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queen-of-the-avengers · 5 months

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Bleeding Heart Syndrome

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: angst, bucky kills someone, implied smut

Summary: Deciding to give this another try, you want to prove to yourself that Bucky is more than just the murderer you know him to be. He takes you to his work to show you that he runs a business like any normal person. However, when someone makes one wrong comment, you're reminded why your heart bleeds because of him.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: no modesty (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Then

It didn’t matter how many dates you and Bucky went on, you were still nervous to have him over. You decided to bring him over to your house for a homemade dinner. Your mother taught you how to make a delicious pasta dish that you were just dying for Bucky to try.

Bucky pulled up to your house with Steve and Sam in the car. Bucky checked the time for the tenth time since leaving his mansion. Living this double life was getting too hard to conceal. You were getting closer to him and asking all these questions that he couldn't answer. He was trying so hard to keep you in the dark, but how long could he do this?

Sooner of later, his past was going to catch up to him.

“Should we follow you up?”

“No,” Bucky sighed. “Just stay out here.”

Bucky got out, walked up to your door, and knocked. You jumped from the sudden noise but rushed over to the door. You opened it to see Bucky standing there looking drop-dead gorgeous.

“Right on time,” you smiled and let him in.

“Is something burning?”

“Shit.”

You left his side and ran to the kitchen. You yanked the pan off the stove and checked on the vegetables in there.

“Need help?”

“Actually, yes. My mom taught me this recipe but I never said I was good at cooking it,” you chuckled.

Bucky shed off his jacket only to drape it over the back of the chair. His muscles bulged in the tight shirt he was wearing. Forget dinner. You wanted him. Bucky took over the process and made it his own despite you telling him how your mom made it.

“Check on the noodles.”

You took a single strand of noodle and threw it at the wall. It stuck to it like it was glue.

“It’s ready,” you grinned.

After draining the noodles, you poured them into the pot that had the sauce. The noodles flowed over as a bunch so that they splattered inside, causing the sauce to spray out. You gasped when it touched your neck and Bucky smiled when he saw a red drop on his white sleeve.

“I am so sorry,” you giggled.

Bucky pulled you close and leaned down to press his lips on your neck. He licked a stripe up your skin to gather the sauce. Your giggle turned into a moan when you felt his lips latch onto your skin.

“No fair, Bucky,” you moaned. He nibbled on your skin right over the spot where you needed him the most. “Wait, the food needs to go in the oven.”

Bucky pulled away and quickly placed the dish into the oven at the right timer. He turned to you and grabbed your waist so he could sit you on the counter. He leaned in again but you backed away before his lips could touch yours.

“Wait, we only have thirty minutes before the food is done.”

Bucky tilted his head to the side and did some math in his head.

“Six times.”

“What?”

“I can make you come six times before the oven goes off.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything as he whisked you away to the bedroom.

Now

You open your eyes and see that it’s not a dream; Bucky found you and took you to one of his mansions. Being back here will mess with your head in a way that makes you think you’re not going to survive this. Still, you get out of bed and push down those feelings. You don’t want to feel this way. You want to be able to love him and go on dates without fearing what will happen if someone bad crosses your path.

You want to love him in the way you deserve but you’re not sure how.

Someone is cooking something delicious in the kitchen, and your stomach rumbles to let you know that it wants food. You put a cardigan on and head downstairs to the kitchen where a chef is cooking breakfast. You must have passed by ten of Bucky’s men, all armed and ready for anything that might come their way.

This makes you feel like you’re in a prison, not someone’s home. Will you ever feel at home here?

“Here you go, Miss Y/N,” the chef says and slides you a plate of food.

“Not hungry,” you sigh and push it away.

“Eat.”

You look to the left and see Bucky walk into the kitchen dressed in a suit. However, his white shirt is untucked and open revealing his toned stomach and chest that you love so much. His tie is slung over his shoulders and his hair is damp from his shower. He is practically half-naked in front of his own chef and men. This man has no modesty.

“You’re not my dad.”

Bucky pours himself a cup of coffee before turning to face you. He doesn’t take his eyes off you as he finishes getting ready. Your eyes follow his fingers as they work their way down his shirt. He tucks his shirt in and begins working on his tie next, and you snap your eyes up to his.

“I’m not in the mood to argue. Eat.”

“No.”

Bucky finishes with his tie before walking over to you. He is so intimidating while standing but with you sitting down next to him, it’s almost impossible not to shrink back into your seat like a little kid.

“You can be pissed at me all you want but you’re not skipping out on a meal. Eat.”

“Or what? You’ll force me?”

Time seems to slow down the longer he stares at you. Then, he grabs your jaw not super tightly before forcing your mouth open.

“Yes.”

You push him away and grab the fork to show him you’re complying with his request. He waits until you take two bites before leaving your side to tend to his coffee. Damn, these eggs are soft and fluffy.

“Happy?”

“I have to go work,” he says instead of answering your question. “I’ll be back later.”

“Off to kill someone?”

“I do own a business, you know,” Bucky sighs. “A business that will crumble if I’m not there.”

“Can I go with you?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

“You want to come with me?”

“Yeah. It beats being alone in this house with a bunch of strange men with large guns.”

“There are many more are work.”

“Will you let me come or not?” you sigh.

“Go get dressed,” he says after a beat, “after you finish eating.”

You quickly down the rest of your food before heading to your room to get dressed. Bucky waits patiently for you to finish before escorting you to one of his luxurious cars. He keeps the music low and maintains a reasonable speed. For someone who murders people, you’d think he’d want to speed all the time. No, he’s too busy thinking about you and driving carefully in order to protect you.

You might think he’s a monster but he’s never stopped loving you.

When Bucky arrives at his skyscraper of a building, he leads you inside with a hand low on your back. The receptionist sees him and flashes him a flirtatious smile. She subtly fixes her dress to make her boobs stand out, and you glare at her as you pass by.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes.”

“Good morning, Tate.”

He keeps it simple without so much as a look at her but that doesn’t stop her from trying to gain his attention. She looks at you and almost shrinks back into her seat from the glare you’re giving her. You two step onto the elevator and begin the journey to the top floor.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” you ask and look at him.

“You’re giving her the same look you gave every woman who tried to flirt with me. Remember that poor girl you made cry on our second date?”

“Shut up,” you snap. “There is no look.”

If you could, you’d wipe that smirk right off his face. Thankfully, he drops it for now. The higher you go, the more men with large guns there are. Bucky wasn’t kidding before. You know what kind of work he’s involved in but how much protection does one man need?

“I’m in meetings for most of the morning but you’re more than welcome to stay in here. My computer password is pisică.”

“Of course it is,” you laugh humorlessly.

“If you need anything, I am only down the hall.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Bucky resists the urge to go over to you and kiss you. You’ll come around and he just needs to be patient. As soon as he leaves the room, you walk over to the giant window that overlooks the entire city. Damn, he has such a nice view. You take in his office and notice personal pictures on his desk.

All of them are of you. There is one with you two standing in front of a mirror with his hand around your throat. You thought it would be a good picture at the time. You had just taken three shots before going to dinner so you thought this picture was a good idea. Another one is of you at the beach he took you to. He bought it out so that you two could enjoy some privacy and he caught you soaking up as much sun as you possibly can. The third one is of you laughing because you had pulled a prank on Bucky and he couldn’t miss an opportunity to snap a photo of your smile.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you taste salt on your lips. You were so happy in these pictures. This was before you knew what Bucky did. This was before reality slapped you in the face. You’re not sure what to do but you know how you feel. You love him so damn much but you’re hating yourself for loving a murderer.

You sit at his desk and log into his computer. He must not have anything incriminating on his computer if he’s going to let you snoop without him in here. All this power but you’re not going to snoop in places you don’t belong in. He trusts you and after all this time, you’re not going to let that break.

Instead, you go to Amazon and smirk when you see what’s floating around in your cart. If Bucky is so rich, he won’t mind if you spend a few thousand dollars on shit you want but don’t need. It’s not like he’s going to miss the money.

Bucky’s phone pings at a notification from his bank. Someone spent over five thousand dollars on Amazon, and he smirks when he realizes you’re out there spending his money. You might be doing it to spite him but he loves it when you spend his money. He confirms the purchase through a text message before returning his attention to the many men inside the conference room.

Some of the men are involved with different mafia’s from around the country, some men are CEOs of different businesses, and some men are important in their perspective fields. All of them are interested in the weapons Bucky sells. He’s become so successful that he delivers to everyone across the country. They all flock to him like cattle.

“Gentlemen, I have an epo coming up soon in New York that will showcase the weapons I have for purchase. Of course, you’re more than welcome to come but the price is set. NO discoounts will be given.”

That sends some of the men in an uproar. They’ve been doing business with him for years and they’re still treated like first-time customers.

“Come on, Buck, don’t you think you’re being a bit unreasonable with your prices?” One of the Mafia men, Antonio, asks.

“You’re more than welcome to go somewhere else. Oh, wait, you can’t. I’m the only one with the shit you want so take it or leave it.”

Antonio shuts up knowing he can’t take Bucky on right now. Instead of fighting him, he leans back in his chair and stares at Bucky. The meeting continues on for another two hours as they discuss the weapons expo and Bucky’s telecommunicaiton sector that sells privacy for computers. Bucky looks at his watch and sees it’s almost lunch time so he decides to address one more thing before concluding this meeting.

“One last thing before this meeting is done.” He looks at one of the men who is one of the best drug lords in the couontry. “Race, tell your men to stay the fuck out of my goddamn bar. They’re brewing up trouble.”

“I can’t stop my men from going where they want to go,” Race shrugs.

“Maybe if one of them has a bullet in their heads, you’ll ge tthe message.”

Race rolls his eyes but knows better than to argue with Bucky. Before anyone can say anything, someone knocks on the door. Everyone turns their heads to you when you open the door and steps inside.

“Oh, sorry,” you sutter.

You turn to leave but Bucky stops you.

“Come here, pisică.” You walk further into the room and try to ignore all the stares you’re getting from the men. Bucky hates that they’re all looking at you like you’re a piece of meat but he doesn’t start a fight he knows he will win. Antonio keeps his eyes on your ass longer than the rest of them, making Bucky’s blood boil. When you get to him, he pulls you inot his lap despite the blush on your cheeks.

“Never be sorry for being where I am. What do you need?”

“I’m hungry,” you whisper, hoping no one else can hear him. “I wanted to go out and get lunch.”

“Take Steve with you.”

You look into his blue eyes in thought. You don’t tell him that you wanted to go out to lunch with him. Instead, you nod and get off his lap.

“Cute girl you got there, Barnes,” Antonio chirps. “You gonna pass her around or what?”

You freeze in your step, clearly uncomfortable with his comment. Before, Bucky was willing to let his wandering eyes slide. Now, he’s a dead man.

“Take Steve with you to lunch. Go,” Bucky says to you.

Thankfully, you don’t argue with him. As soon as you close the door behind you, you hear the clear sound of a gunshot. If his comment made you freeze, you’re fucking rock soldi now. Still, you peek into the room through the small window on the door. Antonio is slumped over in his chair with blood splattered on the wall behind him. He’s dead. Bucky killed him. You look up and lock eyes with Bucky who still holds the smoking gun.

He hates that you’re crying because of him.

You immediately turn and run from the room to where the elevators are. You barely get on when you hear Bucky’s voice call for you. You turn to him with tears running down your cheeks.

“No, I’m fine, Bucky. I shouldn’t have expected anything different.”

“I wasn’t going to let him live after what he said.”

The elevator doors start to close but you put your hand out to prevent them from doing so.

“That’s the problem with you, Bucky. Your immediate response to everything is death. I shouldn’t have come here. You should return to your meeting. I’ll have lunch alone.”

You let go of the elevator doors and continue to stare at him until the doors closing breaks your eye contact. Your heart is breaking because he is the best thing to have ever happened to you, but how can you ever get past something like this?

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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adrienneleclerc · 7 months

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Hips Don't Lie part 2

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Y/N invites Henry Cavill to a carne asada after a month of dating

Warning: probably some stereotypical Latina/Mexican things because I'm half Mexican, no translated Spanish, unwanted comments from an aunt about weight (for me it’s with my mom) and about Henry, spelling and grammar errors

After a month of dating, Henry and Y/N were at his place, they were cooking tallarines saltado. Everything was going well and Y/N got a text.

“Give me a minute, guapo.” Y/N said, washing her hands to check her phone. It was a text from her mom. “Hey Henry, how do you feel about going to a carne asada? It’s this weekend, I know it’s a little soon to be meeting my parents, but I really don’t want to go alone.”

“Darling, it’s fine, I’ll go with you to the barbecue.” Henry said. He put the cut up steak into a pan to cook it along with the onions and tomatoes. “Why don’t you want to go alone?”

“Because my mom and my aunts are all going to be like ‘y el novio?’ Like I’m 32, not married or engaged, in their eyes…something is wrong. So please, my handsome British boyfriend, come with me to the carne asada.” Y/N practically begged, having her hands together in a praying motion.

“Yes, my tiny dancer, I’ll go to the carne asada.” Henry said, kissing her forehead and she was pouting with her arms crossed.

“I am not tiny, You’re just big.” Y/N said and her eyes widened at the last part of her sentence.

“In more ways than one.” Henry winked and kissed her. “Do we have to bring anything?” Y/N looked at him in a ‘are you kidding me’ kind of way. “Sorry, what are we bringing?”

“That’s better, and that depends. My mom usually makes her agua de Jamaica which is hibiscus water, don’t ask how it got the name, and red rice. Obviously my uncles bring the meat, um, I’m thinking, someone usually brings dessert which is like fruit salad and cookies, uh, carajo, no puedo pensar. Okay, I got it, we can make alfajores and picarones, mainly because I crave it.” Y/N said,

“What about really food? Should we bring macaroni salad?” Henry asked

“Never in my life have I ever seen macaroni salad at these carne asadas (I’m using my own experiences, obviously). We could make pasta though and like that we could eat some before we go and the rest we take it there.” Y/N said.

“Why would we eat before we go to the carne asada if we’re going to eat there?” Henry asked.

“Ay, amorcito, there’s so much You need to learn. Just in case there’s something you don’t like, and they never really start grilling right when you come in, it’s usually an hour after everyone’s there so you won’t be starving.” Y/N said.

“Alright, I’ll make the list so we can go shopping tomorrow. Now, I know this is going to be a stupid question, but what do I wear?” Henry asked.

“It’s not stupid at all. So again, my mom taught to dress presentable for whatever ‘event’ so like dress semi formal but summery.” Y/N said and Henry looked at her confused. “Just wear your khaki pants your navy or light blue button down.” Henry nodded.

It was the night before the carne asada and Y/N and Henry were in Y/N’s kitchen, their dessert is chilling, her dog Concha laying down in her bed (any breed you want), and they’re going over the family tree.

“Yeimy is my favorite cousin, she’s a music producer, love her to death. Then we have Juan Luis, Yeimy’s brother, kinda mujeriego, me entiendes, very fuckboy, but he’s a lawyer so we’re friendly. There’s my Tia chela, but you have to call her Graciela until she says you can call her Chela. Now Chela comments on my weight, a lot more than my mom does pero eso es otra cosa aparte.” Y/N said, showing pictures of each family member to Henry.

“Okay…who is Veronica?” Henry asked.

“She’s my mom’s friend from church, I don’t think she’ll be here though, she’s in Colombia.” Y/N said, looking for her photo to show him.

“And we’re going to your mom’s house for the carne asada?” Henry asked.

“Yes, I got her a house with a nice yard, my dad has the grill with the charcoal y todo. Now if there’s anything special that you want to drink or eat, get it tomorrow morning, we have to be there at 2.” Y/N said, now cleaning up the kitchen. So are you staying the night so you can help me with everything or are you coming here early in the morning?”

“I got all stuff in my car, I’m staying the night. I’ll just bring it in.” Henry said, he opened the door to leave and Concha got up from her bed to leave with Henry. “Nope, not you, just me.”

The day of the carne asada, Henry was in the driving with Y/N carrying the alfajores and picarones, the pasta in the backseat with Concha chilling so she could see her cousins. Y/N was wearing a sundress with wedge sandals.

“Okay, when you go in your obviously say hello to everyone, depending on whether the women of my family lean in, it’s a hug and a kiss on the cheek. It’s not a real kiss, it’s more of a cheek touch and the kiss sound, and with the men, again, obviously a handshake.” Y/N reminded him.

“Darling, I know everything, please relax.” Henry said.

“I cant relax, they never met any of my partners before.” Y/N said.

“Well i feel very special now.” Henry said.

“You should.” Y/N said.

Henry parked on the street, they go out of the car, Henry helping Y/N with the food as she put Concha on a leash so they could go to the house.

“Mami, ya llegamos!” Y/N yelled as she opened the gate to enter the yard.

“Ay Y/N, mi niña, cómo estás, amor? Y trajiste a supermán! Sabía que tenías amigos famosos pero nunca pensé de esta altura.” Y/N’s mom, Carolina, said.

“Ah mami, él se llama Henry, es mi novio, pero habla inglés, por favor.” Y/N told her mom.

“Oh my god, Henry, it’s so good to meet you. Finally my daughter has a boyfriend!” Carolina said and Y/N looked away to roll her eyes (because who the hell rolls their eyes in front of the their mothers, right?) “Princesa, has subido de peso? Te está saliendo un poquito la panza, no? Bueno, deja toda la comida en las mesa que no falta poco para llegar lo demás gente.” Carolina said and walked away to get paper plates and plastic utensils for everyone.

“What did she tell you?” Henry asked,

“Nothing it doesn’t matter, just put the food on the table, okay? Come on, Concha, let’s take you out your harness.” Y/N said and placed the food on the table to let her dog loose and Concha started running on the grass with Carolina’s cavalier King Charles spaniel, Honey. A few minutes, the cousins came, there was Yeimy, Juan Luis, Fabian (Peluche) and his wife Cecilia (Chiquis), Irma and her husband Erick, María José and her husband Diego, Alfonso (Poncho), and Maite.

“Prima, que bueno verte! Ooh, look at you, love the dress, you look so good.” Irma said, letting her Maltese, Cinnamon, off leash, Cinnamon ran to Concha.

“My mom didn’t think so, que bueno verte.” Y/N said, hugging her and kissing her cheek.

“Ay, no la escuchas, you look Great.” Yeimy said, placing what she brought on the table as well.

“Quien es el güerito?” Peluche asked, letting his german shepherd, Roscoe, off his leash

“Ay Peluche, mira quien habla de güerito. Anyway, everyone, this is my boyfriend, Henry.” Y/N introduced Henry.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” As Y/N told him, Henry greeted the girl cousins with a hug and let them kiss his cheek while shaking hands with the boy cousins.

“You landed Superman? The Witcher? How did you do that?” Maite asked. Y/N was going to answer but the tias and tíos came in as well.

“Hola hola! Carolina, ya llegamos! A ver, gordita, arrímate otra mesa, si?” Tía Chela told Y/N and Y/N did as she was told, she pulled another table to they could also place the food. Henry was saying hello to everyone. “Y mija, segura que es fiel? Como que es muy guapo, ha trabajado con mujeres como tú amiga Eiza, con la mujer maravilla, no sé, me parece raro que esté contigo.”

“Ay mamá, deja de escupir tu veneno a ella, ve con mi papá que está juntado al heladera para las bebidas.” María José said and Chela left reluctantly.

“Thanks, Majo.” Y/N said,

“I grew up with her criticizing me, can’t have her do the same to you. Look at us, we’re in our 30s and we still care about what our mothers say.” Majo said,

“Eso nunca va a cambiar.” Y/N said and she walked back to Henry where he was listening to her Tío Juancho (Juan Camilo) telling a story about his camping trip.

“Hey, pececita, I was just telling your boyfriend about the time I went camping,” Juancho said, hugging and kissing Y/N.

“So glad you’re back, love.” Henry said, wrapping his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.

“Oye Henry’s ven conmigo un momento, come with me.” Y/N’s dad, Carlos, told Henry, tapping his shoulder.

“Papi, que vas a hacer?” Y/N asked.

“Nada mija, es como male bonding, help me grill, Superman.” Carlos said.

“Papi!” Y/N whined.

“Ve con tus primos, princesa.” Carlos said.

“It’s alright, maybe it’s a good thing.” Henry said, kissing Y/N to ease her worries. Henry went with Carlos to the grilled, grabbing the tray of seasoned meats to cook.

“So, Superman, how long have you been dating my daughter?” Carlos asked, sipping a bit of modelo beer.

“Not long, a month.” Henry answered.

“You think of dating her for longer?” Carlos asked.

“Of course, sir.” Henry said,

“Ah, escucha eso, ‘sir’, mira que respetuoso me salió. Listen, Y/N is a good girl, she worked hard in her music, bought this house for me y mi mujer, and if you break her heart or hurt her in anyway, I know some people.” Carlos threatened and Henry got paler.

Carlos laughed. “Ah, te estoy vacilando, it was a joke, you seem like a good person, you know how to grill?” Henry let out a breath of relief.

“Yeah, yes, I know how to grill.” Henry said.

“Good, pass me the orange container, it has the ribs.” Carlos said. Henry did what he was told and gave Y/N a thumbs up. Y/N gave him one back.

“You think your güero can eat what we brought?” Diego asked.

“Let’s hope so, as long as he doesn’t add salsa, it should be fine.” Y/N said. She looked over to where Henry was grilling with her dad, they’re gonna last, maybe not forever, but they would totally last.

Everyone was eating.

“Mija, te salió muy bien la pasta.” Carolina said.

“Gracias, me ayudó Henry también.” Y/N said, making sure she knew.

“Who knew you could cook, Henry, and with seasoning.” Carolina said, sitting down to eat. Henry looked at Y/N and she put her hands up in surrender. Everyone was serving themselves until.

