat him like shit for clout and not because you want him to be a successful human being. You need to grow up and admit that to yourself. Impossible though right?! Coz then you might lose clout. That is why you're here right?!

If it's not, then why?

TO CREATE COMMUNITY?

I've seen screenshots of your IG posts and what type of community you're cultivating in your comments. Ppl who shit on Pedro's career, his sexuality, his physical appearance, and you've collected a fine assortment of fandom psychos all sharing your posts. You feed them with likes even when their comments are hate filled. Ppl have noticed.

TO STALK PEDROS FRIENDS?

You've posted about contacting Pedro's friends through social media. Going so far as to add trackers to your Tumblr and watch their online status on Instagram. (I’ve got receipts)

TO INTERFERE PEDROS FRIENDS?

You’ve admitted reaching out to Pedro’s old friends. They’re said they’ve unknowingly given information to stalkers they've had to add extra layers of security to their social media. They aren’t there to be used as “sources” during playtime. (I’ve got receipts)

TO STALK PEDRO?

You guys contact his friends, hotel and airline staff for more info on his whereabouts. (I’ve got receipts) If that's not stalking then what do you call it?

TO SUPPORT PEDRO?

Pedro is the punchline of your account. You encourage ppl to drag him by liking their hate filled comments. What’s that about? It would be cute if you weren’t also stalking him but publicly negging the fuck out of you’re victim is a bit tasteless, no?

8. OBSESSED

You say I'm "obsessed" with you and you've "done nothing to my friends"? No, try, a lot of other ppl in the fandom and I are sick of your holier than thou act when we’ve seen you abuse and attack ppl competing accounts who did nothing to you. You can't fuck up ppls lives and expect to skip off into the sunset. You do shitty things, refuse to acknowledge them and continue to be the best example of what's wrong with this fandom and why it has the reputation it does.

9. WHY DO I "COME FOR YOU"?

I challenge you because you came at others first and like magic, shit hit the fan for them.

Early on you were copying Aude’s style of posting. It's undeniable that your posts were very similar. No one really cared but ppl talked about it in forums and someone sent an anon to @pedrohub who decided to post it for some reason🤔. You decided to attack her in a reblog and accuse her "friends" of sending poorly spelled hate. Then you gaslight her all because she had....stopped liking your posts as much as before. Like wtf?

Then you blamed Arte for hateful anons you were getting. You said it was her because she had blocked you. You said it was definitely she because she's from Ohio (btw Arte doesn’t talk about being from Ohio so how did you know that?), ignoring the fact another fan is from Ohio and is well known in the fandom to send vicious hateful anons (let's call her Wendys License-Plates Girl). You didn't like Artes reason for disliking you and your account. She blocked you so she just didn’t have to see you. She had never said anything bad about you at that point. You produced screenshots of conversations which were had after you accused her but you ran with them as your "evidence" that she had it out for you in dms and was directing a campaign of hate against you. When nothing came of that, you then blamed her for getting you blocked by Sebastiano Mauri because you.....liked her dog pic? Again wtf. There's a trend brewing here.

You created these monsters in your head and you took your anger out on unsuspecting fan accounts. Meanwhile, you were posting shit ppl just weren't feeling and stalking SM in dms. You were tracking him and baiting him to speak to you so you could see his activity tracker in IG. I was the one who got you blocked for your fucking stalker bullshit coz you bragged about it.

You blamed Arte and Aude for bullshit you made up in your paranoid mind. You were told they were innocent by the person you suspectdd of ratting you out but you chose to doggedly go after both of THEM AND NOT ME. Talking shit in dms with whoever would listen. Spinning your usual holier than thou victim routine.

Now, let’s see….

Who has magically lost their account – pascalisfrenchpunk

Who has magically received a death threat – artedepascal (also runs mh_creatives on IG)

Who was bore witness to your bullshit, Known to be friends with Aude and Arte, Known to have connections to get info to Pedro?

Me.