“Haz platos para sus hombres también, que no se te olvide.” Chelis announced.

“Ay mamá, mas anticuada no puedes ser, ellos tienen manos, que se sirven solos.” Majo told her mom.

“Whats happening?” Henry whispered in Y/N’s ear.

“Do you see why I couldn’t come here alone? Just don’t serve yourself any salsa, the sauces are usually very spicy, the rest should be good to eat. There’s tacos dorados that have potatoes, some are chicken, others are beans, it’s a surprise. Take one of each, I’m sure you’ll like it.” Y/N whispered back to him. Everyone serves their own plate porque así debe ser, and they were all chatting, mainly trying to get to know Henry.

“So Henry, You’re a good looking man, why are you here with Y/N? I’m sure you can do a lot better.” Chela said and Majo states at her mom and mouthed her apology to Y/N.

“Has she been telling you this the entire time? Asking why I’m here with you?” Henry asked Y/N and Y/N just nodded. Henry stood up from his seat. “Listen, Graciela, I fell for Y/N the moment I saw her, I don’t know what you have been telling her since we got here but I have had enough. She didn’t want to come here alone and now I know why. If she shows up alone, you’ll ask why she doesn’t have a boyfriend, she shows up with me, you ask her why I’m here with her, that’s enough.” Henry said, Y/N pulled his arm to sit him back down.

“Perdón, Y/N, que Pena contigo.” Chela said and Y/N just nodded, it was nice to have someone other than her cousins defend her. “I’m sorry to you too, Henry.” Henry nodded his head and everyone continued eating. By the time they were finished, they went their “separate ways”.

In the carne asada, there were 3 sections, where the cousins were talking about their memories, what they’ve been up to. The aunts and her mom were talking about neighborhood gossip and about their kids. And of course the uncles and her dad drinking and talking about whatever.

“How did you and Henry meet?” Maite asked again.

“Well my coworker Eiza wanted to set me up with her, saying she was going to be at the after party. I didn’t want to be set up but when I went to the after party, I saw this beautiful woman dancing like she was the only one in the room, she captured everyone’s attention, including mine. Eiza noticed I was staring at the dancer and it turned out to be Y/N so Eiza called her over and there you have it.” Henry told them.

“Mira eso, prima, lo dejaste embobado desde el primer momento.” Ponchó said, petting Concha that went up to him.

“Así es, I thank our parents for playing Shakira when we were growing up.” Y/N said, raising her beer bottle to toast.

“Speaking of Shakira, how did you dance when he spotted you?” Chiquis asked, connecting her phone to the Bluetooth speaker that Peluche carried. It started playing the song ‘hips don’t lie’ and everyone was cheering ‘oh’.

“Alright, alright, I’ll show y’all.” Y/N said, getting up from her chair, handing Henry her beer. “It was something like this.”

Everyone was cheering, Henry was whistling, they were just having a good time.

“Pero ya, i guess that’s how Henry fell for me.” Y/N said, sitting on Henry’s lap now, taking her beer form his hand.

“You have no idea, sweetheart.” Henry kissed her.

“Mira Que lindo, pero no sé comen delante de los pobres.” Juan Luis said, sipping his beer.

“No que tienes novia, hermano?” Yeimy asked.

“Pero no está aquí, boba.” Juan Luis said.

“Wait Henry, why did you really like my dancing?” Y/N asked.

“You want the really answer or the savory answer?” Henry asked and Y/N hit his chest playfully. “Alright, alright, you were having fun, I wanted to be with someone I could have fun with. That, and the way you moved your hips gave me an idea of how you would be in other activities.” Henry smirked and Y/N laughed.

“Ay, you’re so dirty.” Y/N said, placing her head in the crook of his neck. “How you like my family?”

“I think I could come over more often, if you invite me, of course.” Henry said.

“Of course.” Y/N repeated and they kissed, his hands on her waist.

Taglist: @f10werfae @warriormirkwood @marieksg

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill

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ladylooch · 1 year

Note

Omgg bless your heart. Okok I literally don’t know if I want something where Woody has to physically defend his girlfriend orrr if we do something like a slow/lazy rainy Sunday where the reader and woody are at home watching movies together or the reader is reading a book and it’s just full of fluff or they could be cooking like pasta and have some slow jazz music playing in the background, the vibe could still be the slow rainy Sunday. Idk I’ll let you decide, my heart is so broken I can’t think straight 😭

Days Like This with Miles Wood

A/N: Here @ Lady Looch, I like to provide, so I’m gonna do both for ya 😘 Especially in these dire times where our Miles is now on the Avs. How will we live without him?!

Also, I want Miles Wood to punch someone in the face for me.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: smutty themes but not actual smut, fighting, swearing, drinking, most of this is so fluffy you might get butterflies in your stomach.

It’s a wild Saturday out in Hoboken. You and your boyfriend, Miles, are out at a bumping bar in the early morning hours. You have no idea how you’re still awake considering you worked long, overtime hours this week. You wanted to go home after the Devils win, but literally every single player and their S.O. was heading to the bar. You didn’t feel like you could bail.

You’re glad you came out though. The scene is fun and light. The boys are letting loose and Miles can barely keep his hands off you long enough to take a pull from his beer. His hands stroke the skin under the hem of your shirt, above the waistband of your jeans.

“I’m going to get a drink.” You say close to his ear. Your lips brush against his lobe teasingly. He turns his face to press your mouths together. A coy smile pushes your lips up, making it hard to stay connected. His hand drifts lower and lower, giving your butt a discreet squeeze that makes you hot. “Are you good?”

“I’m incredible in bed. Thanks for asking. ” He retorts.

“Well, that I know. I meant your beer.”

“Nah, I’m good. Bratter just got me one.”

“Okay.” You press a final, quick peck to his cheek,

As you walk, you can feel your body buzzing from both the alcohol and Miles. You can barely wait to get him home with how grabby he is tonight. You maneuver your way around a large group of guys who are so loud it makes your eye twitch.

All of a sudden, one of them grabs you. He forces your momentum back like he is going to dip kiss you. His hand grips your wrist as he forces your momentum back towards the floor. You can feel your skin throbbing under his grasp.

“Dude what the fuck!” You shout, shoving at his face until he brings you back up. He releases you, laughing with the rest of his buddies like it’s such a funny joke.

“I need a smooch to complete my initiation bingo card! Please! You’re so hot!”

“No.” You scowl at him.

“Damn, I’ve always wanted to fuck a WAG tho.” The way he looks at you sends a chill down your spine.

“You picked the wrong WAG to fuck with, bud.” Miles fist comes out of nowhere, straight into the guys face. His nose cracks open from the solid punch. Miles immediately reaches down for the guy's polo shirt, bringing him up to his face by his collar. “I should fucking kill you for touching her.”

“Babe.” Your voice is small, but Miles lets him go when he hears it.

“Your brothers here should teach you how to be a real man.”

Miles turns to you, cupping your cheeks, “are you okay?” You nod, gripping his wrists tightly for reassurance of his presence.

“I’m pressing charges.” The guy wails when he gets to his feet. “You’re going to hear from my dad’s lawyer.” Miles lets you go to turn back to the punk.

“Go ahead you fucking prick. You assaulted my girlfriend first. I’ve got 50 witnesses here who will back me up.” The bar cheers loudly in solidarity with Miles. He stays standing between you and the group until he is sure they have all left the bar, escorted by security. Miles’ arms are around your body, enveloping you in his warmth. You feel relief course through your veins at his touch. Everything is okay now. Miles will keep you safe.

“Are you okay?” He asks again, chest heaving with adrenaline.

“Yeah.” Your voice is shaky as you tuck your hair behind your ears.

“We should go home.”

“No, I’m not going to let that guy ruin our night.”

“Stay close. Don’t go anywhere without me.” You nod that you won’t. “Do you still want a drink?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, let’s grab one.” Miles motions to the bartender who whips up another one that’s on the house.

You’re shaken up the rest of the night, which ends about 30 minutes later as the team begins to disperse. You and Miles take a cab back to your apartment. You get into the shower to scrub your make up off and the feeling of that guy’s hands on you.

Then you join Miles in bed where he wraps you in his arms, soothing away the ick on your skin the scalding water couldn’t.

- - -

The heat of Miles radiates up your back the next morning. He has you spooned so deep into his big body that you are crunched into the mattress, barely able to breathe. You wheeze in a breath, wiggling until his grip on you loosens a smidge.

Rain patters against the window. Your bedroom is dark with the gloomy clouds hanging over the city while your body aches from last night. A headache is pulsing along your temples and your feet hurt from standing in boots for so long yesterday.

Miles’ hand on your hip begins to move, tracing quick, light circles along your bone. You reach for his forearm, trailing your nails along his exposed skin. His nose comes along the back of your neck before his lips plump in a good morning kiss against your skin.

“Wanna stay here all day with you.” He murmurs.

“Me too.” You wind your hand back to grip his curls in your hand. He moves from the back of your neck to the side, sucking your skin into his mouth. He doesn’t stop until he marks you just beneath the collar of your t-shirt.

“How are you?” You know he’s checking in again about last night.”

“I’m good. I know I’m always safe with you.”

“It took me a second too long to get to you.” His voice is harsh at himself.

“Your timing was perfect, Miles. Any second earlier and you would have taken me down with him.”

“Cannot believe he touched you. Gonna have to tattoo my hands on you or something.”

“That might be too far.”

“No.” He mumbles, squeezing you deeper into him again.

You both lay in bed for another few hours. You share kisses, dozing in and out of sleep wrapped up in each other. Miles’ hands explore your body, working you into a needy state so he can take you slow and sensually.

“I want coffee.” You mumble against his lips when you are both happy and naked.

“I can go get some. I think we are out.”

“Yes, please.”

His naked butt is in its fully beautiful glory as he struts to the closet. He pulls on fresh clothes and a hat, then comes back to you in bed, dropping a lingering kiss.

“Mmm. Today is gonna be a good day. Just me and you at home.” His nose nuzzles yours before he begrudgingly leaves for the store.

When he returns, he has much more than coffee.

“So many goodies.” You murmur as you come into the kitchen in his t-shirt and a pair of leggings. Miles looks at you like you’re walking a red carpet.

“Baby, how are you so beautiful?” He whines, tucking you into his side.

“Oh my god, stop.”

“No I’m serious. How are you real? How do I get to keep you?”

“Because you buy me things… and punch little shits in the face for me.” Miles’ explosive laugh fills the kitchen.

“Can’t wait to hear from his daddy’s lawyer.”

“Show me what you got.” You say changing the subject back to lighter topics.

“Okay. So much. I got the tea you like.” He shakes the box at you. “I got orange juice and sparkling wine for mimosas. We have a box of cake mix and frosting. Honestly, I really just want to lick frosting off your body though, so we don’t even have to make the cake.” You snort, laughing into his side. “And I got all the ingredients to make you a special dinner we used to have growing up.” You take in the remaining ingredients.

“Chicken soup?”

“Close. Chicken Pot Pie.”

“Wow!” You give him a squeeze. “You’re going all Chef Woody for me today.”

“Mhm, my baby deserves all the comforts today. Lazy Sunday commence!” He yells as he pops the cork off the sparkling wine bottle.

“Wait, babe, where is the coffee?”

“Son of a bitch.”

- - -

The steaming pile of food on your fork is deceivingly bland looking. You hold it up to your lips, blowing it as Miles waits impatiently. He is a great cook, but it’s hard for him to have enough time to make dishes he wants to during the season. Quick, 30 minute meals are too simple and boring for his skillset.

You bring the bite between your lips, then chew slowly. Your eyes close and Miles starts chuckling.

“I love when I can get your eyes to close. Is it good?” He leans forward, surprising you with his lips on yours.

“It’s amazing, baby. Thank you so much.” You kiss him again. “Wow. He’s hot.. he plays hockey.. he can cook. Where are your flaws?”

“I’m hiding them from you.”

“In the closet? Is it like all your nail clippings?” You shudder.

“Ah, I was thinking more like I don’t actually know how to clean a bathroom…”

“I already knew that.” You chuckle, taking another bite of your dinner. It’s somehow better than the first. “And as long as you keep cooking like this, I’m fine with that.”

After dinner, you both work together in the kitchen, listening to music and cleaning up. You tried to clean up yourself because he spent so much time shopping, preparing and cooking, but he wouldn’t let you do it alone.

“Come here.” He murmurs suddenly as Love You Anyway by Luke Combs comes through your bluetooth speaker. “Wanna dance with you.”

You step into his embrace, curling your head to rest against this jaw. One hand grips his and the other spread across his wide shoulders. He’s so muscular this year and you have to spread your fingers wide to touch as much of him as possible.

“I love you.” He whispers. “I’m so happy. Today has been so good.”

You nod in agreement. It’s one of those days you’ll look back on after a rough day and it will bring you home to each other.

The song ends, but you and Miles keep dancing in the kitchen for another few minutes, not wanting to let the other go.

“I’ve got the rest of this.” He finally says against your lips. “Go get a bath ready for us.”

You oblige. You work meticulously to get the bath to the right temperature with the perfect amount of bubbles. You turn the towel warmer on, gather all the candles you can into the room and strategically place them for a romanic glow. The speaker plays soft, country love songs.

“Hey, wanna do a face mask?” He asks when he comes in, pulling his shirt off his body. You pause him there, leaning forward to take a nibble on his pec.

“Yes.” You finally answer, rummaging through the different options you have. You’re giddy because he never lets you do this to him even when you beg. For him to offer is so exciting! It’s been a dry winter, so you grab a hydrating one for you both. Miles makes funny faces at you as you brush it on him while sitting on his lap over the closed toilet. He’s too tall to not be sitting during this application. His fingers tease along your calves making it hard to focus.

“Gonna poke you in the eye if you go any higher.” You murmur when his hands get to your mid thigh.

“Worth it.” He grins, eyes closed as you apply the mask to his nose.

You both get into the bath, Miles holds you close against his body, stroking at your hips under the water. His eyes are closed as he hums along to Thank God by Kane and Katelyn Brown. You bring your hands to his, lacing your fingers together and sighing contently.

“I needed this.” Miles murmurs. “I’ve been missing you so much on the road.”

“Me too, babe. This year feels like you’re always gone.”

“I know. I hate it.” He sighs, bringing your interlaced hands to your breasts. He grips them tight making you wiggle against him. His thumbs brush across the stiff beaks of your nipples and you moan. “Miss your pretty noises.”

The timer for the face masks goes off, halting anything further. You grab the washcloth on the side of the tub, taking your mask off, then helping Miles with his.

“Perfect.” You murmur to him, kissing his full lips so he can open his eyes.

“It’s tingly.” He says against your mouth.

“Yeah, it’s meant to be.”

“Like us.” He nips at your bottom lip. You know what he wants next.

“You gonna keep playing with your dessert or you going to fuck me in our bed?” You ask against his mouth.

Miles smiles.

He doesn’t waste any time lifting your dripping body out of the bath tub, ready to cap off your great day with you sighing his name.

#Miles Wood blurb #Miles Wood x Reader #Miles Wood Fan Fiction #My writing #hockey writing #NHL fan fiction #writing request #Not tagging the Avs because we don't need that negativity right now

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leviathism · 2 years

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Howdy do! How would Lucifer from Obey Me react to his s/o surprising him by singing a love song they wrote for him on his birthday?

lucifer x gender neutral reader

You were running out of time.

You had a week until Lucifer’s birthday and you were broke. You only had a few Grimm to your name right now and your heart could not bear to buy Lucifer some cheap trinket in a random rundown Five Grimm and Below Store.

It had to be meaningful, as his gift was to you for your last birthday. You nodded to yourself and thought of anyone who could help you.

In desperate and lonely times, humans usually flocked towards people like them. Similar in any shape or form. So…

Solomon welcomed you with some pasta. You warily took it and stepped inside. Simeon mimicked a dead face, eyes rolling up with his tongue sticking out as he pointed at his own bowl. A clear warning.

“So what do you need help with?” As Solomon lead you to the kitchen, you quickly dumped out half the pasta in the trash. He sat down at the table and you sat down next to him. “Oh, I see you’re hungry! Would you like seconds when you’re done?”

“No thanks.” You smiled at him gratefully, a shiver racking down your spine. “Um, I need help for a present. Is there any impressive magic that could help for a gift?”

“For who? Lucifer?” Simeon asked, swiping your bowl when Solomon glanced at his phone for the date. “His birthday is coming up, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I have a few ideas,” Solomon started, looking down the hallway, probably towards his room where he kept his spellbooks. “There’s a confetti spell, a spell that makes everything cake flavored, and then an infinite wine spell. He likes wine, doesn’t he?”

“Um…” You frowned. “Can I have all the spells?”

“My prodigy!” Solomon laughed, patting you on the back. “I love to see it. I’ll go get the spells’ instructions.”

He left and came back with three rolled up papers in his arms. He laid them on the table and you took and read over each one.

“…I’ll never learn this in a week!” You groaned and buried your face into your hands. A hand rubbed your back consolingly. You peeked over your shoulder.

“Lucifer still has his love for records, right?” Simeon asked, thoughtfully bringing a hand up to his chin. He must’ve picked that up from Solomon. “He loved music in the Celestial Realm. Maybe you can make a song for him. Or even sing it, I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“You think I can do that in a week?” You asked hopefully.

Simeon’s smile faltered. “Probably not. But I’ll help you with the lyrics. I’m sure some demon around here knows how to play a simple ukelele or guitar. It won’t be a world wide hit type of song, but Lucifer will love it if it came from you.”

You smiled at him. Simeon sure knew how to inspire and reassure someone.

So, the two of you found some demon who could play the guitar. You borrowed Mammon’s guitar for a hefty fee of 1K Grimm, effectively draining you of any money you had left. You practiced every day after school and after you ate dinner, you were always at Purgatory Hall, brainstorming with Simeon to write your song.

You finished the lyrics and perfected your guitar song the day before his birthday. Sure, your guitar sounded a little off and your lyrics were no match to Taylor Swift, but Lucifer would love it.

Lucifer was going to hate it.

You stood outside his door, shaking and trembling in your spot. It had been an eventful day for Lucifer’s birthday and it was just before dinner now. Everyone had given their gifts but you, and yet you couldn’t even lift your arm to knock. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath.

“…Are you alright?” Lucifer asked and you jumped. He must’ve opened the door when you had been steadying your breathing.

“Um… No. Yes.” You took another deep breath. “I have a birthday present for you.”

Lucifer’s face broke out into a smile. You couldn’t help but smile back. He stepped back and you took the cue to go into his room. You ushered him to sit on his bed as you messed with your guitar.

You stood in front of him, staring at him.

“Um…” He nodded in encouragement. You had this. “Here it goes.”

You ended up singing Happy Birthday to him. Not at all what you had planned. And of course, since you didn’t plan to sing that, you didn’t know Happy Birthday on the guitar.

You had utterly and entirely made a fool of yourself.

But Lucifer had loved it. Or at least he made it look like he did. He stood up and tugged you closer to kiss your forehead, ignoring the awkward press of the guitar between the two of you.

“Thank you.” He smiled sweetly at you. “I see you’re learning the guitar.”

You nodded, dazed and embarrassed.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat?” He led you out by your arm but at the end of the hallway you broke out of his hold.

“I… have to go return the guitar.” You turned and scurried off, leaving Lucifer alone at the end of the hallway.

You escaped into your room, closing the door firmly behind you. You placed the guitar on your table and dove for your bed.

You sighed into your pillow, depressed. How could you ever recover from this? You turned to face your ceiling, wondering if you could sleep your sadness away.

In the middle of your sleep, your door creaked open. Your eyebrows furrowed but you decided to ignore it in favor of more sleep. But a hand settling on your forehead made your eyes flutter open.

“Are you sick?” Lucifer asked you. His hand slid down to cup your cheek. Your lip almost wobbled. Almost.

“No.”

“How come your didn’t eat dinner with us?” He lowered his voice to a whisper, sitting on the edge of your bed. You grabbed his arm, clutching at it desperately.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

He seemed unsatisfied with that and sighed. “Do you want me to sleep with you tonight?” You shrugged un helpfully.

“It’s your birthday.” Your voice cracked. His eyebrows furrowed.

He stood up and went to the dresser to change. You turned away to face the wall as he changed, trying to fall asleep again so you didn’t have to talk anymore.

You heard his footsteps come back and you faked being asleep.

He called your name. You buried your face into the pillow. He called it again. You gave in and turned around to see him holding a crumpled piece of paper.

“Is this what you meant to sing to me?” Lucifer asked, reading over the lyrics slowly. You felt your body grow hot with embarrassment. This had to be the most embarrassing time of your life, forget middle school.

“…Yeah, but I chickened out.”

Lucifer smirked lightly at your phrasing but it softened as he continued to read. “You need not to be embarrassed in front of me.”

You shrugged, unable to explain it. He met your eyes over the paper steadily.

“Would it help if I sang it with you?”

You froze. Lucifer singing? In your dreams. “Are you being serious?”

“Of course I am.” He placed the paper on the side table and got into bed with you. He pulled you into his chest, comfortingly rubbing a hand down your back. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t mind. Just no videos.”

#obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x gn reader #obey me x you #obey me fluff #obey me x gn!mc #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x y/n #obey me #lucifer fluff #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x reader

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lailyn · 2 years

Text

Sole Provider

Characters: Loki/Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Christine Palmer

Summary: Tony should have just let Loki order the fish.

___________________

Tony let out a groan.

“Are you alright, Anthony?” Loki asked politely.

“Sole meunière again?”

“Is this not a seafood restaurant?” Loki queried. “Do they not serve fish? Please don’t tell me this is one of those pretentious fusion places that put chicken korma into a sushi and call it a taco.”

“Okay, that sounds bizarre but also kinda delicious. No, I mean, yes, this is a seafood place but come on, there’s gotta be something else you can try.”