Why didn’t you ever target me since you had vague posted about me being a rat? You knew I got kicked out of the stalker reddit once the Fleetwoods-rumours blog got published for the guys to read.

But...

I don't use IG so I guess you didn't see me as a threat to your clout chasing on there. You only went for ppl with competing IG accounts because all you want is to be noticed by Pedro and to be the Queen Clout Chaser of the fandom.

NO ONE WAS RUNNING A CAMPAIGN OF HATE BUT I SURE WAS COLLECTING A COLLAGE OF YOUR BULLSHIT TO HELP YOUR VICTIMS.

If you have missed who the fans are that are giving this fandom a reputation for being psychos, please see the Story Time series (so far) below✌️

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #storytime #ms peacock #ms green #col mustard #thesweetestdecline #stainsofpascal #themandadlorianbod #a7estrellas #stalker reddit #pascalisfrenchpunk #artedepascal #reddit #story time #pedro pascal stalker #deuxmoi #pedro pascal deuxmoi

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narancias-headband · 7 months ago

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A big announcement...

Hi everyone! Very long time, no see.

I've gone through and cleaned things up around here a good bit, deleting old posts and fixing up my masterlist again. You might have seen some posts as I fix things up around here.

But the short and sweet version of this post is...

I'm coming back to this blog!!

It's going to be a decent bit different than before, but I do want to write and share my thoughts with you all again. :)

An important note! I will no longer taking 'requests', but I'd love some inspiration from everyone! I'm not going to hold myself to write anything that doesn't seem right for me. Feel free to send in requests/ideas for inspiration, and please do not be offended if I never get to them! I promise, I'm not judging! Some brief rules on what to ask for are here in my pinned post (they're mostly the same as before haha).

A very LONG rambling update under the cut for anyone wondering what in the world I've been up to.

So... A lot has changed in the past few years here... It's been like a year since y'all have heard from me... Mainly, my hyperfixation on JoJo's went away for a while. So that's my brain's fault haha. I've done this a few times with a few blogs, so I guess I was expecting to drop it sooner or later. What I didn't expect was how much I miss this blog (believe me, I have no regrets on my old blog deaths).

I've been watching JoJo's with a dear friend of mine lately, and the need to write has been stirring again. And then we hit Part 5... My brain was shifted back into fanfic mode instantly. I saw Formaggio and remembered my dear husband. I went and read through so much of my old stuff and remembered how much fun I used to have writing. I'm already working on a few new things, and a few old things, but I'm in no rush.

Which relates to some of the changes I'm hoping to make here. In all honesty, I did a lot here for the attention of people and the approval of the fandom. And that is not sustainable! No wonder I had writing burnout so much... I'm not planning to take as many requests anymore, and I will be much more focused on creating things that make me happy than anything else. Hopefully others enjoy it anyway :)

So... What have I been up to? My life has been taking lots of unexpected twists and turns. My, not entirely intentional, unemployment has opened up some free time to get back to things I enjoy. And I will never let a job take over my life like that again. Good news is, I'm working on my mental health and I finally feel creative again! I want to write and draw and think and I actually have the energy for it!

I've been very lost in the awful job market lately, and being at home alone all day isn't the most thrilling, but even just the minor things I've been doing behind the scenes on this blog have made me feel great. It's a bit more fulfilling than just playing Fortnite all day 😅

And me? I've grown up a lot lately. Working through mental issues, focusing on myself and my happiness, making changes for the better. Which is the main reason I really want to come back! This blog made me so happy and that's my main goal lately. I'm back into JJBA hardcore, I've become a Fortnite kid, and my love of Pokémon has come back in full force. And I have a new pretty gaming PC to sit and write at and the more I use it the more it's worth the $1500 I spent on it.

Oh, and one last thing... For better or worse, I've pretty much ended up a functional stoner. 😅 Probably expect more headcanons about getting high with diff characters that will be way better than the goofy ones I wrote way back when.