“Why? I share Julia Child's sentiment, no other dish can quite compare. It is simple yet elegant and absolutely delicious."

"I don’t know why we bother going out to eat if you're going to be ordering the same thing everytime,” Tony complained.

"Funny you should say that. It is a luxury afforded me only here on Midgard.”

Tony blinked, momentarily confused. "But you're a prince.”

“Was.”

“You and your brother, you can’t be any more different,” Tony said, shaking his head in amazement. “I mean, I've seen the way Thor eats, he’s always telling us stories of the feasts you guys used to have back in the day.”

“Ah yes.” Loki made a face. “The feasts. Norns forbid I should develop an affinity for anything. Father would make sure it would never appear at our table again.”

“Why?” Tony braced himself for another gruesome story about Odin and his inimitable parenting style. “Isn’t feeding your kids what they like a universally good thing?”

“Not if it makes it easier for people to poison them,” Loki said darkly. “You shouldn’t be so predictable in life, Anthony. You make it easy for someone to put a knife to your throat when you sleep in the same bed every night.”

“That’s why all my penthouses have ten bedrooms, minimum,” Tony said dryly. "Remind me to get the builder in this week so I can make you a secret compartment for all your daggers."

"There is no safer place for my daggers than on my person," Loki said.

"Where do you keep them anyway? Yeah, I know they're on your person, but where exactly on your person?"

"For all your exploring, you still haven't figured that out?" Loki teased. "I suppose Thor never told you about Mjollnir? He could make it so tiny he could carry it everywhere."

"I can't believe I'm saying this but can we please get back to the topic?" Tony pleaded. "You said you were starving. I'm just saying, maybe eat something substantial? Hey, look, soft shell crabs are in season. Let's get that."

Loki sneered. "I don't trust anything that cannot decide if they want to live on land or in water."

"That must be related to some shapeshifter logic I know nothing about but does the habitat really matter as long as it tastes good?"

"And yet you claim to have a very discerning palate."

"For whisky, sure."

"So your last meal on Earth would be - ?"

"Cheeseburgers, yeah."

________________

Loki poked his fork into the mound of deep-fried things. "Crabs aren't supposed to be this soft. Has this gone bad? Things go mushy when they go bad, right? Like bananas and dead bodies?"

“Bambi, this is a three Michelin star restaurant," Tony said patiently. "Any fresher than that you're gonna have to peel the shells off the moulting crabs yourself."

"And bring Njord's wrath upon my head? No, thank you."

"Then you'd better dig in. I'm sure your god friend would want you to enjoy and appreciate all the bounties of the sea."

"The things I do for you, Stark…" Loki twirled his fork around a few strands of pasta and a piece of crab.

Tony watched Loki chew slowly at first, before picking up pace, swallowing the first mouthful with an appreciative hum.

"That went down easy," Tony observed happily.

He was about to dig into his own dish, an exquisite squid ink pasta dish with abalone and mussels, when Loki began coughing.

Tony looked up. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Something just went down the wrong way," Loki coughed harder. He thumped his chest with his fist several times. "Excuse me."

“It's not spicy, is it?" Tony asked, filling Loki’s glass with some water from the pitcher. "Here, drink this."

Loki gave a vehement shake of the head, clenching the table in a white-knuckled grip as he let out a string of harsh, painful-sounding coughs.

Tony watched in growing horror as Loki grabbed his throat.

"Tony," he called hoarsely. "I can't - breathe - "

Tony scrambled out of his chair, just as Loki toppled off of his. "Loki!"

Hearing the thump from Loki's unceremonious landing on the floor, the nearby tables began to gather around theirs.

Tony held his lover's lolling head between his hands. Loki's chest rose up and down but he could not seem to get a single breath in. "Loki!"

"Is he choking?" A man asked loudly. "Does anybody know Heimlich?"

"Somebody call an ambulance!"

"Oh my God, he's turning blue!"

"Excuse us!" A loud voice and a louder man pushed through the crowd. "Can everybody step back and give us some room?"

"What are you doing to him?" Tony demanded.

The tall, grumpy-looking man ignored him and simply focused on loosening Loki's tie and exposing his chest.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Tony was about to grab the man, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

He turned around to see a petite red-haired woman smiling down at him.

"It's alright, we're doctors," she said apologetically. "We can help."

She directed her next question to her companion. "What do you think, Stephen? An anaphylactic reaction?"

"Looks like," Stephen said gruffly. "His lips are swelling up, and he's breaking out in hives."

The doctor groped around in his dinner jacket and fished out what appeared to Tony to be some kind of hand-held flashlight, long and thin. He uncapped it, revealing a needle at the tip.

With one confident stroke, the man stabbed the pen-like device right into Loki's thigh.

"Whoa, what is that?" Tony demanded.

"It's an Epi-pen," Stephen explained impatiently. "Didn't your GP supply you with one? You're not supposed to go anywhere without it when you have a life-threatening allergy, don't you know that?"

"I don't - he didn't - " Tony mumbled. "We didn't know."

The pretty redhead glowered at her date and kept her hand on Tony's shoulder. "It's okay. He's going to be okay."

"Not if he keeps sticking around with you," Stephen mumbled under his breath.

"Stephen," she hissed.

"Christine," he mimicked, before turning his wrath upon Tony once more. "You go on a date with someone, you let them order whatever they freaking want. And before you ask, I wasn't eavesdropping, I just have very good hearing. Was it because you were picking up the check?"

Tony could not believe his ears. "Excuse me?"

"It was either that or you're a major control freak," Stephen muttered, pointedly turning his back to feel for the pulse on the side of Loki's neck. "Consider yourself lucky I was here, Mr Stark. The press would have had a field day."

Before Tony could come up with a scathing response, Loki began to stir.

The colour returned to his cheeks, just as the blue left his lips.

"Tony?" He whispered.

Tony shouldered the insufferable doctor out of the way. "I'm here, baby."

Green eyes fluttered open. They quickly came into focus, before widening in alarm at the sight of the crowd.

"What happened? Why am I on the floor?" Loki tried to push himself up, but Stephen's firm hand on his shoulder kept him on the ground. "Who are you people?"

"People whose dinner is now ruined, thanks to you." Stephen's words may be harsh but his voice was gentle. "See, Christine. This is why I have the Epi-pen, on my person, at all times."

"Yes, yes," she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Dr Stephen Strange, ladies and gentleman. Once a hero, always a hero."

Loki grew even more confused. "Doctor?"

"I am so, so sorry, Loki." Tony sounded near tears. "I damn near killed you."

Stephen heaved a loud sigh. "It wasn't you, idiot."

"Tony, why is this man calling you names?"

"Not important." Tony kissed Loki's knuckles over and over. "He can call me anything he likes. He just saved your life."

"Yes, that will be two thousand dollars, made out to Doctor Stephen Strange, MD, PhD. You can find me at Metro-General, everyone knows who I am."

A wide smile began to spread across Stephen's face. It made him look frightening, and frighteningly handsome at the same time. It was every bit as frightening as his next words.

"I have a feeling we will be very good friends."

#whumptober2022 #no.22 #allergic reaction #the avengers #fic #frostiron #doctor stephen strange #is a bamf #also an asshole #sick loki #loki whump #anaphylaxis

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gmanwhore · 1 year

Text

I. Finally wrote Breams. I finally wrote content for them. Gay old men.

Dr. Wallace Breen adjusted the papers on his clipboard and took a deep breath. Today was the day. He strode over to where one of the members of his science team, a rather large mathematician named Dr. Harold Reams, poured over the tape spewing out of the machine he was seated in front of. Dr. Reams was an odd one, he was built to be the kind of man you would notice anywhere due to his height but he was so quiet he melted into crowds. Breen was intrigued by him in a way few others piqued his curiosity and dare he say respect.

Reams was so absorbed in his work that he jumped when Breen put his hand on his shoulder. The administrator had to suppress a laugh.

"Sorry to startle you, that wasn't what I meant to do."

Reams adjusted his glasses and looked up.

"It's alright. What do you need?"

Breen showed Reams the clipboard he was carrying.

"I need someone with a good grasp on numbers to look over these values. I can't make heads or tails out of them."

"Of course. Just one second."

Reams took the clipboard. Once his eyes widened slightly Breen knew he had gotten down to the special note left at the bottom.

"I…I didn't realize you wanted to get to know me better, Dr. Breen. Not that I'm not flattered of course."

Breen looked down at the now flustered man, a small smile on his face.

"So, would you?"

"Oh, yes, of course! I should have answered first, my apologies. I've never been asked out for drinks before…and are you sure you want it at your quarters?"

Breen's smile only grew.

"Well, we don't have many options now do we? One of the downsides of working at such a prestigious organization, but one we live with."

Reams smiled up at him, feeling comfortable enough to.

"I guess you're right."

"Yes, yes. Now, does right after work sound good? I can also provide dinner."

Reams shook his head hard, still obviously flustered.

"Oh, no, let me cook and bring something over. At…six thirty?"

"That works. I'll see you then, Dr. Reams."

Breen walked off to continue his duties as administrator, feeling satisfied at the results of their conversation. Reams had to take a minute to sort through his emotions before he could start work again.

That night Harold made his way to Wallace's quarters. His stomach was tied up in knots, terrified of both messing up this very important interaction and that maybe this was all a sick joke. Something told him that Wallace wasn't that kind of person, though. Harold stood in front of the door of the small apartment. It didn't seem to be much bigger then the one the rest of the staff were given. Harold sighed, straightened up, then knocked. Wallace answered almost immediately.

"Harold! I'm glad you came! Come in, make yourself comfortable."

Harold entered, trying to not be awkward.

"Thank you for the invitation. I made us some pasta, I hope that's alright."

"Sounds splendid. Here, how about you rest it by the stove then we can have it in a minute. Can I get you a drink in the meantime? Wine? Beer? I can get you some tea if you don't want alcohol."

Harold set down the container of pasta by the stove, thinking.

"I wouldn't mind some wine, thank you."

Wallace poured them both a glass.

"There you are. Will you join me on the couch?"

Harold nodded, sitting next to Wallace, but not too close. He realized he was holding him wine glass pretty tightly, and tried to relax his fingers. The two men sat in awkward silence before Wallace spoke up.

"So, how do you usually spend your evenings?"

"Well, I usually get home and cook myself dinner before reading or watching TV for a bit before heading to bed. Nothing exciting. What about you?"

"Mostly the same, though I was never one for cooking. I do my best though. I never bring work in here, a personal rule of mine, even if it means I stay late at work. It's enough we live here, I need a bit of a break from running everything at some point."

Harold chuckled a bit.

"I can imagine dealing with the demands of the outer world as well as whatever goes on in Black Mesa must be stressful. I don't envy your job at all!"

"I don't envy yours either! You are a marvel, sir. I've never seen someone so efficient."

Harold wanted to hide in his sweater from embarrassment.

"Oh, don't flatter me please. I just do the job I have trained for. Numbers have always been a passion of mine. They are so much easier to deal with than words."

Wallace leaned back, taking a leisurely sip of his wine.

"I figured as much. From the time you arrived for your first day you can't have said more than ten words to any one person."

Harold gulped slightly.

"You've noticed me for that long? That's...a first. I'm usually quiet enough for people to forget I'm there. You are right, I really don't talk much to others. This is probably the longest conversation I've had with a co worker."

Wallace's face broke into something akin to a grin.

"I hope I'm more than a co worker to you. I hope to be at least your friend! You really are quite the interesting man, Harold. So brilliant, yet you seem so nervous. What is there to fear? You have more than earned your position here."

"It's not really intimidation, it's actually just…natural anxiety. I've never been someone overflowing with confidence. It's actually part of the reason I'm drawn to you, I think. You radiate confidence. Had it always been like that for you?"

He nodded, a look of rumination settling on his face.

"I think so. I've always been a very…I won't say loud, but commanding person I suppose? It all comes fairly easily to me."

"I can tell. If you were faking it I don't think you'd look this relaxed."

"Maybe I am a good actor."

The two men chuckled.

"Maybe! I don't mind the act though."

The silence this time was much less strained.

"Shall we eat now? I can't wait to taste what you cooked up."

"Of course! It will probably need to be heated up first, should I handle that?"

Wallace got up.

"Don't even think about it. You are my guest, and you have done plenty by cooking us both a meal. Go sit at the table, I'll join you in a second."

"Alright. I am taking your glass, though. Do you want it refilled?"

"Yes, I wouldn't mind that."

Harold went off and poured them both some more wine while Wallace reheated the pasta and plated it up. Soon they were not tucking into a nice meal.

"You are a wonderful chef Harold."

"Really? I honestly just threw this together, I had a bit of a mishap in the kitchen at first."

"That just shows your talent!"

"You need to stop flattering me. I might think you're buttering me up for something."

Wallace put a hand to his chest.

"Me? Never."

Harold laughed a bit, finishing up his plate. He then took it to the sink, then sat back down.

"I am very grateful that you invited me over. This evening has been quite enjoyable."

"It's my pleasure! I'm glad I had the opportunity to get to know you better."

Harold fiddled awkwardly with his collar and Wallace finished his meal and cleaned up his dishes.

"Are you ready for dessert?"

Harold looked up.

"Oh? Yes, I am. What is it?"

"Just some chocolate cake. I have some leftover from a small event I hosted."

Wallace cut them both a slice and brought it over. It was quite a good cake.

"Did you bake this?"

Wallace chuckled a bit, shaking his head.

"It would not taste nearly as good if I did. No, this was store bought."

"It's still a good cake."

"It is. Cake always puts me in mind of birthdays. Of course, when I was little I would have vanilla cake for every birthday. Chocolate is good but there's nothing like vanilla."

"I agree! I was the same, but it was always vanilla cake with chocolate frosting. It mellowed it all out."

"That does sound wonderful. I'll have to keep that in mind for next time I need to bring dessert for something."

"I could help you bake it, if you'd like."

"I would be honoured."

The ice fully broken now, the two men chatted for a while longer as they finished their drinks. Much later Harold left Wallace's quarters, his face glowing with happiness.

#half life oc #breams #am i cringe

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collecting-stories · 3 years

Text

Inventory - Daryl Dixon

Request: you can write anything tbh! just something small and sweet, if you don’t mind :) (daryl anon)

A/N: This is honestly just random established relationship fluff or something.

The Walking Dead Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You weren’t entirely sure that you liked Alexandria. It felt like someone had captured the old world in a time capsule and you were viewing all the things that you had forgotten about. Shower pressure and hot water and actual running water weren’t things that you took for granted and you’d practically cried in the bathroom when the toilet flushed but all the other parts felt uncomfortable. Like clothing that didn’t fit you anymore. You weren’t Daryl, waiting with his hand on a gun for the moment everything went to shit, but you certainly weren’t about to done a cardigan and act like a soccer mom getting ready for a bake sale either. You would let Carol handle the assimilating and gossip. Or at least the former, the latter, you couldn’t escape.

“I wouldn’t’ve pegged him as your type.” Olivia mentioned, hellbent on making inventory a gossip session.

“What?” You looked away from the open garage door to where Olivia was stacking cans of corn and writing down their number in her composition book.

“Daryl. I noticed you watch him a lot...is that like, you guys got a thing going on or you just looking?” She asked.

You paused in your rearranging of cans to look back out the garage door again. Daryl was across the street talking to Aaron and Michonne and you tried to formulate an answer that made sense for Olivia and for you. She hadn’t technically asked if you were ‘together’ (that ominous word that felt so weighty when you said it to yourself) but she was definitely asking for a definition. Were you more than friends, absolutely. That wasn’t even something you needed to think about. You certainly weren’t sharing beds with your friends the way you did with Daryl. But he’d never given any definition to your togetherness and somehow, even defining it felt like such an archaic thing. Another piece of the old world pulled from the time capsule.

“I mean...” you shrugged, “both I guess?” There was a thing, for lack of a more concrete term, but you also liked looking at him a whole lot. You’d been enjoying looking at him for a while now and sometimes on the road you’d thought, if something happened, who would you look for in a crowd. It wasn’t just that you liked the view, it was that feeling of something that anchored you into the moment, made your head a little less dizzy, made all this more bearable.

“I guess he’s not bad looking.” Olivia laughed a little, her cheeks reddening at the thought and you wanted to agree. He most certainly was not bad looking. And you had told him so plenty of times, in the privacy of your own room. “He doesn’t seem very...” she paused, looking over at you as if she had caught herself speaking out of turn.

Small talk and social etiquettes felt like something you’d left behind too, far too used to being direct with people. It almost felt odd for her to be so unforthcoming.

“Friendly?” You asked. She didn’t need to say it for you to know what she was thinking. It seemed to be a consensus throughout Alexandria. The community had differing opinions about all of you but the one thing they all agreed on was Daryl’s lack of acceptable behavior. He wasn’t particularly friendly with any of them (aside from Aaron maybe) and he acted more like a caged animal than someone who was grateful for shelter and protection.

“Uh, yeah.” Olivia nodded, pink cheeks staining darker, “I mean, I’m sure he talks to you, of course...it’s just, I’ve never found him to be particularly...warm.”

Warm, you felt like the word echoed in your mind once she said it. You’d never really spent too much time thinking about the way you would describe Daryl, he was just, himself, and that was it. You didn’t linger on what he was, what you expected him to be. Even if you didn’t ever think of yourselves as ‘together’ you knew exactly what you were.

You thought about offering up a defense for him, explaining that he was warm. He was being wrapped in a blanket on a cold night or feeling the sun on your shoulders in the early morning. It wasn’t something you considered often, that you felt like you needed to name, but you knew it right away. The words came on the tip of your tongue, like you’d been waiting to think them. But you didn’t get the chance.

Daryl came up the driveway while you were staring at him and the softest of smiles graced your features as you watched him, giving a small wave. Maybe you wouldn’t have thought about it if you hadn’t been talking to Olivia but, as Daryl held your gaze the whole up the drive, you were reminded of when you might’ve categorised his behaviour as more shy than reserved. Now it felt like he held back because he chose to, deciding what parts of himself other people got to see. When you’d first known him it was more a defense mechanism than an ordinary occurrence, and he’d never been comfortable meeting your eye.

“Did you come to help with inventory?” You teased, already hearing the grumbled response in your mind before he said it.

“Just passing by,” he replied, glancing over to the far corner where Olivia was still sitting, notebook open in her lap. “Morning.”

You wondered if she was scrutinising the interaction. Trying to see for herself what you saw in Daryl, as if that was possible.

“I’ll go check to make sure we’ve got all the dry foods from upstairs.” Olivia announced, standing from her spot and bumping her chair back against the sorting table. It rattled but nothing fell over and she went so quickly out of the room she looked like she was power-walking.

“What’s a matter with her?” Daryl asked, taking your water bottle from the ground by your chair and unscrewing the cap so he could drink some.

“She was asking about you, weren’t your ears burning?” You joked.

He glanced down at you, unamused, before finally taking the bait, “why’s she asking?”

“Said I stare at you all the time.”

“So quit staring.” He capped the water bottle and set it back in its place before fiddling with different cans on the shelves, pulling them off and reading the labels.

“Easier said then done,” you replied, grabbing your notebook off the shelf in front of you, “besides, I don’t wanna forget what you look like.”

“Why? You going somewhere?”

You scrunched your nose at his words and shook your head, “no, but you are right…saw you talking to Aaron.”

“Think ya watch me just ta spy on what I’m doing.”

“I’m right though, you two are headed out?” You asked.

“Don’t make it something it ain’t…I’ll be back in a few days time.”

Daryl was good at coming back when he left, you knew it from experience. He’d come back when he’d left with Merle, he’d come back when he’d left to find Beth, when he went off on his own to hunt he always came back. As sure as you were that he would leave, you were just as sure he would find his way back again. It wasn’t something you had to think about or reassure yourself of but sometimes it was easier to give in to that worst case scenario that sat in the back of your mind.

“I know,” you said it like you were promising him, “but that’s a few days without seeing you…who am I supposed to look for?”

Daryl set down the can of beets he was looking at and walked the short distance back to you. His hand wrapped around the end of your ponytail and he gave a gentle tug, guiding your head all the way back so you were looking straight up at him. You thought it was probably a good thing Olivia wasn’t here, she’d seemed scandalised enough at his presence in the room, you could imagine all the things she’s knock over if she saw him now, one hand holding your ponytail and the other on your neck as he leaned down and kissed you.

It was a softer kiss than the hold implied and you considered the juxtaposition of Daryl’s softness and roughness your favorite thing about him. It’d taken a while, to see the soft bits, but now you saw them all the time. How he kissed you so comfortably, like he’d always been doing it. His tongue brushing your bottom lip almost teasingly but he pulled away before you could do more, standing back up straight and dropping his hands. He gripped the back of your folding chair and you leaned against his hand, feeling them press into the skin between your shoulder blades, bare from your tank top. You kept your head tilted back, a little more comfortably though.

“When do you leave?” You asked, half expecting him to tell you he was headed to the gate now. Your brain still felt a little dizzy from the kiss but that was a normal occurrence.

“Tomorrow morning.” He replied, letting go of the chair to run his knuckles along your spine. “Shouldn’t be longer than a day or two.”

There was a quieter bumping noise and a soft curse as Olivia peeked back into the doorway, a few boxes of pasta haphazardly held in her arms. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s alright,” you replied but truthfully you were just being nice. Because Daryl had already retracted his hand you felt goosebumps on your skin in his absence, as if your body was trying to chase the sensation of him.

“Ya need help?” He asked, motioning to the boxes as she dropped them onto the sorting table.

“Would you mind? I’ve got another laundry basket full of them to bring down here and I dropped like five on the staircase.” She explained, following after him to point them out.

Daryl disappeared through the door, Olivia right behind him, and you went back to organising the latter half of the alphabetically arranged cans. Olivia tended to be more loose-lipped than her other Alexandria counterparts and you couldn’t help imagining her asking him questions, trying to dig out some part of a person under the cold exterior he’d given off while he was here. Searching for the warmth she thought was lacking. They weren’t gone long, Olivia’s chipper voice carrying down the stairs.