#i wanted to boop a bunch of people to signal my return but my dumbass didn't realize it was an april fools thing oof #to the one person i booped ily lmao #anyway... hello again everyone! glad to be back :)#ill probably reblog this tomorrow cuz im posting late woof

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fatalfangirl · 2 years ago

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Hi everyone! It's now past midnight so happy Thursday 😅 I'm still suffering a bit from jet lag after being in Japan last week, but getting better adjusting.

No writing happened in Japan, but I have poked at my doc for ch 2 of More Than Friends and do feel pretty confident I can wrap it up this weekend for posting. I've said this before, but I'm the type of writer who tends to really fiddle with scenes and make a number of tweaks between the first and final draft. So here's an example of that from his latest MTF chapter. Gets kind of long, so I'll put it under the cut.

But first! Thank you for the tags today @whatevertheweather, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @shrek-gogurt, @johnwgrey, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @hushed-chorus, @artsyunderstudy, @whogaveyoupermission, @facewithoutheart, and @martsonmars. And to everyone who tagged me on Sunday and last week!

It's late so at this point please consider yourselves tagged for Sunday and throwing in some hellos to @creepyspice, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, and @captain-aralias.

Okay! Here we have an example of first draft to current state. A few weeks ago I shared this snippet from Baz's POV:

“Baz? You home?” He turns the living room light on and swings around into the kitchen. “You are.”

“I am.” His shirt is on inside out and his bottom lip looks swollen.

“What are you doing in the dark?”

“Regretting not buying ice cream.”

His face splits into a grin as he lifts the plastic bag in his hand. “Regret no more.”

My entire body sags. “Did you really?”

“Chocolate chip for my basic Grimm bitch.”

I snatch the bag and look inside to confirm it’s not all a heat stroke fever dream.

I wrote this originally thinking chapter 1 was going to be much longer and include Baz's POV instead of Simon only. And I'm happy I split Baz off from the Simon POV because if forced me to spend more time with him and really figure out his relationship with Simon/feelings towards him. As a result of sitting with Baz more, I felt like the original snippet above was way too chipper/open. In this scene, Simon (who Baz is obviously in love with because when is he not?) just got home after fucking some rando and Baz knows it. No amount of sweet little actions from Simon is going to remove that knowledge. So the scene evolved to:

“Baz? You home?” Simon calls out, voice loud in the stillness. He turns on the living room light and swings around into the kitchen. “You are.”

“I am.” His shirt is on inside out and his bottom lip looks swollen. There’s a hickey on his neck. If I hadn’t stopped Michael, I would have had one in the same spot. We would have matched.

“What are you doing in the dark?”

“Regretting not buying ice cream.”

His face splits into a grin as he lifts the plastic bag in his hand. “Regret no more.”

I stare at him, processing, then snatch the bag and look inside to confirm it’s not all a heat-stroke fever dream. It isn’t. I can feel the cold radiating from the carton.

He got me my favorite.

“Chocolate chip for my basic Grimm bitch,” he says in a little sing-song tune, still smiling like he knows he’s a good boy.

But then my gaze catches on his lip, his neck, and I remind myself he’s been bad.

#my fic #wip wednesday #we're going behind the fic into the evolution of my wip 😅#this is why i'm slow slow to post things

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stillyour-sweetheart · 10 months ago

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Haii your blog is amazing and reading your posts about heartbreak is helping me get through my own right now. I was in a situationship for almost a yr and it’s really left my heart in pain and my mind confused (I never wanted a situationship but he was emotionally unavailable). Sometimes I feel so low about myself because I know I deserved so much better and I think about how someone could’ve treated me so horribly, but tbh your heartbreak posts help me feel understood and remind me that I’m not alone, so thank u for being so genuine and for providing a comfort space for me ^.^ :’)

Hello there!! ☺️🩷

Thank you so much for liking my blog and for taking your time to scroll through it, it means a lot to me! ;___;

Ah… situationships… I’ve been in a couple myself and yes, it definitely hurts. There are so many emotions that result from being in one and for letting yourself stay even if you know you’re miserable, not getting what you KNOW you deserve, feeling constantly confused and exhausted, etc. I think it’s easy to be hard on ourselves when we look back at what we could’ve/should’ve done (hindsight is 20/20 remember). But tbh being critical on ourselves isn’t very helpful in the healing process. As cliché as it may sound, you have to love yourself into healing. You have to fill the cup that’s been empty for a while. Everyone goes through different stages in their lives. Please don’t be ashamed, guilty, or embarrassed for what you’ve gone through lately. It’s all a part of the learning process in the grand scheme of things (even if that sounds a bit cold to say / easier said than done). Be gentle with yourself and nurture your heart. Take from your situationship what you can from it. Milk out as many lessons as you can and assign purpose to your pain.

I know how much it hurts to not have these things work out even if you did your best in loving them… it makes you feel so hopeless and wonder, ‘what was so wrong with me that it didn’t work/that they didn’t want me?’ I see your pain. But just know that one person’s inability to choose you is not a reflection of your love, but a reflection of their poor decision-making skills and lack of desire to grow. Be proud that you loved and are loving, because that in itself is so hard and scary to do. You were amazing before them, and you are still amazing now even if you don’t feel like it. You inspire others just by being you and I say that because even though you’re hurting, you’re still able to share light and positivity to a stranger like me. That takes an enormous amount of strength and a heart full of love and warmth. I’m lucky to experience it. :)

I hope you continue to enjoy my blog! And yes, you are never alone! I hope things will get better for you in time. Take all the time you need to process your feelings. Never be ashamed of feeling bad or for loving them and or continuing to love them. To love with such a heart of gold is rare and I feel sorry that they let someone like you go. They’ll surely regret it.

Again, take all the time you need and be gentle with yourself. Take care. ❤️

#ask #anon #reply #nice anon

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frombirkhallwithlove · 2 years ago

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So I noticed on your wife’s blog that she mentioned that you also associate Taylor Swift songs with Charles and Camilla so I was wondering which ones you thought are most like them??

Thanks so much for this wonderful and inspiring question! In fact, I think that quite a lot of Taylor songs could actually be written for / about Their Majesties (they most certainly aren't but I think they "pitch perfect"). A couple of months ago, I started a little something I haven't posted anywhere yet but I'm happy to share it here (and please do let me know what you think! 🥰)

Charles & Camilla's love story in quotes from Taylor Swift songs...

"We were both young when I first saw youI close my eyes and the flashback startsI'm standin' there..."

~ Love Story (obviously 🥰)

"And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us. He's in the club doing, I don't know what"

~ Gorgeous (Camilla about Andrew... I mean he IS older then them 😅 and I'm afraid the second part was just like that as well...)

"Walked in expecting you'd be late

But you got here early and you stand and wave

I walk to you

You pull my chair out and help me in

And you don't know how nice that is

But I do

And you throw your head back laughing

Like a little kid

I think it's strange that you think I'm funny, 'cause

He never did

I've been spending the last eight months

Thinking all love ever does

Is break and burn, and end

But on a Wednesday in a cafe

I watched it begin again"

~ Begin Again (because Charles treated her so much better than A. and sadly she hadn't only spent eight months but in fact five years with him at that point 👀)

"And I don't know why

But with you I'd dance in a storm

In my best dress

Fearless"

~ Fearless (for when Camilla found herself in love with the Prince of Wales... )

"But you know what they say, you can't help who you fall for

And you and I fell like an early spring snow

But reality crept in, you said we're too different"

~ I bet you think about me (for when they split (?) in December 1972 and Charles left to join the Navy... I do indeed bet they thought about each other all the time... 🥺)

"It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you

Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright

I go back to December all the time"

~ Back to December (for when Camilla realised that A. wasn't going to change even after their wedding and she might or might not have started to regret going back to him after Charles joined the Navy in December (!!!) of the previous year 💔

"It's nice to have a friend..."