Daryl came through first, laundry basket piled high and the slightest hint of a glare as his eyes met yours, as if you’d somehow put him up to the task of helping.

“You can set them on the sorting table,” Olivia instructed, “I’ll go through them once I’m finished the canned goods.”

Setting them down, Daryl just nodded in agreement. You stopped from saying you’d see him tonight, in case that information was somehow on a need to know basis. But he was obviously being less purposefully withdrawn than you’d thought because he took another sip from your water bottle before telling you the exact thing you’d been too reserved to say.

“I’ll see ya tonight,” he promised, putting your water bottle back and giving your ponytail a playful tug before leaving back down the driveway.

You watched after him until he turned the corner and was out of eyesight.

“I can see why you like him so much…” Olivia finally said, getting your attention as you looked back at her.

“What?” You asked, wondering if he’d said something to her that changed her mind.

Her cheeks tinged pink again and she looked down at her notebook, “I wasn’t trying to spy or anything…just, you know, wanted to bring those boxes in.”

You nodded, prompting her to continue.

“I saw him kissing you…” she let out an airy sigh, “I’d be staring at somebody all day if they kissed me like that.”

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fic #the walking dead imagine #twd imagine #twd fanfic #twd fic #twd fanfiction #collecting stories imagine

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

distance learning (m)

banner done by the beautiful @eerieedits

summary; after their first hookup, jungkook isn’t so sure whether you’re serious about being exclusive. after all, people say things during sex. jungkook takes it in his own hands to figure out where you stand, and he realizes soon enough that eavesdropping is a bad habit pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, crack, insecure!jk, unresolved sexual tension, stressed!mc, this is really just unnecessary drama bc drama is fun™, sexting, dom kook’s still a meanie in control, posession kink, cock slapping, a blowjob, cockwarming, unprotected, creampie, squirting, (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) and of course the excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 6.1k a/n; haaaaaa three months later im finally posting pt 2! i figured that no matter how many times i edit/reread at this point i think it’s time to finally let this beast go!!! enjoyyy click here for part 1: remote learning drabbles; 01

if you enjoy this, please considering giving our pasta couple a like n’share💚

It’s been a week since the thing.

The remote-controlled vibrator thing.

The whole sappy-love-confesion-during-sex thing.

Jungkook is antsy, tail tucked in, perpetually wondering whether he went too far. You seemed to like it, and Jungkook definitely loved it. It was spicy and dirty and hot, and at the same time Jungkook thought he really made progress in expressing his feelings for you. Not only that, you said you liked him back!

At least, he thought you did.

“I really said I’d feed her lasagna and cum in the same sentence,” Jungkook bemoans into his pillow, which still lingers faintly of your Redken shampoo. “I’m disgusting. She thinks I’m disgusting.”

People say things during sex, Jungkook knows that. In the throes of passion and pleasure, people will say anything that comes to their mind, anything that fits the mood. Of course, you’d be tied in and say you like him back. But did you like him back as a friend? As a fuckbuddy? As something more?

“Fucking text her,” Taehyung is tired of Jungkook’s wallowing, everytime he checks in on the app developer he’s brooding in one of three places. Today’s his bedroom. Taehyung dips under the blankets, and steals Jungkook’s pillow right under his nose.

Jungkook suppresses a whimper, face melding into the blankets. Now that pillow is going to smell like Taehyung.

“Text her what,” Jungkook replies despondently.

“I don’t know, something along the lines of ‘I wanna follow through with my proposition of feeding you my cum and lasagna—not simultaneously. Wanna go on a date this weekend?’ It’s that simple,” Taehyung gets up in Jungkook’s face, dark eyes forcing him to bore right in. “Want me to do it for you?”

“Noo, I’m an adult I can—”

“I did it for you.”

Jungkook nearly knocks into Taehyung’s hard head, sitting up straight when he notices his phone behind his roommate’s back. This is what he gets for sharing passwords. Thankfully, the message is cleaner than Taehyung’s words, and you’ve already replied.

[1:23] Jungkook: would you like to go out for dinner this weekend? pasta and wine?

[1:25] You: it’s a busy week this week 🥺 raincheck?

“Was the sex that bad?” Taehyung frowns, reading the message twice.

“N-no,” Jungkook is sweating. He isn’t sure anymore.

Taehyung hands Jungkook back his phone, slowly, as if you’ll reply back with a change of your mind. Jungkook is a deflated balloon on his bed, feeling like a bum in his ratty sweater and a dateless weekend.

“It’s just that,” Taehyung puts a hand on his lip, mulling, “busy people don’t reply that fast. Like even if she wasn’t busy, there’s a fifteen-minute leeway before replying.”

This silly rule overrides Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the week.

The gyms have been reopened for months, and Jungkook’s trainer misses him dearly. Jungkook meets with Saeroyi in the morning, eager to get a few jabs in with some fresh equipment. He tries to move on, distract himself with a couple of pumps and a match with Saeroyi. It feels great to sweat it off, but it doesn’t help sway Jungkook’s incessant thoughts.

The ball is in your court now, Jungkook has nothing to do but wait. Some people are just bad texters, maybe you just happened to have your phone near you when Taehyung sent the message. Maybe you just wanted to cut Jungkook off as quickly as possible so you decided to reply fast and rip the band-aid.

No, you’re definitely not that cold-hearted.

Re-entering his apartment complex, his eyes linger towards where your room lies on the first floor. It’s all the way at the end of the hallway, and he’s tempted to just confront you and make sure that what you and him really had is indeed, over. Conversely, you could just really be having a bad week and you genuinely do want a raincheck.

Jungkook’s eyes trail to his form. Still in his gym clothes, and a little sweaty from the travel time. If he gets caught, he can just tell you he’s doing a cooldown by running across the hallways. Not the first time it’s happened, afterall it led him to you at one point.

He breaks into a soft jog, making a beeline to your front door. His feet squish against your old welcome mat. You haven’t changed it since Halloween, and he smiles fondly at the black scripted “Boo Y’all” written in script next to a chibi-ghost.

His heart beats faster as his hand lingers by the door, ready to knock. Deep breaths. Who knows, he could just be overthinking (like usual.)

“Fuck, Hobi!”

Jungkook freezes, his knuckles a centimeter away from your door. He backs up as if he’s been burned. His heart has fallen all the way down to his ass, and intends to stay there because now he feels like a damn fool.

The bed is creaking relentlessly, a rhythmic pattern that has Jungkook’s face crumbling at every spring. Jungkook’s face hovers over the door, his ear brushing against the wood.

“C’mon, bunny,” the male voice is teasing, “you know you love having me over. It would satisfy both of us if you’d just let it go.”

Bunny. A cute pet name, for sure. The way it rolls off the stranger’s tongue is natural, as if he’s been saying it for years. But what about being his doll, is that not good enough?

You’re huffy, taking deep breaths. He doesn’t want to hear anymore. Jungkook has put himself through enough self-wallowing for the week. What if he was just a stepping stone to meeting new people that will satisfy you better? What if you just needed one good orgasm to get your flow back, and Jungkook’s job is done? Sure, there were no strings attached when he proposed to have sex with you, but he thought…

No more thinking. Jungkook jogs away from the door, even going so far is to jog all the way up to the penthouse.

He hates this.

You hate this.

It’s been five days since Hoseok’s arrival, and you are going bonkers. Why couldn’t he get a hotel or an AirBnB? Because he’s cheap as fuck, that’s why. Your dinky cousin has been clinging to you like a lonely koala, and while you found it cute in the 5th grade, it doesn’t translate well nearly two decades later.

Every morning is the same. You make a subpar toast and Nutella breakfast, letting Hoseok’s slices go cold as you log in for work. You’ve been clocking in earlier in the hopes to finish the majority of your tasks before Hoseok wakes up, because by then you can barely function. Once he wakes up, he’s relentless, bouncing on the bed and talking your head off while you try to concentrate on whatever your boss is telling you. Whenever he jumps too hard, your cheap mattress causes your laptop to fly, and the only thing you can do is curse him out. Sometimes he plays Disney movies and sings in tandem, choreography and all.

You know that Hoseok is stressed and this is his outlet, and you don’t have it in you to stop his incessant habits. He’s visiting your area because of a lucrative job offer nearby and the interviews are sporadic, making Hoseok linger in your apartment for hours at a time until he’s summoned for whatever test they want to throw at him.

Most of the interviews are in the evening, and it’s when you can clock back in and finish your leftover assignments while Hoseok is also working. By the time he returns, you’re dog tired and so is he.

Every night, you try to move away from Hoseok’s clingy self, as he grapples onto your waist and slings a thigh over your belly. You wish it were someone else sharing the bed with you.

If you bring Jungkook into the picture however, you’d be burnt for the week. Complete crumbs. It would be too much stimulation for you, having to balance work, Hoseok’s incessant attitude, and putting on a face for Jungkook. Your relationship with the penthouse neighbor is barely budding, hardly watered considering Hoseok’s sudden visit. You cling to the fact that in a couple days you would be giving your undivided attention to Jungkook, most of your priorities out of the way, and most importantly, you’ll have your own room back.

Maybe you could surprise him by giving him a pasta dinner, just like he proposed.

Unable to get the thought out of your head, you blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. It’s late, very late for a workday. The blue screen burns your eyes a bit, but you're determined to at least check up on Jungkook. You can’t take too long, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep and get him out of your head. Dear, unassuming cousin Hoseok is fast asleep next to you, due to the fact it’s nearly midnight. Making sure not to disrupt him, you carefully cup your phone in your hands, putting it on the lowest light setting.

[11:54] You: hey, hope work hasnt been as draining for u as it’s been for me ☠️ what’s your opinion on pasta sauces, red or white?

Jungkook is normally a fast texter, at least from your experience. It’s you that’s the sporadic texter, sometimes taking hours to reply, other times in seconds. It never really mattered until now, however. But it takes five, ten, and finally fifteen minutes before you get a response.

[12:09] Jungkook: ???

You frown, wondering what you said wrong.

[12:10] You: do you not wanna do pasta anymore? Are you craving something else now?

[12:10] Jungkook: i don’t think it’d work out

[12:10] You: why?

[12:11] Jungkook: im sure you know why, bunny.

Strange. He’s never called you bunny before, and in your opinion you think he’d be the bunny in the relationship—soft and cuddly on the outside, and an absolute horn ball in bed. Is this some sort of weird power play? Is he being passive aggressive on purpose? Whatever this game is, you’re not into it. Grumbling under your breath, you snake out of bed, looking blindly for your slippers in the dark. You’ll be in and out of Jungkook’s apartment in ten minutes.

Just as your hand brushes the doorknob, your new roommate calls for you.

“Bunny?” Hoseok calls blearily, and you’re staring straight at his cookie-printed eye mask, “what time is it, where are you going?”

“Um, out,” you reply shortly, “I forgot I left my laundry in the dryer.”

“Oh, m’kay. Come back soon, y’know I can’t sleep alone.”

It’s then you realize. Bunny. Jungkook thinks that Hoseok and you are a thing. He really needs to stop eavesdropping on you.

You feel your pussy frown. Your cousin is such a cockblock and he doesn’t even know it. Without an answer, you slip through your door and into the first free elevator. As you zing up the floors with the magical 1234 code, you work and rework your hair in and out of its style, wondering if you’ll look more presentable with your hair messy or thrown back.

As soon as you reach the penthouse, you burst into action. “Jungkook!” you cry, pounding the front door, “it’s a misunderstanding, open up!”

The door immediately swings open after the first three knocks, and you punch Taehyung in the chest.

“You look awful,” Kim Taehyung drawls. Taehyung is wearing nothing but a cranberry red silk kimono, and you have to avert your eyes and focus on his face, which is even worse because he’s looking at you like an all-knowing psychic.

“Gee, thanks,” you try to move past him, but he’s blocking the door.

“Jungkook’s in a meeting with some foriegn developers,” Taehyung talks with his hands, pretending like he has any idea of the nature of his roommate’s job, “when it’s this late he doesn’t leave his office until morning. Door’s locked.”

“Well then, can you relay a message?”

“Depends, is this message going to hurt him further?”

Oh my goodness, when Taehyung wants to be he is such an enabler. “Tell Jungkook he’s done wallowing. Instead of jumping to conclusions, maybe he should’ve just asked me why we couldn’t go on a date this week.”

“You could’ve also just told him you have a man on the side.”

“Ohmygod you two are two iotas of a combined braincell!” you shove your hands in your pocket, hotly scrolling through your phone so you can shove a picture in his face. “This is Jung Hoseok, my cousin who derailed my plans this week by crashing in my too-tiny apartment and forced me to raincheck with Jungkook. He’s a blabbermouth and would tell everyone—my parents, my grandparents, my great-aunts—about Jungkook if he found out I was dating, and I’m not ready for that,” you zoom in on the picture, despite the fact that the screen is practically touching Taehyung’s nose, “and the reason Hoseok calls me bunny is not sexual—you two are fucking gross—I had front tooth problems in elementary school and I had a brace on my two big teeth, it was not pretty.”

“Ah, bunny.” Taehyung echoes with wide eyes, looking at you as if you’re now the one with sage wisdom, “it all makes sense now.” He gulps, taking in the old photo of a mini-Hoseok and you, yourself frowning to cover your huge braces and Hoseok trying to pull your gums apart with his greasy little fingers.

Satisfied by Taehyung’s evident squirming, you decide you’re too tired to further this interaction. “Tell the other half of your cell for me, will ya?” You’re already turning away, pressing repeatedly at the elevator button, “I would love to go on a date with him as soon as he gets his head out of his ass.”

Jungkook is tired, but not tired enough to murder Taehyung and make it look like an accident.

When he has late meetings, Taehyung is usually quieter around the apartment, and even gets Jungkook a hot meal once he wakes up in the afternoons. Today, Jungkook slept through and through. Normally he’d wake up midway to Taehyung’s television dramas, or the clanging of last night’s dishes but nope, not a peep.

And today’s hot meal is takeout from Jungkook’s favorite ramen restaurant. That only means one thing—something has gone to shit and Taehyung feels guilty.

Jungkook sips his tonkotsu impossibly slow, hearing Taehyung’s words—your words from last night—clear as day. Taehyung even describes in detail where the nickname bunny comes from, down to how miserable you looked in the photo with your monstrously metal-bent teeth. Oh, how he wishes he can swaddle you between the blankets, hold you and comfort you while you deal with your family.

[2:45] Jungkook: doll, im so sorry

[2:45] Jungkook: please, i booked us a weekend at that new spa that just opened downtown. The tickets are flex, so if your cousin doesn’t leave by then week we can always reschedule

[2:51] Jungkook: baby doll…

This is far worse than believing you didn’t like him. Now Jungkook is antsy, knowing you deserve all the space in the world because of how silly he was being. You owe him nothing. If he just waited it out until you were ready, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s potato-esque throughout the day, thankfully Taehyung gives him space as he watches hours of mindless television.

You don’t reply until very late into the night.

[10:10] You: IM ALIVE--barely!! And mr. jeon, you’re not only a triple texter, but an ellipsis texter???? You’re asking for trouble

Jungkook has no shame, immediately texting you back. He can’t help it, he’s smitten.

[10:12] Jungkook: taehyung explained everything. It’s all his fault. Don’t ask why, it’s his fault. Im so sorry.

[10:12] You: mm, it’s okay. Just a misunderstanding. I was pretty upset last night, but i’ve been pretty tired this week so my fuse is short.

[10:14] Jungkook: you should go to sleep now, doll. We’ll have time together after your cousin leaves

[10:14] You: just a couple more minutes. Miss u and your cute face

[10:16] Jungkook:

[10:16] Jungkook: will this hold u off until saturday?

Jungkook is a pile of goo. Pink, warm, happy heart-glittered goo. It takes a minute for you to reply, and for that whole minute Jungkook is kicking his legs under the sheets of his bed like an eager five-year old who just gave his crush his Valentine. Maybe it’s taking you so long to reply because you’re trying to send a selfie of your own, running off to the bathroom to take a cute selfie if your cousin is asleep in bed.

[10:19] You: fuck, i kno that’s supposed to be a cute selfie, but i want you so bad. I want to sit on your face, let your lips glisten with my pussy as i cum all over that pretty face

[10:19] You: i wanna touch myself so badly but fuckin’ hoseok is out here snoring like he’s gon hack a lung. Panties are so wet 🥺🥺 your doll is needy for you, wanna be played with

[10:20] Jungkook: lfjsdl;fkjs;fjsoisfoisljsdfsdklfjsdklf

He throws his phone across the bed, feeling himself twitch in his red flannel pyjama bottoms. The thought of you so hot and needy when you’re ten floors down has Jungkook absolutely livid. He doesn’t know how he’s going to talk to you, comfort you without missing you like crazy.

Jungkook thinks back to what he has in his fridge. His contractor sent him a cheese assortment, maybe he can bring it down pretending to be a friendly neighbor. Maybe Hoseok can go to the convenience store to conveniently grab a bottle of wine. He can make both of you cum in five minutes, flat.

Akin to a dumb, horny teenager, he sighs. He rubs his palm longingly over his member. He’s horny, but he’s also eager to see your face. Talk to you, get reacquainted with your routine and sneak his way into it. He wants to be a part of your life, and he’s hoping you will too.

[5:02] You: Jungkook, you left me hanging last night

[5:05] Jungkook: baby doll… i wouldnt have been able to handle myself if we continued

[5:06] You: so you decided to dip :(

[5:06] You: could u play with your doll a lil bit, kook? Hobi left for another interview

[5:08] You: PNG.0901

Jungkook was a fool to believe that you would drop him like that. No, Jungkook can see now that you two are a match made in heaven. You have a bite, never afraid to speak your mind when needed. This translates to a hunger you shamelessly share with Jungkook, both sexual and romantically intimate. He almost wishes he could’ve seen you act like a bitch to Taehyung last night, he can only imagine how sexy you looked telling him off.

He has the technology to blow up your picture, the one that’s currently having him close his laptop and shove it to the side. He spreads his legs further across his glass desk, trying to find comfort between his tight pants as he absorbs every bit of your skin.

It’s nothing too risque, but it’s nothing short of sensual. The room is dark, but it’s very clearly a picture of your hand between your thighs. Again, you’re between your wall and bed, squished between your office chair with your legs spread as far as they can go. Your skin is so soft looking, plush as you press two fingers between your damp panties. Adorable.

[5:12] Jungkook: you know why i never replied last night? Because i was too busy jacking off to your dirty words doll. U really need your mouth washed

[5:12] You: wanna wash it with something else🍆

[5:12] You: please kook, i need something. Hoseok will come home soon and i might rip his head off. Help prevent a murder

Jungkook chuckles, clutching his phone closer to his body. He loves how much you’re opening up to him. Last week feels like so long ago, how you were all flushed and wide-eyed at the proposition of sex. He thinks you two can have a lot of fun getting to know each other, both emotionally and physically.

[5:15] Jungkook: i was gonna wait until i sent this, but i think my doll needs it. Here’s what i was doing last night

[5:17] Jungkook: MP4.13

He… has a meeting in five minutes. A very important, very serious meeting. Jungkook jacked off enough last night, now it’s your turn. He hopes you like it. It’s not a very long video, barely a twenty-second clip of him fisting his cock. Taehyung was still home at the time, so he had to keep quiet. However, he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head that night, rubbing your thighs together in a cramped mattress as you try to erase the dirty thoughts of him. A murmur of your name, and the image of his precum dripping down his knuckles. You hope it’s enough.

[5:34] You: u make everything so much easier💜✨

[5:35] You: MP4.234

Two minutes. The video you send is even shorter than his, barely fifteen seconds. You’re in a much more comfortable position, horizontal on the bed. Your shirt is ridden up to the underside of your breasts, one hand clutching your bare breast so hard he can see your cotton plush skin bulging between your fingers. The other hand has your panties shifted to the side, three fingers in your sopping cunt.

“Mmh—fuck, f-uck Jungkook—” the words are mere breaths, puffs of air as you reach your orgasm.

His call connects. He nearly drops his phone on the glass.

“Jungkook!” Andreas from Germany wishes him brightly, “you look great, glowing even!”

Jungkook blushes, and mutters something about having to go to the bathroom before they start.

Taehyung makes himself scarce on Saturday. He packs a duffel bag for himself and takes the PlayStation, knowing it’ll be a long weekend at Jimin’s.

Jungkook is on livewire for the morning. He even express-delivers a pasta roller to his house, and he spends all morning testing out the perfect pasta dough. His black apron is covered in flour, and he can barely comprehend the tutorial that’s teaching him on his flatscreen.

He’s on autopilot. He hasn’t contacted you since he sent that selfie, and he doesn’t intend to. Jungkook understands why you made yourself scarce in the beginning of the week, preferring to raincheck and pin your relationship for a better time. Jungkook’s brain is overridden with you, swollen with thoughts of you. You would never be able to focus if you kept in contact like you did last night, especially if you can’t get away from Hoseok.

Absence surely makes the heart grow fonder.

Slapping his hands against his trousers, he surveys his handiwork. His pasta is appropriately floured and wrung, each handful of fresh dough wrapped in little nests. Off the stove is a bechamel sauce, a base ready to be cooked in whatever kind of pasta dish you want. He thinks the two of you would have fun making your own non-traditional pasta dishes.

The soft knocks on his front door interrupts his train of thought, and he knows it’s you.

You stand in front of the door, impossibly small in a large shirt and a plain pair of leggings. At the sight of Jungkook, a smile as warm and sweet as hot chocolate worms its way to your face, and you collapse into his arms.

He sighs gratefully, sinking into your small body. When he pulls away, he can’t help but frown at your apparent exhaustion. You must’ve come back from something tedious, because sweat dots your brow and your eyes are still puffy and dark. Your chest arches bonelessly into his, hoping to melt in his embrace.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey,” he replies.

“It’s Saturday.”

“It is Saturday.”

You rub your nose between the fabric of his button down, “I should’ve been more specific when I wanted to raincheck on you,” you murmur into the white cotton.

“No, I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions,” Jungkook whispers, even though you’re the only two people on the floor, “I’ll make it better, yeah? I’m going to love you so good tonight, won’t have to lift a finger—”

You shake your head, looking at him calmly. “Jungkook, it’s been a long week. Hobi got the job, I spent all this morning moving his two-ton speaker set into his new apartment. I don’t want anything gentle. I want you to rail me into next week,” Jungkook chokes on his saliva when you reach to cup his dick through his pants, already sporting a chub, “fuck me breathless. I want—no, I need this.”

Anything for you, but Jungkook isn’t going to let your mouth runneth over that easily. He wants that too, obviously. But again, you’ve made him wait.

Bending slightly, Jungkook whispers darkly into your ear, “Who said you can decide the rules here, doll?” he’s been waiting all week to slip back into this persona, one that has you shivering delightfully under his touch. A small, secret smile tucks itself under your lips as you tilt your head down, but Jungkook catches it. It shows you’ve missed it too. He lets your sneaky smile slide for now, only because he’s missed you so much and you’ve had a long day.

“If I wanna fuck you rough, I’ll fuck you rough. If I want to edge you until you're sobbing on the corner of the kitchen table, I’ll do it,” Jungkook spits every declaration into your skin, biting at your shoulder so hard you cry deliciously.

He drags you over to the living room, and he could sing at how easily you follow directions. Both of you have been tied up this week, and some hard sex would definitely ease that frustration, “Knees,” Jungkook commands, and you waste no time sinking to the floor, hands atop your knees.

You look up through your lashes, eyes big and glassy. His poor girl is tired, and he finds it all the more attractive that you’re willing to push that aside to make eachother feel good.

“Pretty, pretty,” he chants, pulling down his pants and letting his dick spring free, “suck.”

You waste no time, and he watches as your eyes dilate over the expanse of his cock, half-hard and ready for your mouth. Your nails dig into your knees as you start with featherlight kisses, finally turning into sloppy smacks as you lick all over his dick.

Jungkook groans, weaving a hand into your hair to force his dick down your throat. You gag at the sudden intrusion, but it doesn’t stop you from taking it like a champ. Hard, deep thrusts that he’s sure you can feel all the way in your stomach. You gag at each thrust, but don’t let up as your hot tongue wraps him up and licks at the pre-cum.

“Fuuuuck, doll,” he rips you away, his now hard dick springing away. He’s a little shaky on his knees, but he plants his feet down as he grips his cock, slapping the tip of it across your cheek. It smears your face, glossing your flushed cheeks in a mixture of your saliva and pre-cum. “Are you trying to make me cum first? So sweet, you don’t even care if you cum tonight, hmm? You owe me, making you believe you had another man.”

This isn’t true, of course. The both of you know it was just miscommunication, but it doesn’t hurt to play it up for pleasure.

“N-no Kook, I’m yours,” you grapple at his pants, pulling them down so he can get them off completely.

“Right. You’re. Mine.” With every punctuated word is a light slap to your cheek, and you take it. His cock bounces right off of you, until you finally move your head to suckle at the engorged tip, “I’m keeping you forever, doll. Don’t you know that?”

Throughout this whole process, you don’t move, other than the minute clawing at your knees. You’re so good to him. Jungkook pulls away and ignores the ache in his member for now, taking off your clothes for himself. It’s like unwrapping a gift, revealing every bit of skin reserved for his viewing. “So sexy,” he remarks once he’s got you bare, pulling you onto the couch. He’s still in his button down shirt, his date night shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. However, he lets your hands inch under the stiff fabric, feeling for his taut muscle.

He guides your aching cunt to his cock, sinking you down. It’s a tight fit, and you both moan at the brush of contact. Despite not being prepped, you’re still slick, and it makes up for it. He doesn’t thrust up or anything, just guides his lips to yours with a threadbare brush of his finger.

“Kook, d-do you want me to move?” you mumble against his cherry-flavored lip balm.

“Good dolls don’t move until they’re told,” your eyes widen innocently at the statement, and you crumple against his mouth, at his next words, “cum like this.”

“Awh shit, please no,” you tear up, burying your head between the crook of his neck, “I can’t wait.”

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you into next week. You can’t do this one little favor for me?” he’s being so mean, and you hate him for it. Haven’t you earned it? “C’mon baby, I thought you wanted me?”

It’s silent, save for the soft Italian restaurant music playing from whatever tutorial he’s hooked up to his television. It’s terribly cliche, like you’re in the porno version of a European romance movie. He thinks nothing of it, not when your juices are dripping on his thighs, your skin soft and pliant in his grip. Jungkook drums his fingers against your spine, seemingly uncaring that you’re stuffed deep into your womb.

On the other hand, it’s the only thing you’re acutely aware of. His thick, warm cock is nestled between your folds, right where it should be. You clench once, twice, thankful that this isn’t some crazed wet dream. States of sleep and consciousness have blurred this week, you’re lucky that you made it all the way up to Jungkook’s apartment.

You can’t cum like this. You need to bait him. You moan, the sound slow and rumbly against your throat as you weave your fingers through his dark tresses. Moving the strands aside to kiss his cold metal earrings you murmur, “I love this, Kookoo. I’ve wanted you all week, I was going crazy. I kept playing last week in my head over and over. I even put in my little vibrator, hoping you’d pull up the app.”

Jungkook’s teeth clench, and his grip is borderline painful as it digs into your hips.

“I haven’t been able to cum all week, and I want to do it all over you,” you husk, playing with the roots of his hair.

You can feel yourself dripping, wetness lubricating you even further and probably staining his thighs and couch with your arousal. Every second that passes is killer, and the fluttering towards your pussy tighten further as Jungkook’s cock twitches in response. Your pussy continues its ministrations, butterfly-like flaps against his hot member that have you vibrating.

“Mm, oh, I’ll cum for you,” and surprisingly, you might be able to. All this dirty talking has gotten you riled up. Just a little bit more and—

Jungkook shoves you off his cock, forcing you to land on the couch.

“No!” you cry, wiping your face. Your cheeks are ruddied, and you’re annoyed. The coolness of the autumn air has you feeling chilly, and you want to scream at Jungkook for disrupting your orgasm. You feel empty.

You’re not annoyed for long however, as Jungkook flips you on your back and gives you what you’ve been craving.

“You glide right in, don’t ya doll,” the friction is deliciously blazing, his hands pushing you further into the large couch as he takes you from behind. Hot, fast smacks against your ass come from the way his balls bounce back and forth as he pistons his cock in and out. “F-fuck, you’re so good to me. So good, I love having you like this. All pretty and dripping, you really know how to make a guy wait, huh?”

“Mmph! N-no—hng, but I’m y-yours, Kook,” you garble out, and you’re practically eating the throw pillow you’re propped up on as he slams you further into the cushions, so hard you may fall off, “all yours, honey. N-no more waiting. I want you, want you so badly—ah fuck!”

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it,” he says over and over, his thrusts becoming sporadic and losing their rhythm once he feels you clenching uncontrollably. He presses his two fingers to your sloppy bud, swirling around the juices eagerly. “C-cum, baby doll. You deserve it, yeah? Cum on this cock, let go.”

You’re starting to see spots, black and white alike. Finally shying away from his cock you rest on your back, but Jungkook doesn’t stop his fingers from flying across your clit. One look at his face and you’re gone. Pretty brown eyes, overflowing with affection. The feeling is different, and it’s the acute pressure between your stomach and pussy that makes you notice what’s going on with your body. The pressure finally releases, your eyes fluttering shut as you rest your cheek on the cushions. You dissolve, a mess on the couch as white hot liquid ejects from your body, spraying Jungkook’s thighs and cushions.

“Y-you just,” your lover’s mouth is parted open like a baby kitten, uncaring as to how the dark liquid stains his couch fabric.

“Squirted?” you answer breathlessly, a melty smile on your lips, “y-yeah.”

It sets him off, a button left dormant until now. The thatches of hair that surround his cock are dripping with your mess, a cold reminder that he got you to this high. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his cock back into you, and you gasp at the overstimulation. You try not to focus on how your body is a bundle of lit nerves, only to help Jungkook reach his completion.

“S-so perfect,” he warbles, pressing kisses to your jaw, chin, lips. Each thrust is deep, thick and heady with emotion. “Mm, I wanna cream this pussy sooo badly—mm, all mine, all wet and warm and so so sweet—”

He cries out your name, biting into your shoulder as your walls fill further with his hot cream. Your thighs are shaking from sensory overload, and Jungkook has to hold you down and soothe you into a state of reality to cling on.

Satiated, he nuzzles into your chest, feeling absolutely featherlight.

“T-thank you,” you say gratefully, when at least three out of your five senses return to your body. Your hands dip down to clutch his cheek, pinching lightly at the warm skin.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jungkook exhales into your breasts, “d-didn’t even feed you my cum yet.”

You scoff, pinching his cheek again. You’re aware of his softening cock between your folds, ready to seep the efforts of today’s coupling, but your stomach says otherwise. You crane your neck to make note of the kitchen island, staring curiously at the metal pasta roller and the little nests of carby goodness that decorate the cutting board.

“Feed me pasta first, please. You have all night to feed me dessert.”

Jungkook giggles into your stomach, he doesn’t mind feeding you in that order.

bonus.

“So.”

“So?” you have cream sauce on your lips, happily slurping on an angel hair.

“You haven’t told me you liked me back yet,” Jungkook rests his palm in the swell of his cheek, content with watching you eat from where he’s standing on the counter. He leans his upper body across the marble table, muscles rippling against his white shirt.

“Oh, I did!” you’re affronted, swinging your legs on the high chair, “I totally did last week!”

“Yeah, well. Can you say it while I’m not inside you?”

“Okay,” you blink, quirking him with a simple smile, “I like you.”

“That was anticlimactic,” Jungkook jokes at the brevity of your confession, yet his heart betrays the charm he finds in the three words.

You scoff, jabbing your fork in the little next of springy noodles. “What do you want to hear? I’ve wanted you since I’ve moved in? I think you’re really handsome when you pace the hallway doing work on your phone? I like the way you cook?”

“Keep going,” Jungkook sing songs, walking over to hug you from behind.

The stool swings back and forth as he rocks the two of you, softly and slowly so you don’t throw up your dinner. He noses into your neck, inhaling your scent and committing it to your memory.

“Mm, dessert first,” you insist, twirling around the stool so you can wrap your legs around his waist. “And then I can tell you exactly how much I like you,” your fingers play with the buttons of his shirt, walking the pads of your fingers across his chest.

Jungkook grins, hands reaching to cup your bottom and bring you to his bedroom. Of course, he’s always willing to satisfy your insatiable appetite.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btsguild #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fic

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 125.3 Accidental Bonding (Part 3)

You can start at Part One, if you'd like.)

"Piss off, Malfoy," Jenkins snarled from across the room at the end of the training exercise, drawing Harry's attention from the conversation he was having with Ron. "You are such an arsehole. You think you're so clever, so much better than us," he shoved Malfoy's shoulders, "but you're just a slimy Dark Lord worshiper-"

"Oy!" Harry shouted, darting forward and physically putting his body between Jenkins and Malfoy, "Don't talk to him like that."

"I'll talk to that fu-"

"You need to back down," Harry growled, his body thrumming with energy, fingers tingling with the urge to punch Jenkins in the face, his magic racing hot and bright under his skin.

Malfoy put a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Don't," he said. "He's not worth it."

He glared at the other man for a moment before taking a step toward the locker room.

"Oh, I get it," Jenkins sneered, "some people are so possessive of their pets. He's letting you fuck him now, so-"

Harry spun around so fast that Jenkins didn't have a moment to see what was about to happen as Harry's fist connected with his jaw. "Watch your mouth," he growled, low in his throat. "We aren't sleeping together but even if we were that wouldn't change the fact that he is twice the auror you will ever be." He took another step closer, "He's smarter, faster, and has better instincts. And everyone knows that your pathetic attempts to belittle him are out of jealousy. So you can fuck off before you make an even bigger arse of yourself."

"Alright," Ron said, holding out his hands between them. "That's enough."

Jenkins spat blood at Harry's feet but had the good sense not to say anything more as he left and slammed the door behind him.

Harry turned to see Malfoy storming away from him. "Malfoy," he shouted but the other man threw him a two fingered salute and stalked off.

"What the hell?" Harry grumbled.

(Read more below the cut)

Ron shrugged, "Beats me, mate." He slapped him on the shoulder, "but I wouldn't want to be going home with him. He looked pissed."

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

Regrettably Ron was right, Malfoy was pissed. Harry couldn't understand it and the other man wouldn't say a word to him about it.

They went home and Malfoy shut himself in the bedroom without a word, leaving Harry standing completely confused in the living room. "What the hell?" he repeated.

Hands on his hips, he stared off after the other man and replayed what he'd said to Jenkins for the fiftieth time, trying to figure out what had made Malfoy so mad.

Giving up on trying to puzzle it out seemed like the only course of action so he headed into the kitchen and started dinner. In the past week and a half, Draco had cooked, they'd cooked together, or ordered take out. Harry hadn't cooked anything on his own since he's arrived and honestly, he was glad for the chance to cooking now.

He chopped up an onion, diced a carrot, chopped up a stalk of celery, and minced several cloves of garlic. Then he turned to the stove and heated a frying pan, pouring in some olive oil before tossing in the veggies and letting them cook down while he chopped up lettuce for a salad.

After about ten minutes, he added the ground beef, salt, and pepper into the frying pan and uncorked a bottle of Merlot, pouring himself a generous glass and dumping a few ounces in with the beef and veg.

He cast a simple spell to keep the spoon stirring while the beef browned and he turned to cut up tomatoes and onions for the salad and made a simple vinaigrette. When the beef was brown and fragrant, he added in tomato paste, diced tomatoes, basil, oregano, and a dash of nutmeg before stirring it all together.

With a pleased hum, he put the lid on the pot and cast a spell that would condense the simmering time to about thirty minutes instead of three hours.

While the sauce cooked down he baked brownies, tossed the salad, and prepped the water and spaghetti. Boiling the spaghetti, cutting the brownies, and plating everything was easy after that. Harry topped the bowls of bolongese with freshly grated Parmesan and basil.

Then, after a moment of debate, he decided to bring dinner to Malfoy instead of the other way around and laid out their salads, bowls of bolognese, glasses of wine, and brownies onto a tray. He levitated it down the hall and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Malfoy called, sounding bored and detached and Harry had to take a steadying breath to tamp down the irritation that tone of voice invoked before opening the door.

"Made dinner," he said casually.

Malfoy turned his head from where he was laying on the bed, idly catching a snitch and releasing it. He sat up, his blonde hair trailing behind him, "It smells good."

"You don't need to sound surprised," Harry teased.

Malfoy opened his mouth to protest but Harry continued as he set the tray in the middle of the bed.

"I'm just kidding," he assured quickly.

"Do you really think that it's wise to consume red wine and pasta on a white bed?" Malfoy asked, one eyebrow arched at him as he climbed onto the bed across the tray from Malfoy.

"It'll be fine," Harry assured as he picked up his salad bowl and speared a tomato. "We're wizards, we'll magic it away if we must."

Malfoy hummed but picked up his own salad. "Thank you."

He shrugged a shoulder, "No problem. I like to cook, actually."

"Do you?" Malfoy asked curiously.

Harry nodded, "Yeah. Once we left Hogwarts and I was living on my own, I was eating out all the time and it wasn't doing me any favors. So I learned how to make some simple things that taste good." He tilted his head, "What about you? You're not a bad cook."

His cheeks turned a light pink and he cleared his throat, "That's Granger's doing actually."

"Sorry?"

He sighed, "She made a really good case about house elves. I didn't want to be who my parents wanted me to be so when I moved out and joined the aurors, I basically shunned anything that whiffs of pureblood bullshit. It has no place here," he said gesturing to his home with his fork.

Harry blinked, "That's amazing."

"Shut up."

"No, I'm serious," Harry said. "You're amazing and I had no idea."

"Stop," Malfoy said. "Please, it's not-"

"Is that what earlier was about?"

Malfoy stilled, "Excuse me?"

"Is that why you were upset?" he asked. "You thought that I was taking the piss?"

"I thought that you have an insufferable hero complex that makes me want to vomit," he growled.

"You're a hedgehog," Harry said, finally understanding.

Malfoy froze, "Who told you that?"

"Told me what?" Harry asked.

"That my patronus is a hedgehog," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry laughed and Malfoy flushed cherry red, his eyes narrowed. "No, sorry," Harry said holding out a hand, "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing because I had no idea, honestly!"

"Then what made you say it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Just," he paused and took a bite of bolognese as he searched for the right words, "When you start to feel vulnerable or like someone is going to hurt you, you curl into this defensive ball that will stab at someone no matter what they say or do."

"I-"

"You are genuinely one of the best aurors in our class," Harry said earnestly, steering the conversation to something more tangible that they were less like to fight over. "I was serious."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "You're just saying that because the bond-"

He shook his head, "I've always thought that," he protested. "It's annoying as fuck because it always seems like everything comes so easily to you. I used to complain about it to Ron all the time."

"Says you," Malfoy protested. "You're always doing everything right; throwing yourself into danger to protect people." He shook his head, "By all accounts, what you do shouldn't work but it does. You're a good auror, Potter."

Harry swallowed, "Thanks, Malfoy. That means a lot coming from you."

"Yes, well," he said as he took a sip of wine, "Don't let it go to your head."

Harry chuckled and they took a few bites in companionable silence before Draco started to talk again.

"You didn't have to come to my rescue with Jenkins, you know."

He waved the thought away, "He's an arse. We've had it out before."

"I'm just saying," he argued, "I was fine. Honestly what he was saying wasn't even that bad."

"Not that bad?!" Harry yelped. "He-"

Malfoy shook his head, "It's the bond, Potter, don't you see that? Jenkins has said a lot worse, other trainees have said a lot worse, and you've never felt the need to jump in and defend my honor before."

Harry frowned.

"You're being swayed by what the bond wants you to feel about me."

"I'm not sure you're right," he said. "Because you shouldn't be treated like that at work. No one should be treated like that."

"Be that as it may-"

"I'm just saying, even if the bond brought it to my attention, I would have done that for anyone. If he'd been saying shite like that to Ron, I would have decked him, too."

Malfoy looked like he was going to argue with him, before visibly changing his mind, "You do have a wand, you know. There's no need to resort to brute force."

Harry shrugged, "But there's just something so satisfying about punching someone."

A laughed forced it's way up Malfoy's throat and Harry grinned at him. Shaking his head, Malfoy replied, "You're ridiculous. And this is good, by the way," he added, pointing to his pasta with his fork.

"Good," Harry said with a pleased little smile.

The conversation turned lighter as they bickered about the training exercises and the best approach, but the bickering held none of the animosity it had a week and a half before.

And Harry couldn't help but wonder how much of this was the bond's doing and how much was simply him.

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

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #one year of drarry drabbles #drarry #ficlet #drarry ficlet #drarry drabbles #enemies to friends #slow burn apparently #see you in part 4 tomorrow #domestic #cooking

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ethan-torchio-angelo · 3 years

Text

Yesterday

Summary: A moment alone on a balcony and being grateful that today is a new day

Warnings: A few swears, a kiss, not much tbh

Word Count: 1500

A/N: So, I took a break. But I'm back. Life has been hell and the only time I can find myself happy is when I'm writing. As always, likes, reblogs and feedback is always appreciated!

“I love you”

She knows that if she had heard those words yesterday, she would have been thrilled, and would have deemed it the best day ever. She would have been happy and smiling because he finally, finally said them. But today is not yesterday and things have changed.

“I wish you were saying those words because you mean them, and not because you're scared of me leaving.”

She grabs her bag from the chair beside her and makes her way to the door, refusing to turn back and look at him as he yells out her name. She makes it half way down the street before the tears start falling. She’s not necessarily sad at the circumstance, more angry that she let this go on for as long as it did. She’s caught him cheating more times than she can count, been stood up for dates and before today, never heard those three words leave his mouth in the almost year they’ve been together.

But none of that matters now, she’s left him for good and she won’t be going back.

The first thing she does when she gets home is grab everything that belonged to or reminded her of him and throws it into a box. Then, she grabs a bottle of wine and plops herself down on the couch to drink away her sorrows. She pulls out her phone and dials the only number worth remembering. It rings once, then twice, and she’s afraid he won’t answer, but halfway through the third ring the call connects.

She doesn’t leave him anytime to greet her, jumping straight to the point, “I finally fucking did it!”

He chuckles into the phone, “Finally had sex, did you?” He jokes.

“I’ll have you know that I am far past that milestone, Dami. I finally dumped my duche of a boyfriend!”

She hears him let out a string of yells, very enthusiastically telling her how happy he is to finally hear that. He, and even the rest of the band, have been telling her to do it for months now. Not that they didn’t like the guy in the beginning, but after he stood her up on her birthday and she came home to him in bed with someone else, they’d had enough.

“Well, this deserves a celebration. Dinner tonight, Vic will bring wine, Ethan and I can cook, Thomas can pick up a cake!”

She laughs at his enthusiasm, but agrees nonetheless.

After hanging up the phone she heads into her room to get ready. It’s just dinner with her friends, but she’s in the mood to look good tonight, so she grabs out one of her favourite dresses and a pair of flats. She’s ready and out the door in under an hour, stopping to pick up some fresh flowers before making her way to Damiano’s apartment.