~ obviously 🤭 (for the time they rekindled their friendship after she had married A.)

"And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite"

~ Cardigan (because he still managed to make her happy and feel good about herself while A. still treated her... well, the way the did...)

"And when we've had our very last kiss

My last request is

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams"

~ Wildest dreams (before he married his first wife 😭)

"She floats down the aisle like a pageant queen

But I know you wish it was me

You wish it was me

Don't you?

Don't say yes, run away now

I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door

Don't wait, or say a single vow

You need to hear me out

And they said, "Speak Now""

~ Speak Now (if only I could go on a time traveller and do exactly that on a certain day in July '81)

"You've got a smile that can light up this whole town

I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down..."

~ You belong with me (... 😔)

"She said "James, get in, let's drive"

Those days turned into nights

Slept next to her, but

I dreamt of you all summer long"

~ Betty (for when he realised he still loved her 😭)

"'Cause there we are again when I loved you so

Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known

It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well"

~ All too well (for when they finally got back together ❤️)

"Make sure nobody sees you leave

Hood over your head, keep your eyes down

Tell your friends you're out for a run

You'll be flushed when you return

Take the road less traveled by

Tell yourself you can always stop

What started in beautiful rooms

Ends with meetings in parking lots"

~ Illicit affairs (for obvious reasons, around the late 80s/ early 90s

"Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it

My love

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

And we run

Baby, I know places we won't be found and

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide"

~ I know places (for back when they could only meet at "safe houses" from a handful of friends 🥺)

"And your secrets end up splashed on the news front page [...]

Another name goes up in lights

You wonder if you'll make it out alive"

~ The Lucky One (for 1993... 😭💔)

"My castle crumbled overnight

I brought a knife to a gunfight

They took the crown, but it's alright

All the liars are calling me one

Nobody's heard from me for months"

~ Call it what you want (for when Camilla more or less had to go into "lockdown" following the "revelations" 😔 Glad they did NOT take the crown, though)

"I've been under scrutiny

You handle it beautifully

All this shit is new to me

I feel the lavender haze creepin' up on me

Surreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal, the 1950s shit they want from me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze"

~ Lavender Haze (for the mid-90s)

"'Cause baby, I could build a castle

Out of all the bricks they threw at me

And every day is like a battle

But every night with us is like a dream"

~ New romantics (mid-/late 90s)

"Seems like there's always someone who disapproves

They'll judge it like they know about me and you

And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do

The jury's out, but my choice is you

So don't you worry your pretty, little mind

People throw rocks at things that shine

And life makes love look hard

The stakes are high, the water's rough

But this love is ours"

~ Ours (for when they finally "went public" from 1999 onwards 🥰❤️

"Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone

I keep waiting for you, but you never come

Is this in my head? I don't know what to think

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said, "Marry me, Juliet

You'll never have to be alone

I love you and that's all I really know

I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes""

~ Love Story, for when he finally asked her and she agreed 😍😍😍😭

"But in your life you'll do things

Greater than dating the boy on the football team

But I didn't know it at fifteen"

~ Fifteen (because I think our darling girl really had no idea that she was going to do MUCH greater things in her life than dating/marrying a certain Cavalry Officer even at 25... and probably not even at 57, when she finally married her Prince 🤭)

"I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight"

~ Daylight (because she was finally married to the love of her life and slowly but surely began to discover her potential and became more and more confident in her role 🥰)

"Stick with me, I'm your Queen."

~ London Boy (for when destiny fulfilled itself and she did become his Queen... 🥺😭)

"Long live the walls

We crashed through

How the kingdom lights shined

Just for me and you

I was screaming long live

All the magic we made

And bring on all the pretenders

One day we will be remembered"

~ Long Live (because the kingdom lights will shine for them on May 6th 😍😍😍)

#queen camilla #king charles iii #coronation #taylor swift

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