It’s a nice evening, not too hot and not too cold, the sun at that perfect spot in the sky. She feels good, not at all like how she thought she’d feel. She loved him, but she’s not sure she was in love with him, and she’s glad that she feels no sorrow for closing that chapter in her life.

She arrives at his apartment, shooting him a text to buzz her in and when she enters she’s immediately wrapped in Victoria's arms. “Ah, amore! So good to see you! Come in, let’s drink!”

She giggles at the greeting, always loving how enthusiastic Victoria is when they see each other. She graciously accepts a glass from Thomas, downing the sweet wine in almost one sip. He chuckles at her actions and refills her glass before she has a chance to put it down. She hears the sound of dishes in the kitchen and makes her way over to the two boys cooking. “Buonasera. It smells wonderful in here.”

She hops up on one of the counters, placing her glass beside her, and is met with a round of protests, “Counters are for glasses, not asses miss!” Ethan yells at her.

She giggles but stays put, pointing to her glass beside her, “Ah, but my glass is on the counter.”

He shoots her a glare, but she can see the laugh he’s trying to hide as he turns to continue cooking. Damiano comes to stand in between her legs, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting hug. “How are you mi amore? You okay?”

His voice has a hint of worry laced in it, but she nods her head. “It was a long time coming. I’d mentally done it, just hadn’t physically done it yet. I’ve felt single for months now, and he’s sure been acting like it for longer.”

Damiano moves so he’s standing beside her, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulder, “Well, good riddance!”

She lets out a snort and the two boys begin to laugh, drawing the attention of the other two who walk into the kitchen a moment later.

The night flies by in a flurry of wine and laughter. They enjoy a lovely meal of pasta and chicken, the best salad she’s ever had and an array of cheeses and fruits. They catch each other up on all of the things that’s been going on in their personal lives, and a toast to new beginnings. Thomas brings out a lovely cake with the words “fuck romance” inscribed on top and they forgo dishing it out, everyone grabbing a fork and digging in.

It quickly turns into a drunken mess, Victoria tripping over Ethans legs and dropping cake into his hair. He in turn picks up some frosting and wipes it on her face. Thomas laughs and is met with a glob thrown at him. It’s utter chaos. She turns to get away before she can be brought into the food fight, but Damiano is quick to grab her around the waist and pull her back to the group, shoving a handful of the sweet dessert in her face.

Soon, they are all covered in frosting, giggling like mad men. The dining room is a mess and somehow there is pasta sticking to the walls, and when it’s pointed out they all burst into another fit of laughter. Ethan is quick to take on the roll of housekeeper, moving to the kitchen to collect the cleaning supplies. Victoria and Thomas follow him, clearing dishes and whipping down the walls. Damiano lets them be, knowing they’ll return his apartment to its previous state.

She watches for a moment, before disappearing down the hall to steal a quick shower, not wanting to walk home with frosting crusted in her hair. When she immerges, everything is back to the way it was when she arrived, but the rest of the band is missing. Damiano is lounging out on the balcony, a cigarette between his lips and a coffee beside him.

“Hey,” she says quietly.

“Hey. Wondered where you snuck off to.”

She smiles shyly, taking a seat beside him. “Wanted to rinse the cake out of my hair before I walked home.”

He nods at her, returning to taking small drags from his cigarette. He offers it to her and she graciously accepts it, letting the smoke envelope her lungs in a warm hug. She sighs into the night, knowing she should go home but not wanting to leave. He turns to look at her and it’s like he’s seeing her in a new light.

He’s always felt something towards the young girl, ever since they met back in school, but now it feels different. There’s a feeling brewing in his chest, something he can’t quite place. She turns to look at him then, catching him in his staring act. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Dami?”

“Too many things.”

She nods, knowing exactly what he means. Her head is filled with thoughts, too. There’s a cool breeze that floats around them, raising goosebumps on her arms. Damiano notices and moves to wrap his arms around her, rubbing his hands along her bare arms. They stand like that for a moment, his head buried in her neck, arms wrapped around her.

She’s sure he can hear the beating of her heart, a rapid thumping in her chest. She hasn’t been this close to him in a while, not with the freedom she has now. Ever so slowly, she turns around in his arms until she’s face-to-face with him. Their eyes lock and he leans his forehead down to be touching hers.It would only take a breath for her to be kissing him. Before the thought has even fully crossed her mind, he’s leaning in.

A soft brush of lips, a shot of electricity shooting through her at the contact. He pulls away first, one hand tangled in her hair, the other resting on her hip.

“I love you,” He whispers, and she’s never been more thankful that today isn’t yesterday.

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mcufox123 · 3 years

Text

Poofed

WandaxFemReader

Summary: Wanda copes with a life that may not have you in it.

Warnings: Devestation

A/N: This story literally is heartbreaking but in a good way I think. Let me know what you guys think!

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

You wake up suddenly to your hand being kicked. It was wrapped around your wife’s very pregnant belly as you both tried to sleep through the night. You smiled dreamily in your sleepy state as you were reminded of the twins who would be born any day now.

You and your wife were a part of the famous superhero group who saved the world numerous times. Shortly after she joined and got acclimated with the team the two of you started dating. It has now been 7 years of being together, 3 of them being married. You had moved out of the compound and were now living in your dream house in the countryside, the perfect place for your growing family.

While Wanda was able to take leave months ago as none of the team wanted your children hurt, you still went to work every day. The team promised that once they were born you would be given 3 months to spend with your family but until then “there were still bad guys out there” in Tony's words of course.

You checked the time to see you still had a half an hour to spare before you had to be at the compound. You made Wanda breakfast and set it up next to her then you got ready for your day. You showered, got changed and before you left you wrote two sticky notes to leave on your wife’s mirror. One saying, “I love you more than chocolate chip cookies.” The second said, “You are looking like such a hot mama today.” You left a kiss on Wanda’s forehead and whispered an ‘I love you’ then you went to work.

Wanda woke later that morning with a smile on her face. She saw the breakfast you set up and immediately started eating because she was starving. After her breakfast in bed, she showered before seeing the notes you left. She actually laughed out loud. Even when you weren’t home you always made her day. She sent you a quick text.

Hi my love! Thank you so much for breakfast! I love you more than tv shows!

After that Wanda went about her day normally before she got bored and decided to go to the compound. When she arrived she saw Bucky and Sam watching tv.

“Hey boys,” Wanda said as she set her bag on the counter before walking over and sitting in between the two.

“Hey Wand, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Bucky suddenly jumped into protective older brother mode.

“Sit.” Wanda ordered him, glaring at him. She appreciated the gesture, but she was pregnant and not handicapped.

“Yes Ma’am.” Bucky sat not wanting to make Wanda upset.

“Damn man, if she needs something she’ll tell us right?” Sam asked, turning to Wanda.

“Exactly thank you Sam.” They continued watching TV comfortably every once in a while bantering about something.

“Hey guys, where was y/n’s mission today? I usually hear from her by now if she’s going to be later than 6.” Wanda said realizing the time was now past 6 and she still hasn’t heard anything.

“I think they were in Florida today,” Bucky said, scratching his head trying to remember what Steve told them this morning. “Some mission with aliens that Carol warned them about. They’ll be fine. You’re welcome to stay here in your old room though.” He finished. Wanda thanked him before getting up to move to the kitchen, both men hot on her tail.

“Who is hungry?” Wanda asked as she started to get ingredients out for a caprese chicken dish and some pasta.

“Me, for sure. I missed your cooking so much Wanda.” Sam said, taking a seat at the counter pulling out his phone to que up some songs to listen to while you cooked. Dinner was good and shortly after Wanda went to bed in the now foreign space and begged for sleep to consume her. It was hard because she grew used to your arms wrapped around her with your face pressed into her hair. That night she didn’t get much sleep. She sent you a text letting you know she was sleeping at the compound before she rolled over and tried to shut her eyes.

The following morning Wanda woke up to a still empty bed. Now she started getting nervous, she searched for her phone to see no new messages. She took her time getting out of bed but quickly threw on the clothes she was wearing yesterday before heading to the kitchen.

As she was almost there she could hear Steve talking.

“So Wanda’s here?” Steve asked the person he was talking to.

“Yeah she came yesterday and we just told her to stay. So wait, you're telling me that these things just hit a button then poofed with Tony and y/n? Are they alive?” Wanda could now tell the other person was Bucky. She felt like she couldn’t breath, feeling the wind knocked out of her at the words she just heard. She couldn’t hide any longer and barged into the kitchen.

Her hands instantly went into a fighting position holding Steve in a tight grasp so he couldn’t escape.

“Where is she Steve? What happened? You promised me no life or death missions. You promised me she would always come back to me. She said she would never go away.” Wanda said while breaking towards the end and crumpling to the ground. Bucky went over and wrapped her in a hug.

After a few minutes Bucky put Wanda on the couch as now the rest of the team came in and Pepper with her two small children. Steve went over what happened on the mission and how they have no trace of either of their teammates. He made everyone aware that Thor, Carol, and the Guardians of the Galaxy were all in search of their friends.

Wanda felt so lost. Your twins were expected any day and you were gone. How was she going to do it if you weren’t back? How was she going to be strong for your two little ones if you weren’t there? The questions swarmed her head as she tuned out the rest of the team. After hours of talking the team now turned to their tuned out friend to offer some support.

“When was the last time you ate?” Clint asked Wanda, putting his hand on her shoulder to ground her.

“I don't know.” Wanda shook her head still thinking a million miles a minute not making eye contact with anyone.

“Wanda you need to eat. You have two other people to worry about. Y/N will be ok, she will come back.” Steve said, sitting next to her. She collapsed in tears and that was how the rest of the night went, crying and the team forcing Wanda to eat.

The following days Wanda barely left the bed. On the 4th day of you being missing Wanda felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Her eyes started to tear up from both pain and the realization of what was happening. She was going into labor without you. She screamed out in pain and heartbreak.

Steve rushed into the room as soon as he heard Wanda scream, “It’s ok Wanda we’re here, let's get you to the infirmary.” he held Wanda’s hand all the way down to the infirmary. Steve sent a text out to the rest of the team to let them know what was happening and soon familiar faces appeared in Wanda’s room.

They took shifts as they waited for the time to push. Natasha talked about the makeshift nursery they set up for Wanda, Bucky talked about how he got clothes for Wanda and the babies from Wanda’s home, Steve talked about schedules and shifts he made up to help Wanda, Sam bought stuffed animals, and Peter offered to take the babies to the playground. Wanda just sat and listened, grateful for her friends and the help they were giving her. All she could think about was how you should be there.

You should be freaking out everytime Wanda had a contraction, asking if she should get the doctor. She knew you would try to find her favorite shows on the TV and rub her back whispering soothing words. She needed that more than anything, she needed you. She needed you to be there for your twins first breath, for bringing them home, for the countless sleepless nights.

Soon the doctor entered the room, “Wanda it looks like you are ready to push,” nurses entered behind them with all of the equipment needed for the babies’ delivery. Wanda nodded trying to prepare herself for the experience that was moments away. “Would you like anyone in the room with you?” and Wanda did, she wanted you but you weren’t there. So she asked her best friend Nat to stay with her to which Nat agreed.

They got into position and Wanda endured the hardest fight of her life, childbirth. She could’ve sworn she broke Natasha’s hand from how hard she was squeezing. Soon a melodic sound broke through the pain as her first child was born. “It’s a boy!” she heard and she started to cry of joy. She had a son. The joy didn’t last as she felt another urge to push. “And we have another boy!”

Wanda was so relieved that both boys were here and healthy. You kept telling her that you could feel it was two boys, two football players, you would say. They brought the babies to wanda and laid them on her chest. Nat was quick to snap a quick photo before exiting the room to let the rest of the team know, giving Wanda a moment with her children.

Nat walked out of the room to see no one in the waiting room. She asked the nurse where everyone was who informed her that they were outside. She walked quickly outside hoping you were back. Instead she saw someone else. Tony on his hands and knees crying while the rest of the team was surrounding him.

“What? Where’s Y/N?” Bucky was the first to speak. Everyone was too scared to hear what happened, why Tony was back but not Y/n.

“I don’t know. One minute we were in a room being questioned the next thing I know y/n lunged at the guy questioning us. She was fighting with him for the poof thing. Then after she successfully got it we realized only one of us could go back while the other had to hit the button. She didn’t even give me a second. And now, now here I am and she is there. Where’s Wanda I have to tell her something?” Tony suddenly looked frantic.

“No, you’re going with Bruce to do everything you can to get Y/N back.” Clint said, poking Tony in the chest. “You are not doing anything else until she’s back. And you definitely are not seeing Wanda. That girl just had to give birth to twins without y/n, she’s destroyed.” Clint walked back into the infirmary while everyone was still in shock.

“I ‘m sorry. I ‘m going to bring her back.” Tony promised before walking towards the lab to get in contact with the people who were already searching for y/n.

Meanwhile Wanda was still in awe of the two boys in her arms, memorizing all of their features. She knew their names, you and her had picked out the names for all twin scenarios and for two boys it’d be Tommy and Billy. She started to hum a tune she remembered as a child. She started to get upset as she remembered the last time she hummed the song.

You had just walked in from a long day helping in the lab and training. You saw Wanda in the kitchen cooking dinner before turning to see you. She gave you the biggest smile as she came over to wrap her arms around you. Her pregnant stomach left some room between you two as she reached up to plant a kiss on your lips.

“How was your day my love?” she asked walking back to the stove to turn it off and putting the food on the table.

“I'm so tired. Tony was going on about this new feature he wants to make for the quinjet and then Nat beat my ass at training. I don't want to do anything.” Wanda sensing your mood guided you to the couch she sat then pulled you down so your head was on her lap. She played with your hair to calm you down.

“The babies were very active today kicking the heck out of me” she giggled to which you turned your face to her stomach. You placed your hands on her stomach.

“Hey you two, stop kicking mama. I know you want to play football but you're gonna have to wait till you come out of there.”

“How do you know they’ll want to play football?” She questioned you.

“I can just feel it in my bones.” You said as your eyes fluttered close. Dinner was long forgotten as Wanda continued to play with your hair humming the tune and you drifted off to sleep.

The following week after the twins’ birth was very hard for Wanda. She went through all the firsts by herself. Instead of going through the first night with you she went through it alone. Instead of bringing them home together with big smiles she took them to her room in the compound. Instead of introducing the twins to the team with you they were all by Wanda’s side before she could introduce them.

She spent the nights in bed. Someone on the team was always sleeping on a cot to help her during the nights. It had been 11 days since you went missing and you had already missed the biggest week of your little family’s life.

On the 11th day Wanda left the sleeping twins with a sleeping Uncle Bucky and roamed around the compound seeing you everywhere she went. In the kitchen where you both cooked dinner for the team all the time. On the couch where you spent countless nights watching tv shows and movies. In the training room where you pinned Wanda more times then she likes to admit. Then she headed towards the lab.

She stood shocked.

Right in front of her was a man that betrayed her. A man that you had put your life in the hands of who disappointed you. She stormed at him in a fit of rage. “You son of a bitch! Where is she? What did you do to her? I'm going to kill you!” Wanda screamed at him while hitting his chest. Tony let her, knowing that this was what she needed. Wanda continued to curse him out before Tony finally grabbed her hands.

“Stop. I get it. I'm the bad guy, and I deserve to be. I messed up the biggest moment of both of your lives. You can keep hitting me, knock me out, whatever you have to do. There is something I have to show you first though.” Tony let go of Wanda’s hands before walking to the screen to pull up a video for Wanda.

When it came through it was you. You were sitting in a bare room and Tony was asleep on the floor behind you. Your hair was a mess and you looked exhausted.

“Friday is it recording? Yes? Ok here we go. If anyone is watching this I probably did something stupid and I ‘m so sorry. If it’s Wanda hi babe. Man, I think it’s been 3 days and I miss you like crazy. I ‘m trying to figure out a way to get back to you and the babies I promise.” Wanda can feel the tears rolling down her face. “Well I think I have a plan. You aren’t going to like it but I promise you that it will all work out and I will come back to you. Babe I don't have much time they are coming back. I love you and our twins so much. I am going to do everything to come back to you.” Then the screen went black.

“Play it again, Tony.” Wanda asked Tony and he did. She watched it about 10 more times. Just hearing your voice made Wanda feel better.

“Thank you for showing me that. Can you send it to me?” Wanda asked, keeping her eyes locked on yours on the screen. Tony nodded and Wanda walked out of the room back to the twins.

After that day Wanda had hope. She knew you would come back to her. She watched that video every night on repeat to fall asleep too. She played it for the twins and other videos of you so they could hear your voice. The team noticed the change in Wanda as well. They were very skeptical but didn’t question her mood change.

After a month of you being missing Wanda had almost given up hope. Tommy was fussy and Billy had an explosion in his diaper and it was the first time the team had all gone on a mission so no one was with her. She was crying while changing Billy’s diaper while using her powers to rock Tommy’s baby seat.

“Ah boys, it’s ok mamas here. We’ll be ok sh sh sh.” She was so frustrated she couldn’t even get the diaper on Billy. There were a few more minutes of Tommy crying and Billy and now Wanda before she heard Tommy stop. She didn’t even turn around; she figured he just fell asleep.

When she turned with Billy in her arms she was shocked to see the person standing in front of her. It was the love of her life with her son. A sight Wanda never thought she would see. You looked skinnier, tons of bruises and cuts littered your skin. Your clothes were tattered and your hair was a mess in your face. Wanda thought you still looked just as beautiful. She had Billy in her arms as she slowly walked towards you not believing her eyes. She reached up and touched your face to make sure you were there. And you were.

With Tommy in one hand you reached up with your other to place on top of Wanda’s. “Hey there stranger.” You said with a chuckle. She wrapped her arm around you and started sobbing. You put Tommy in the bassinet still holding onto Wanda then reached for Billy placing him next to his brother. Then you did the thing you had been wanting to do forever.

You held onto Wanda as she sobbed in your arms. You stroked her hair while whispering “I’m here,” over and over in her ear.

Your arms were around Wanda but your eyes were on your twins. You soon began to cry, realizing how much time you missed. Wanda pulled away when she felt something drip on her shoulder.

“It’s ok my love you’re here now. You won’t miss anything else. You’re here.” Wanda promised with her hands on either side of your face to make you look at her. You leaned down and gave your love a long awaited kiss. Both of you being grateful to have the other there to comfort each other.

You soon pulled away from Wanda to look at your twins.

“I told you two football players.” You chuckled as you picked up the other baby who you have not held yet. “Who is who?”

“That’s Billy and this is Tommy.” She said while picking up the other baby. You both made your way to the bed with the twins and got comfortable next to each other. You stared at them trying to take in the two people who were now your own.

“I’m so sorry I missed all of it. I tried to get back as fast as I could. I really did. I thought when I sent Tony back it was going to be hours and I would be back. But I see metal man's mind isn’t what it used to be.” You rambled on. You wanted Wanda to know just how sorry you were.

“It’s ok. You’re here now and I’m not letting them take you anywhere. You’re staying with us for as long as I want.” Wanda assured you. You sat with your family for hours just basking in their presence and soaking it all in. You changed every diaper and did anything Wanda needed until she ordered you to go shower. While watching your 7th episode of grey's anatomy you dozed off with the babies between you and Wanda.

You only woke when you heard the rest of your rag tag group of friends enter the compound from their latest mission not even trying to be quiet. You turned to see Wanda still awake nursing Billy.

“Should we scare them?” You asked Wanda with a grin on your face. “You can if you want.” She didn’t feel one way or the other. Knowing how much the team helped her while you were missing.

You stood up and hid behind the closed door. It opened halfway.

“Hey Wanda how’d everything go?” Steve asked, you could feel multiple people enter the room however.

“Boo!” you jumped out to scare the team. Bucky not knowing it was you punched you in the stomach.

“Ah shit sorry y/n.” he said before recognition came to his eyes and the others. “Wait y/n?” he stared in disbelief. Nat was the first to tackle you in a hug before the others were soon to follow.

“How, how, how did you get back?” Tony asked with tears in his eyes.

“Well I thought you would figure it out quickly once I sent you back but that didn’t happen. I kept waiting and finally decided to just do it myself. I befriended another prisoner who promised to poof me back. And then when they did I was in the training room. I got Wanda’s text and just assumed she was still here and made my way up to her room.” They all said how happy they were that you were back. You ate dinner as a family and spent the night in your room with your beautiful wife and boys.

“Let’s go home tomorrow.” you suggested to your half asleep wife in your arms.

“You are my home.” she said and you felt warmth well up in your chest.

“I love you so much darling.” you nuzzled closer to her.

“I love you more.” and you both fell into a deep sleep which neither of you had had for a long time.

171 notes · View notes

whump-town · 3 years

Text

The Traveling T-Shirt

No Pairings

No Warnings

It's just Morgan's t-shirt traveling through the BAU one person and story at a time

It starts with a coffee spill in Seattle. With Aaron, startlingly enough.

Six days in the rain and it seemed even their cleanest, driest clothing was damp with the chill from the constant downpour. Though, six days on their feet with clothing they’d already worn at least twice that week on their backs, they looked more and more “rag-tag” as the hours bore on. Even Hotch had lost his cookie-cutter charm. His white t-shirt crumpled where it was typically pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight. His hair wouldn’t stay gelled into the style he liked it in, leaving it fluffy and soft on the top of his head. He looked significantly less like SSA Aaron Hotchner and a lot more like Aaron.

Maybe he had lost SSA Hotchner somewhere along the days and victims because SSA Hotchner would never spill coffee on himself. But Aaron would and Aaron did.

Derek watched the whole thing take place, unable to take his eyes off of Hotch since the second that he walked in. Something about his tired zombie-like lurches just couldn’t break Derek’s curiosity and he had to know what would come out of Hotch’s current state. Despite the far-away look in Hotch’s gaze, the tired bags of discoloration under his eyes, Derek would not have predicted this as the outcome. Hotch is so out of it that all he can do is stare at the mess he’s created, glaring at the mess of coffee grounds across his less than pristine white dress shirt.

“Here,” Derek shakes his head, has to manually clear the fog occupying his brain. He pulls at the loose clump of napkins someone had left atop the coffee table for this exact situation, presses the mass into Hotch’s stomach. It feels akin to something else, distinctly deja-vu. Like he’s pressing into a wound, holding him together with nothing more than cheap napkins.

The physical contact brings Hotch back to the Earth and with a few blinks of his blood-shot eyes he sighs irritably and mumbles, “I don’t have any more clean shirts.”

Derek would argue the one he’s currently wearing is not clean either. It’s got a few dots of red expo marker on the left elbow where Reid bumped into him, rambling quickly about his map and the geographical profile. On the cuff of his right sleeve, there’s something brown or black which could be something from a pen or an expo marker or something else he’s just stuck his hand in. God knows what else is on this shirt.

Hotch puts his hand over Derek’s, holds the napkins himself. Derek pats his shoulder, “it’s alright, man. I’ll get you a shirt.”

They could go just about anywhere and just buy him a shirt. It could be some looney graphic t-shirt from the boy’s sections of some store down the street or another white dress shirt to replace the one he’s wearing but Derek just gets one of his. It’s a light grey, the color worn down by how frequently Derek wears it. Where it fits Derek snugly, hugs his chest and back tightly, it fits Hotch oddly. Displays to them all just how right they were in the assumptions they have held about how his recent divorce is affecting him.

He’s lost weight.

Too much.

One thin grey Hanes t-shirt can’t fight off the chill and overtop it, covering his visible bones, Dave throws him a sweater. He stays buried in that sweater and shirt all day, long into the night as they go hunting out in the streets with flashlights. Rain comes down heavy and thick.

Dave gets his sweater back. Folded neatly and smelling of the distinct fabric softener Hotch uses, it makes his whole office smell nice and Dave nearly can’t bring himself to wear the thing again. Doesn’t want the scent to fade, every inch of that sweater is now stitched together with something more.

The t-shirt gets left at the bottom of a drawer, to be discovered months from now.

Emily finds it six nights after Foyet left Hotch in Saint Sebastion’s hospital held together by sugrical staples and the stubborn will to live. All of his clothing has been hunted through, his shirt drawer is nearly empty. JJ and Penelope had undertaken the job of finding Hotch clothing for the hospital -- anything that he could just slip his arms into without having to lift them above his head. The only things left in his drawers are regular t-shirts and jeans, meaning Emily doesn’t have a whole lot to pick through right now.

She hadn’t anticipated this need and as much forethought as she put into staying the night was assuming Hotch would have clothes she could steal. She hadn’t really thought she’d be here tonight but she doesn’t think she can leave him alone. Doesn’t think it would be kind of her as his friend to see him like this and still choose to leave him for the night.

She decides on a thin grey shirt that she finds, turning her nose up to his university t-shirts (as if she’d wear those) and a pair of sweat pants on his floor that she thinks are clean or at least don’t smell bad. It’s not the best but she came unprepared and she’s not going to complain, both are comfortable even if the pants are giant on her.

To her surprise, he’s still fighting off his meds. Hazy brown eyes blink open when she steps back out into the living room, following her as she comes to the couch. She’s careful, even if she does it nonchalantly, as she moves his legs a little so that she can sit down beside him. He’s stretched across the couch, too big so he’s pinched up in places, but he doesn’t want to sleep in his room. Stubborn like a child being asked to take a nap -- “but I’m not tired”.

“T’as not my shirt,” he mumbles into his blanket. He’s got the heating blanket pulled up his nose, wrapped tightly around his shoulders and hands.

Emily looks down at it and frowns. “Well, then who the hell else’s is it?” She reaches for the TV remote on the coffee table, turning it on without waiting for his answer. Clearly, she doesn’t care who’s it is, she’s not taking it off now. His grunt, muffled by the blanket, means he doesn’t know and he doesn’t really care enough either to figure out who it is.

He doesn’t last much longer, falls asleep with her squishing him on the couch (though, arguably, he’s squishing her). She’ll brush off his timid embarrassment at having to need her around the next morning, for waking up in the middle of the night having to be held down. Sobbing incoherently about something, neither of them really sure what. Only calming down when she put his head in her lap, stroking his hair back until he fell back asleep. Which is how he wakes up, his head in her lap and his hand holding her’s hostage.

But she shrugs it off and says she only did it for the free shirt, “don’t worry about it.”

She keeps the shirt, uses it several more nights as they graduate from sleeping on the couch to him finally going back to his bed. To being mentally present enough again to fight her about taking meds, to walking her to the front door every night, and watching her leave.

She buries the shirt too. It feels too tight on her skin, wrong. She touches the material and remembers seeing him hysterical, writhing in pain, and unable to be comforted. Can smell the antiseptic from his skin. Can hear the doctor warning her about his heart. That shirt feels like losing her best friend but she can’t bring herself to get rid of it.

JJ uncovers it a year later (before Emily has done the unspeakable, the unimaginable, and died and come back to life). It’s a girls night gone wrong but not impossibly so.

“Just grab one of my shirts,” Emily says, still laughing.

JJ glares back at her. She’s covered in water from the sink -- Emily sprayed her with the faucet. It’s revenge, payback for the pasta sauce JJ swiped down her cheek.

“You two are devious,” Penelope insists, waving her fingers at them. She’s still chopping up mushrooms, trying to size them as best as she can so that they are spread evenly throughout the alfredo sauce. “Behave before you ruin the sauce and I have to tell Dave that I not only shared his recipe but that you two ruined it.”

JJ has to search for a shirt from Emily’s pajama drawer. She doesn’t want any of the old college shirts and certainly doesn’t want any of the dopey graphic t-shirts Emily is so partial to. She ends up on a grey shirt, worn and old and soft.

Emily knows the shirt the second the JJ comes out and it takes her a moment to hide and stifle the anxiety that its presence gives her. Hotch’s health is better, he’s got a routine down with the medication he’ll be taking for the rest of his life because of that attack, but he’s smiling again. It’s harder than it was before to win one out of him but he can do it, they happen.

“Which one-night stand is this?” JJ asks, plucking the shirt with her fingers and raising an eyebrow.

Emily shakes her head, clears her throat of the residual guilt, and smirks, “trust me, you don’t want to know.” Hotch would be mortified at the insinuation but it’s funny and what he doesn’t know (and what they don’t know) can’t hurt him. She’s sad to see the shirt go, it’s a door closed, but relieved of its burden she can breathe again. Feels Foyet leave her completely.

JJ goes unburdened.

That old shirt is a comfort. She nurses Henry through fevers in it. Uses its edge to wipe his tears from his face. It’s always at the top of her laundry basket, the first thing she puts on when she gets home from a rough case. Will isn’t sure where she got it from because he knows it’s not his. It’s not the first time JJ’s stolen someone else’s clothes (he’s picked up enough of them to know that Reid wears a size small, that dark shirts sized medium are Morgan, and that white t-shirts in a medium are Hotch’s). He thinks it’s cute, she’s been stealing his shirts for as long as he’s known her.

In October, the fall of the same year that Emily leaves for Interpol, JJ gets held up in a meeting with Hotch. Something to do the with Department of Justice and all she manages to get out over the phone is that she’s absolutely pissed and Reid can just faintly hear Hotch offering her a coffee before she thanks him and the line goes dead. Will is on night shift and he can’t come home. So Reid fills in, their impromptu babysitter for the night.

It’s fine, calm… for the most part.

Reid lasts about an hour and a half before he finds himself in need of a change of clothes. He’s got pumpkin all over him and his fun little idea to let Henry carve a baby pumpkin was obviously a bad idea. He just didn’t know that in advance. He’s watched Jack enough times to feel fully confident in his skills but the age gap between Henry and Jack is severe. There are a lot of developmental differences in children only two years apart in age, Reid was not prepared for that.

He feels weird about stealing a shirt but his own is soaked in pumpkin guts and Henry’s bathwater.

JJ doesn’t notice the shirt exchange. She just grins at the sight of Spencer and Henry curled up on the couch, Will sitting beside them eating popcorn while “It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” plays softly.

Three days later Morgan sees his shirt on the back of the couch. It’s been washed and is waiting to be returned to JJ but he knows damn well that it’s his. “How the hell did you find this?” Morgan asks, lifting it up. Reid had called him over to fix a leaking pipe (Reid is supposed to call his Super who has a mechanic who can do it but he’s too anxious for that) and Morgan was less than prepared to find his missing shirt.

Reid frowns, confused, “that’s JJ’s. I borrowed it Thursday night when I babysat.”

Morgan shakes his head, no this is his shirt. He’s sure of it. It’s been gone for years. He thought the washing machine ate it. He couldn't remember where else it would have gone off to. That or he left it in some hotel but here it is. Grey and worn and soft, it’s his.

He takes it to work in his go-bag and all but rolls his eyes into the back of his head when he watches Garcia stumble and drench herself in cold, left-over tea. He stands from his desk, sighing hard, “it’s alright, baby girl. I’ve got a shirt you can borrow.”

He’s never getting this shirt back.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #dererk morgan #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #penelope garcia

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles (part 7)

a/n: aaand part 7 is finally here! however i want to warn yall that we are nearing the end of NHIE, im planning on having one more part and i don’t think it’ll be any longer, so enjoy while it lasts! lmao as always, feedback is very much appreciated!

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

word count: 5.7k

warning: some slight violence? it’s the good kind, you’ll see lmao

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Sitting in your trailer you stare down at your phone longingly, rereading Harry’s last text.

“Miss you, hope everything is alright. Facetime when you’re free?”

You hate how your chest is aching at such a small and sweet thing. If you had the chance, you’d run into Harry’s arms without a second thought, but you are stuck in Atlanta while he is currently back in LA, feeling farther away than ever, in every sense.

It’s been three weeks since you left the city and parted ways with Harry. You hated it. You absolutely hated how he was looking at you and how you was about to cry in his fucking Range Rover as he was dropping you off at the airport. You tried to make it quick so you don’t get too caught up in the moment, but the moment he kissed you, it was over for you. For a split second you were ready to cancel on the whole movie and just stick with the plans you made before you got the role, but that wasn’t really an option.

Since that day, Harry has been very respectful of your will to keep some distance, he always checks in before trying to call to make sure you have time, he doesn’t text you about the most random things like he used to, maybe because you both are so busy, you basically live on set while he has left for his tour exactly a week ago, and you can tell he is trying his best to never even mention Levi.

The news that you’d have to work with your ex came as a punch in your stomach. Taiki contacted you himself to talk to you about his choice to include Levi in the movie. He has informed you that they all agreed on him at the end of the casting process, but he wanted to make sure it’s okay by you as well. What would have you said? You wouldn’t just start off a project with getting someone out of the movie before filming even started. You had no choice but to suck it up and say that it’s all fine.

Now you are stuck to see him almost every day and spend your free time with him as well since he is always the first one to show up when a little group of the cast is out and about. He has always been such a social butterfly, though now you wish he would just lock himself up in his hotel room and not show up until he is needed on set.

Levi has been trying. He’s been pushing on your nerves, always coming up to chit-chat, like there’s nothing weird or absurd about the situation, but there’s plenty. Seeing that the last time you two saw each other you threw a book at him and he threatened you to sue you if you dare to even say his name ever again. Your breakup was the definition of nasty while the rest of the world just noticed a quiet and uneventful parting, photos disappearing from Instagram and awkward smiles whenever either of you were asked about the other.

While you are all about being civil and professional, what he has been doing feels like he is trying to get under your skin, testing your patience with him, which is starting to run short.

For an outsider he is acting perfectly fine, even human towards you, but you know him all too well, you know all his little tricks and moves because you used to be an expert on the topic of Levi Hudson.

Huffing to yourself you get back to the text and type a quick reply.

“Still on set, I have two more scenes to film. Will text you when I’m back at the hotel xx”

You wish you could call him right away, you wish he was here with you and you wish you didn’t have to go back to set and face Levi once again. You really thought you’d get entirely consumed by work once filming starts and run short on time and energy to even think about Harry, but it hasn’t been the case. He is all you can think about, you always catch yourself wondering what he is doing, how his day has been or if he is thinking about you too. You cling onto your phone the moment they yell Cut! and frantically check if he has texted you. It’s taking a toll on you and you can only hope you’ll last until the movie is wrapped and you can finally join him on tour, just like you planned.

“Hey there,” Maya steps out of her own trailer when you turn the corner and she catches up with you quickly. “Wha’s up?”

“Just plotting how I can leave early,” you huff, making her laugh. You’ve become the closest to her, you right away bonded when you met at the table read and she caught you grimacing behind Levi’s back when you thought no one was looking. She came up and simply told you she doesn’t like him for literal no reason, he just has a punchable face and an alliance was formed right then and there.

“Oh Honey, let me know when you figured it out,” she chuckles, circling an arm around your shoulders as you both make your way to the set laughing.

Trying your best, you focus fully on the job on hand so you can leave as soon as possible, call Harry and go to bed. Today has been way longer than you would have liked and you just need to get away from set, despite how much you enjoy filming in general. Sometime during the taping Harry texts you that he is free whenever you are and will be waiting for your call and it just makes you even keener on leaving.

When filming is finally finished, you find yourself storm out faster than ever, already ringing up Harry as you are walking back towards your trailer. When he answers the call, his smiley face fills the screen and you feel your heart flutter in your chest.

“Hey! Done for the day?” he asks, seemingly eating something as he talks.

“Luckily,” you breathe out. “What are you eating?”

A blush appears on his pixelated face as he glances down and grabs his bowl, showing it into the camera. He is eating your pesto pasta recipe.

“I had a strong craving for it,” he shyly tells. “It’s not as good as yours though.”

“There’s nothing to do different about it, H,” you chuckle.

“I know, but it’s different when you make it,” he smiles and his words warm your chest. Just as you are about to tease him about being so corny, you hear your name being called out. Turning around you see Levi jogging towards you.

“Here we fucking go,” you mumble, not ending the call with Harry who is a little confused about the situation since he can’t see the intruder in your conversation.

“Are you heading back to the hotel?” he asks, catching up with you.

“Yeah, I wasn’t planning on sleeping in my trailer,” you answer with a frown.

“Wanna share a car?”

“Why would I?” you simply ask.

“What’s with the attitude, Y/N?” he scoffs as if he was an angel and deserved all the respect on earth.

“Why do you keep coming up to me?”

“Because I’m trying to be nice!” he snaps, but it’s all for the wrong reason. You don’t buy this shit, nice is the last thing he is trying to be and you know that for sure.

“No, you keep getting on my nerves and you know that! We don’t have to interact outside of set and I want to keep it that way, Levi!”

“Now you are being a bitch, Y/N.”

“Excuse you?” Harry’s voice is coming from your phone’s speaker and you suddenly realize that he is still there, listening to the conversation. You glance down at the screen and see his now angry expression on it.

“Who’s that?” Levi nods towards the phone with a frown, but then realization must hit him. “Is that Harry Styles you’re talking to?”

“None of your fucking business, Levi. And leave me the fuck alone.” Turning around you start marching back to your trailer that’s now so close, but once again, his voice stops you.

“You’re making a fool out of yourself, Y/N!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you snap back at him, one hand already on the door handle of your trailer, the other one holding your phone.

“If you think he wants more than just a good fuck and some publicity out of you, you’re delusional.”

“Fuck you, Levi!” you flip him off before walking into the trailer and shutting the door behind you.

With your back against the door you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, fighting with yourself not to go back out and kick him in the stomach. This is how it has been, he starts acting all nice, pretending like he is the good buy, but when he doesn’t get the reaction he wants, he is quick to show his real, asshole self he keeps hidden.

“Angel? You alright?” Harry’s voice brings you back from your thoughts and once again, you realize that he is still in call, staring from the screen with a worried expression on his handsome face.

Taking another deep breath you bring the phone up so he can finally see your face.

“Sorry you had to hear all of that,” you mumble, feeling way more tired than you were just a few minutes ago.

“Don’t apologize, it’s none of your fault. But I gotta ask, has he been this big of a dick since the start?”

“Kind of,” you sigh, walking further inside. You put the phone to the little vanity, propping it up against the mirror as you start washing your makeup off.

“Have you tried doing something against it? You really shouldn’t let him treat you like that.”

“I’m not trying to be the whiny star who gets someone kicked out. I don’t know what others would think if I told Levi is being a jerk to me, because he is fine with everyone else. Maya is the only one who knows about it, so I’m kind of stuck.”

“Then just punch him,” he suggests making you laugh.

“I wish I could.”

“Want to talk about it? I would love to listen to you talk about how big of a dick your ex is and about your hatred towards him,” he tells you, way too excited about the topic and it makes you chuckle.

“Let’s not talk about him, I get enough of him all day. But not enough of you.”

It just slips out, way too cheesy than you intended it to be, but it makes him smile so you don’t mind it.

“Is this your way of being casual?” he chuckles softly.

“Shut up,” you grin. “Tell me about your day while I get ready to leave.”

You listen to Harry tell you about his day in the smallest details as you clean your face, brush your hair out and change into your own clothes, finally feeling like yourself again. You’re talking even when you’re already in the car, but that’s when it ends.

“Talk tomorrow, Angel?” he murmurs, now lying in his bead, propped up against the headboard without a shirt on.

“Yeah. I’ll be off around five so just call me whenever your show is over.”

“Will do. Take care, alright? And… just hang on a little longer.”

“A little?” you huff. “There are still two more months to go.”

“You can do it. Text me whenever you want to talk, alright?” You just quietly nod, ignoring the ache in your chest. You want nothing else than to crawl into bed with him, curl up against him and never leave from under the covers.

“Good night, Angel,” he smiles sweetly.

“Night, H,” you sigh before ending the call.

An hour later you are already in your hotel room, wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, lying in bed as you scroll through Instagram, aimlessly opening posts here and there. The explore page is always a mess, you like so many different things that Instagram sometimes can’t decide what to show you, but that’s just how you like it. Lately it’s been a lot of Harry on there, given the fact that you’ve often found yourself lurking photos of him when you were missing him more than the usual.

When a paparazzi photo comes up of him from yesterday, having lunch with Kendall Jenner you can’t help but feel the jealousy ignite a fire inside you. It’s not like you didn’t know they met up, he told you a week before it and even asked if you are cool with it, to which you said that you are not an official item and you’d never tell him not to see a friend, even if it happens to be an ex as well. After all, you were the last one to throw a stone at him since you are now working with yours, even if it’s a living Hell.

But after such a draining day, seeing him have a good time so far away from you with a woman who is not you, your opinion about the situation seems to be different.

You’ve never been that extremely jealous type and you are also very much aware that you have no right to feel this way, but… you do. Scrolling through the few paparazzi photos that has nothing odd on them, just the two of them sitting at a table on a terrace, enjoying their meal and then leaving in separate cars, you can’t help but tear them apart to the tiniest detail, your brain fixated to find the smallest thing that tell you that they have something more than friendship going on, when you also know damn well sure that there’s no such thing. Harry has talked to you openly about his friendship with Kendall, how they tried to make it work two times but both of them ended up the same way: they realized they are far better as just friends and that’s how they’ve been since then.

But because of the distance, your horrible days with Levi and your agonizing feelings about wanting to be with Harry but also not being able to, you find yourself letting out a silent cry as you close the app, but the pictures still haunt you.

Before you could even think twice, you are kneeling in front of the minibar you haven’t touched since you arrived, but now you’re determined to empty it out, paying extra attention to the alcoholic drinks.

You are well aware that it’s not how you should be coping with the situation on hand, but you don’t know what else to do. You were the one who told Harry not to make things official, there’s nothing you can do against the distance between the two of you and you are stuck with Levi for the rest of filming as well. You have no other choices but to somehow dumb the pain that’s been torturing you silently ever since you found out you got the role.

It’s nerve wrecking, because this role means so much to your career, you know it’s your big chance to be finally taken as seriously as you’ve always dreamed about, but does it worth it? If you lose yourself along the way and everything that’s been making you happy lately, does it still worth just to have an Oscar nomination, which is not even guaranteed, just a speculation.

It’s past one am when you run out of drinks, but because of the small portions, you are just buzzing, not really drunk. But it’s enough to make you lose your rationality and snatch your phone from the bed and open your text threat with Harry.

“I miss you. A lot, like a whole lot.”

You send the text before you could change your mind and for your biggest surprise the status changes to seen just a few moments later before the three little dots start dancing on the bottom.

“I miss you too, Angel. Everything alright?”

Harry knows you too well, you wouldn’t just text after you’ve talked on FaceTime before and you’re usually asleep by this time, since filming starts early in the morning usually.

“Do you really miss me?” you write back with a heavy sigh.

“You can’t even imagine how much…”

“Tell me. How much?”

“I’ve written three songs about you since we parted. Does that tell you how much I miss you?”

“Oh fuck!” you choke out, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t want to be in this hotel room anymore, damn the movie, Levi and the Oscar, you need Harry. Now.

“Can’t wait to hear them all.”

“There’ll be plenty more, Angel. Get ready for a whole album!”

The pictures with Kendall are long forgotten. Now you’re just lying in bed, rereading the texts over and over again until your eyelids get too heavy and you fall asleep, still clinging onto the device.

***

After years of being an independent and strong woman you’ve always aspired to be, you find yourself only focusing on two men to keep your nerves stable enough to stop you from breaking down every other day: Oscar and Harry.

The possibility to win an Oscar is what you think of every time Levi is pulling on your nerves, working harder than the devil to make you burst while acting like a saint in front of everyone. His attempts of ruining your days every imaginable are getting worse as the time passes and when thinking about the Oscar doesn’t help, you reach out to Harry. You’ve felt terribly at the beginning when you kept calling him whenever you felt like screaming after an encounter with Levi, even apologized for it, but he made sure you know he doesn’t mind it, not even the tiniest bit.

“I’m happy I’m the one you come to for comfort. I like that you’re thinking about me,” he told you one night when you called him so late, but he still answered.

Today has been extra hard. Two weeks have passed since your little late night breakdown when you emptied your mini bar out and felt like leaving Atlanta as soon as possible. Luckily, the morning came with an ease, though the pain was still there, you just managed to bottle it up enough to make you keep going.

You’ve been on set since 4 in the morning, having shot some scenes during sunrise and you’ve been going since then. Now it’s four pm, you are desperate for a good sleep already, but you still have some hours to go before you can head back to the hotel.

It seems like Levi has made it his mission to make you cry today. His latest favorite thing has been throwing shade about fellow actors who end up being the talk of gossip sites because they’ve dared to go on a public date with another celebrity. So, just to be clear, he is shaming you for being all over the tabloids, people are still speculating about you and Harry and Levi doesn’t hesitate to call you out about that in a sugarcoated way.

All he has been saying all day is “I guess I’m just more careful about my privacy!” or “Everyone is different, but I like to be noticed for my professional success!” but your favorite was “I get it that women need more effort to stay relevant.”

You were shocked how no one else realized how sexist he was, but deep down you weren’t that surprised. Levi successfully brainwashed everyone to make them believe he didn’t think it seriously, when you know for a fact that even if it was just to piss you off, he really meant it. You were once one of those who couldn’t really see how wrong his beliefs are and now you can’t believe you used to ignore all these sexist comments, but now they make your palms itch.

“You know, you once were just like that. I still remember us being on the covers,” you snapped back at him before everyone left for lunch and it was just the two of you, but he just snorted, brushing it off.

“Hated it. Always felt like just a toy they like to throw around.”

You needed all your self-control not to laugh right into his face and then jump at his throat. Instead, you just watch him walk away and you are quick to fetch your phone from your bag to text Harry, but then you realize that he hasn’t texted you back in the past ten hours. Your last four messages are sitting not just unanswered but unread as well so you talk yourself down from sending another one. It’s odd, because he always tells you when he is about to be busy, but he didn’t this time and you wonder if you’ve said or did something that upset him with you enough to stop talking to you. But then you tell yourself that something must have just come up.

“Hey girl!” Maya calls out for you, already dressed in her own clothes since she is done for the day. “I’m heading out to lunch with Timmy, want to join? Please don’t say you’ll just order in and stay in your trailer!”

“Only if Levi is not coming,” you grumble making her chuckle.

“Don’t worry, it’s just gonna be cool people.”

You both take your car to the little diner close to set, you’ve been going there quite often, they have the best pancakes and that’s exactly what you need right now. Timmy is already there sitting at a booth, waving at you happily. Aside from Maya, he is the other person you’ve been quite enjoying spending time with on set, he is a genuine guy and helped you a lot professionally which was a huge boost along this rocky way.

All through lunch you notice that he’s been checking his phone a lot, but you don’t think much of it, he is a busy guy, that you’ve learned already. It’s nice to have some time away from set and you’re thankful that Maya and Timmy are trying their best to make you forget about Levi and that eventually you have to head back.

The three of you return to set about an hour later. When the both of them stick to your side and they keep asking if you are going back to your trailer, you start to suspect something.

“You guys alright?” you ask with a chuckle. “Where else would I go? I still have thirty minutes from my break.”

“Just making sure,” Timmy shrugs. “We’ll walk you there!”

“Yeah! Let us walk to your trailer!” Maya nods in agreement and you give them a glare.

“You guys are weird,” you mumble under your breath.

As the three of you reach your trailer you notice how excited they are acting and you are confused about what’s really happening, but it’s just until you finally throw the door of your trailer open and gasp at the person waiting inside.

“Hello, Angel,” Harry smirks at you, leaning against the wall as you completely freeze.

“Angel! Oh my God!” you hear Maya squeak behind you, but you can’t pay much attention to her or Timmy, because you are busy throwing yourself into Harry’s arm, who envelopes you into his embrace, lifting you up from the ground.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe out, face buried in the crook of his neck.

“Should I not be here?” he jokes chuckling, his hands running up and down your back.

“Well, you are not supposed to, but I’m glad you are!” you chuckle and pulling back you kiss his lips, not able to hold yourself back.

“Thank your costars,” he mumbles nodding towards the door where Maya and Timmy are standing, grinning widely and proud of themselves.

“You guys did this,” you breathe out.

“Well, it was Maya’s idea, and then I was the one to message Harry,” Timmy admits, hiding his hands in his pockets. “Wanted to surprise you.”

“You surely succeeded,” you chuckle and turning back to Harry you hug him again, holding him tight as if he could vanish any moment.

“Alright, we’ll leave you two alone,” Maya chuckles before shutting the door and giving you some privacy.

“So how long are you staying?” you ask, arms circled around his neck.

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time. I need to fly out late tomorrow.”

“You came here for less than 48 hours?” you gasp in disbelief. He has been on the road for weeks now, all the traveling has been hard on him, that you know, yet he still went into the trouble of flying here for such a short time just to be with you.

“If Timothée didn’t reach out I would have still tried to mess around with my schedule to come here. I know how hard it has been for you here, I wanted to help you.”

“Stop or you’ll make me cry,” you chuckle, leaning in for another kiss.

You spend the rest of your break cuddled up on your tiny sofa in your trailer, talking but mostly kissing, because you’ve been missing Harry’s kisses the most probably. When it’s time to head back to set, you need everything in you not to lock the door and just never leave, but your work is calling.

Walking towards set you find yourself lacing your fingers together with Harry’s, to which he smirks at you in satisfaction. You couldn’t give less shit about that people will think the rumors are true, let them! All you want is to be as close to Harry as possible.

As everyone is slowly gathering back, you lounge around the buffet tables with Harry and Timothée, just genuinely having a good time, right until Levi walks in and he freezes upon seeing you with Harry.

At first you are convinced he’s going to come up to you, but luckily, he chooses to keep his distance this time, saving you some stress about what would go down if the two of them were to talk. Harry has definitely noticed his presence as well, but he doesn’t say a word, just holds your hand tight, kissing your knuckles.

Harry sticks around the whole afternoon, watching you film scene after scene and the excitement in his eyes is priceless. He takes every opportunity to praise your work and tell you how amazing you are doing and it means the world to you since it’s the first time Harry is seeing you working.

Through the afternoon, you can feel Levi’s burning glare on you, but you try your best to ignore it. You can tell he doesn’t like having Harry around but you haven’t figured out if it’s because he is jealous of you and him or because now Harry has all the attention he usually has. Either way, he is a petty fucker and you are enjoying pissing him off for once.

When filming finally finishes at six you are one of the first ones to head out, eager to finally be alone with Harry in your hotel room and not be disturbed for the night.

“I would say to pick up something to eat on our way, but maybe we should just order room service, how does that sound?” he asks as the two of you are walking back to your trailer.

“Room service is gonna be perfect,” you smile up at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Y/N!”

The voice calling out your name makes you growl in annoyance. The situation is all too familiar, Levi stopping you on your way back to your trailer with the pure intention of ruin your mood.

Oh for fuck’s sake,” you mumble under your breath before turning around. “What?” you snap back at him, clearly annoyed that he is here again.

“Hey, just… thought I would introduce myself to your friend over here,” he smiles as if it was the most natural thing, but you and Harry stand there, completely confused about how he can act so casual about him meeting Harry.

“I’m sorry, you what?” you question.

“Just wanted to meet Harry,” he tells again. “I’m Levi, nice to meet you,” he nods smiling, holding out his hand and you can’t hold your laughter back. Luckily, Harry is quick to react the best possible way.

“Are you really just gonna pretend like I didn’t hear you call Y/N a bitch the other day?” he asks, voice stern and surprisingly calm, however his hold on your hand is a little tighter now.

Seemingly, Levi is taken aback and you can tell he was convinced Harry wouldn’t bring it up straight to his face, but he did. He definitely just did and you are so happy about that.

“I’m, uhh—I don’t think you have any business in that, Harry,” he chuckles nervously, still trying to somehow dominate in the situation, but he is failing miserably.

“Oh, but I think I do. If you think you can just go around and call women bitches, you are in the wrong and if you ever have just one bad word for Y/N again, I’ll definitely won’t be this calm.”

The cherry on the top is the warm smile on Harry’s lips and your mouth hangs open at how bad he just burnt Levi. If you were alone now, you’d definitely jump his bones right away.

Watching Levi you see the exact moment when he drops the act and before he even opens his nasty mouth, you already know you’ll get another taste of his real self.

“What, you fuck her once and think she is the Queen of England who has to be treated with special care?” he scoffs and your stomach drops. Here he goes with the insults, buckle up!

“Excuse you?” Harry snaps back, clearly losing his patience with him.

“She is not that big of a deal, Styles. Might be a good fuck, but she is a fucking bitch in reality and you’ll see that soon.”

“I think it was just you who made her act that way and that’s entirely your fault, m’ friend. Anyone would be that way if they had to deal with you.”

“You know what? You two deserve each other, two low-life, attention seeker celebs, I just don’t get what people like so much about you. Especially about you,” he adds, eyes snapping to you. Your anger is boiling, he is dancing on your very last nerve and you have no idea how long you can last.

Harry then turns to you, a calm expression on his face, but his eyes tell you otherwise as he simply takes his rings off and places them into your palm, confusing you about what he is really doing.

“I’m sorry in advance, Angel,” he mumbles before taking a step towards Levi and with a simple but graceful move, he punches your scumbag ex.

You gasp as you hear Levi’s groan, his hands flying to his face while Harry shakes his fist off with a heavy sigh.

“Oh fuck, this feels better with a glove on,” Harry breathes out, taking a step back.

“You fucker!” Levi spats as he straightens up. He moves his hand from his face, checking it to see if he is bleeding, but it’s just some redness on his cheek.

“Don’t freak out, princess. You’ll just have to sit some more in the makeup. But Swear to God if you ever speak about her that way,” Harry warns him pointing at him, “You won’t be able to fix it with some powder.”

And with that, Harry grabs your hand and pulls you into the trailer, leaving a shocked and raged out Levi outside. As soon as it’s just the two of you, Harry changes from the confident, protective man to a frightened little puppy as he looks at you.

“I’m so sorry, but I just couldn’t take it any longer. The way he was talking about you and I—“

He doesn’t get to finish because our lips shut him up with the most heated and passionate kiss you two have ever shared. It’s hard and messy, your fingers thread through his hair as he grabs your waist forcefully, yanking you against her tightly.

“That was literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you pant against his lips.

“Yeah? So you’re not mad?”

“I’m only mad because you got to punch him before me,” you chuckle making him laugh as well.

“God, I have no idea how you could put up with him this long,” he breathes out, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m convinced that my nerves are made out of steel,” you joke pecking his lips two more times.

“I don’t even see how you could be in a relationship with him in the first place,” he huffs.

“I was younger and dumber. Don’t worry, learned my lesson,” you laugh, cupping his cheek in the palm of your hand, running your thumb along the soft skin under his eye.

“If I’m being honest, there’s one more thing that’s upsetting me about him.”

“And what is that?”

“Please don’t get mad at me though, okay?” he chuckles softly.

“Just tell me!”

“I’m mad… because he is able to say that he has been in a relationship with you and I’m not. It’s pissing me off, properly,” he admits and your heart skips a beat. “I know you said you don’t want anything official, but I just want to call you mine and—“

You cut him off for the second time now as you kiss him again, grinning against his lips. If he didn’t bring this up now, you would have for sure before he left, because there was no way you would have been able to say goodbye to him again without having all strings tied.

“Just to be sure, was this your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?” you smirk, your hands holding onto the base of his neck.

“Kind of? Yeah,” he chuckles softly.

“Alright, cool. Now let’s go back to my hotel room, boyfriend.”

You watch as his eyes light up and leaning down he kisses you again.

“Just so we are on the same page, was this your way of saying yes?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you nod, using his own words.

“Great. Okay, let’s go, girlfriend.”

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hangezoeenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Papa

Part 2 Part 3

let me know if you wanna be tagged please. this will be a series

fem!daughter!reader

word count: 1,855

person: c!schlatt, c!quackity, c!karl, c!sapnap

warnings: parents, cursing, yelling, orphans, cigars and alcohol mention (btw these are the warnings for now)

synopsis: you were loved, you were cherished, then someone left, and other people replaced that person, and you didn't like that.

Your biological parents threw you out of their home because they couldn't care for you. You were at least at the brink of 2 years old when this happened. They put you in a little stroller and took you to an orphanage. "Miss Jessica's Home For Orphans", it was a stupid place, but the place got you fed, and clothed.

On some fortunate day, you were going to get adopted. Quackity his name was. He came in, and asked for kids 2-6. "Those ages are easy to maintain", he thought in his head. He was contemplating whether or not to get a child of his own. He was lonely, no one to love, no one to care for. So Miss Jessica called everyone 2-6 years old to come.

With help from a older person, everyone 2-6 came downstairs. Quackity looked at everyone, and wondered which child he would bring home. Then he looked at you. you looked so adorable, so cute. He asked you, "Hey kid, what's your name." "I'm Y/n, how are you." you smiled at him with barely any teeth. He pulled you gently off to the side, "Hey kiddo, do you want to come with me to my house?" "Yes Mr." you answer.

You were glad to go to Quackity's house, you never had any love from anyone.

(Spongebob theme) 8 years later

You were 10 years old, living happily with Quackity. 8 years ago, he came to the orphanage and picked you up, ever since, you were showered with love and care. But there was one thing, you never called Quackity dad. You would just call him Alex or Quackity.

“Hey Quackity, what’s for lunch?”

“Ummm, some pizza with wings, buffalo right?”

“Yeah.”

Quackity felt bad, you never and did call him by dad, or any parental name. “Hey kid, can i talk to you about something.”

You put down your water, “Yeah, what’s up?” “So lately I’ve noticing that you have been calling me by my name?”

“Are you uncomfortable with me using your name.” you asked. “No, no, but it’s kinda weird, since, yaknow, I adopted you, and I’m a parental figure in your life, so maybe if you would call me dad or another parental name that would be cool?”

“Ohh, the only reason I was calling you by your name because I thought you were uncomfy with me calling you dad?”

“Oh thank goodness, I thought I did something wrong.” he sighed out.

"Could I possibly call you papa, since you-" he cut you off by hugging you. He squeezed his arms around you really hard, 'YES, YES, ANYTHING."

So after that, you would call him papa or dad, and sometimes use his real name.

6 years later, you were 16. The election happened, the calling out of the votes, Coconut2020 coming in fourth, which was last, who was lead by Fundy and Nihachu, Schlatt2020 coming in third, lead by Jschlatt, Swag2020 coming in second, lead by Quackity who is your papa and Georgenotfound, and Pog2020 coming in first lead by Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot, and Tubbo. Also the sudden announcement of Schlatt2020 and Swag2020 polling votes, and the speech by Schlatt stating that Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit were no longer citizens of L'Manberg now turned Manberg.

You were surprised, you didn't know that your father with add his votes with Schlatt's. So immediately after Wilbur and Tommy got banned from Manberg, Quackity and Schlatt called you and Tubbo up to the stage. "HEY YOU TWO, COME UP HERE." Schlatt yelled at you both. You both were reluctant to go, Schlatt was scary, his ram-horned self.

"It's ok Y/n, you're ok." your father told you. You stiffly went up the stage with Tubbo. "Tubbo, I want you to be the Secretary of State, and Y/n, I want you to be the First Lady, since your dad is the Vice-President." Schlatt demanded you both to be.

You didn't really want to be in a position of power. You were happy with living with Quackity, in L'Manberg, with no place of authority over anyone.

"Are you sure Schlatt, I mean, I suck at authority." said Tubbo. "Yes, I'm sure, I'm totally sure."

You were doing some paperwork for Schlatt when Tubbo came into your office, "Y/n, Schlatt and Quackity want you in their office."

"Ok, I need to finish this paperwork for Punz, he needs-"

"They said it's urgent."

"Fineee." you got up from your chair, "Thanks Tubbo, by the way, can you finish the paperwork, if you aren't busy."

"Yeah sure Y/n, just hurry up, they are really acting crazy in there." he jokingly stated. "Trust me, they're doing nothing."

You went out of your office, and walked all the way to Schlatt's. There, you found Quackity and Schlatt sitting together, talking about some random presidental shit. "Hey, what you guys needed me for?" you asked. You were desperate to go back to your office, still not used to this place. "We need to tell you something." they synchronized.

"Okkk, so what?"

"Umm, well Y/n, meet your new dad." you gaped at Quackity, then Schlatt repeatedly.

"NOPE."

"NEVER."

"WHY HIM."

"HE SUCKS ASS."

"HE SMELLS LIKE CIGARS AND ALCOHOL, WHY WOULD YOU WANNA DATE SOMEONE WHO SMELLS LIKE THAT."

You rambled on and on until Quackity covered your mouth to stop your obsequent talking, "Calm down mi quierda, first of all, it's not your choice, he makes me happy, I make him happy, and lastly, he smells great."

"YEAH I DO, YOU TELL HER BABE, I DON’T STINK." Schlatt yelled across the room.

“But why him, like there is multiple other people who is better than him.” you whined.

“Ok kid, I like, no love him, he loves me, why can’t you be happy with that.” Schlatt told you irritated.

“But-”

“No buts, just please be supporting of us, please mi amor?”

“Fine, doesn’t mean I like it.”

After that little argument you had with Schlatt and Quackity, you finished leftover paperwork so there wouldn’t be a pile of it when you came back to the office the next day.

You heard a knock on the door, and told them to come in. To your surprise, annoyingly, it was Schlatt, holding up your favorite hamburger from McDonalds. “Hey kid, what you doing?” he asked you.

You didn’t respond to him, trying to stay silent and finish the paperwork. “Your dad told me your favorite meal from McDonald’s, yaknow, as a present I guess.”

You still ignored him. "Kid, I know you don't like me, I wouldn't like me either if I found out my dad was dating-" you interrupted him, "It's not that, I want dad to be happy, it's YOU, you don't deserve his love. Do you understand Schlatt?"

He put his hand on your knee, "I know, I don't deserve him, I'm not trying to replace anyone in your life, I just want to make Quackity and possibly you happy."

You blankly looked at him, "Ok, that was a good statement, but if you hurt dad, I will make sure you live the rest of your life feeling like shit."

"We got a deal kid, you accept this partnership between me and your dad, and I'll won't break his heart, deal?"

You shook his hand, "Deal Schlatt."

"Hey kid, we're going out to a date, you want anything from outside?" Schlatt knocked on your door to your room. You were reading your favorite book when Schlatt interrupted your reading process, "Nah, have a good date."

You were kinda accepting Schaltt dating Quackity. You didn't like their PDA though. It was absolutely digusting, but it made your father happy. "Hey babe, what you doing in here?" Quackity appeared at the frame of your door. "Nothing, just talking to little ol' Y/n, isn't that right?"

"Yes, don't call me that though." "Ok then, you ready babe?" asked Schlatt. "Yeah, Y/n, don't do anything stupid while me and Schlatt are gone." You rolled your eyes, "I'm not going to do anything stupid papa, just have a great night with Jcum." "HEY, DON'T CALL ME JCUM."

"Love you both." you got back into your book, not knowing that the both of them were shocked.

Those three little words got both of them gaping at you. You didn't like Schlatt from the beginning, and you were saying to him "love you"? "What did you just say mi amor?" "I said love you both." you didn't know that those words were significant to Schlatt.

He wanted your approval of dating Quackity, since you are his only daughter. "HOLY SHIT, YOU SAID LOVE YOU TO ME, TO ME." Schlatt leaped with joy. "Don't take it too serious Jschlatt, you kinda warmed up to me these past weeks." you smirked.

He walked to your bed, and hugged you with all his might.

"Schlatt."

"What are you doing?"

"You are squeezing me too tight."

"I can't breath right now, let go of me."

You squeezed out, he was crushing all the oxygen out of your body, "Sorry, Y/n." he shyly spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. "Schlatt, we have had a lot of arguments, I didn't like you, still kinda don't right now, but you are actually a good person, and I actually, not fakely, approve you to date my dad."

Schlatt ran out your room screaming repeatedly, "YES, LET'S GOOO."

Quackity was out doing some random things for Schlatt, while you were cooking Schlatt's favorite food. Since last week you declared that you were actually ok with their relationship, you actually got comfortable with Jschlatt being near you.

It was a teasing relationship, you guys making fun of each other when the other did something wrong. To kinda celebrate the event, you were making food. You heard the door open, and there Schlatt was in his presidential suit. "Hey Schlatt, what's up?" you questioned while mixing the pasta in the pot.

He took of his jacket, shoes, and tie, looking stressed, "Nothing kid, just stresed out" "About what?" "Tubbo needs a lot of items to get something for me, but I don't have them." he sighed. "What does he need?" "He needs stupid netherite, the only thing I don't have in hand." "I actually have some, I could give it to Tubbo." you stated. "Thanks kiddo." "No problem Schlatt."

"Anyways, food is going to be ready in an hour."

"Thanks, I'll be in my room."

"Ok dad." He stopped in his tracks, "What did you just say to me." "What do you mean?" "Y-you just called me dad." he stumbled on his words with unbelief lacing them.

You smiled over your shoulder, "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, who knows?" "You actually consider me to be your dad?"

"Well yeah, you're nice to me and papa, you take care of me, you love me, so why not?"

He hugged you from behind, "Thanks kiddo, I'll receive this announcemet with honor," he jokingly stated. "No problemo dad, just go take a shower, you stink." "NEVER." he wrapped his arms around you as much as he could.

(This is the end of this first part, this is my first time making a series, let me know what you think)

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