#i have needed two of my back teeth to be capped for two years now and it's gotten so bad i think i just need them extracted
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orcelito · 2 months ago
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Wonderful news, after a month of flossing almost every day, my gums are finally no longer bleeding every time I floss!! 😃
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strangerous · 5 months ago
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they should make teeth that don't suck
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yandere-daydreams · 20 days ago
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Screening: Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978).
Pairing: Yandere!Carlisle Cullen x Reader (Twilight).
Word Count: 2.1k.
TW: Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Medical Malpractice, Blood, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Social Isolation, Misuse of Prescription Drugs, and Generalized Twilight. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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It might’ve just been the isolation getting to you, but you were starting to think that your doctor wasn’t completely human.
Not that you’d ever say so out loud. At best, it was awful thing to think about a man who’d only ever been kind to you and, at worst, it proved yet another symptom to your ever-developing, ever-worsening illness had cropped up and would need further treatment to correct. You knew better than to say things that would make you seem more sick than you already were, but it was hard to stop yourself from lingering on the idea – especially considering you only had books, sleep, and his company to pass the endless time. Admittedly, it’d been a while since you’d seen another person, but you could’ve sworn he was paler than he should’ve been, to the point of bloodlessness. He never ate or drank around you, but sometimes when he spoke, the light would catch on his teeth in a way that made them look too sharp, too prominent. You might’ve been dreaming, but once, after you took your medicine but just before you fell asleep, you swore you saw him taking the cap off of the blood sample he’d taken a few minutes prior, like he planned to do something aside from—
You heard a door open and instantly, your paranoia was dismissed in favor of more interesting stimuli. In this case, that came in the form of your doctor, Carlisle Cullen, stepping into your bedroom, an inhumanly perfect smile already painted across his inhumanly perfect lips.
…maybe you should tell somebody about your little conspiracy. If only to be absolutely sure that you were really losing your mind.
“Good morning,” he said, and it occurred to you that you hadn’t thought to check the time, yet. Your life existed in three states: alone, asleep, and with Carlisle. Only that last one really mattered – the other two could easily be lumped into the same category helpfully labeled ‘waiting for Carlisle’s next visit’. “Have you been keeping yourself busy?��
“I’ve only been awake for a couple hours,” you explained, shrugging as he took his usual seat in the chair left next to your bed. He was always polite enough to ask about the boring details of your day, and you were always embarrassed enough to skirt around just how little you had the energy for. Most of the time, it was all you could do to pull yourself out of bed and yourself to eat before retreating back into your little safe haven. On a good day, you’d be able to go for a walk, maybe respond to a few of the calls you were constantly missing, but most days weren’t very good. “Reading, mostly. Thanks again for the recommendation.”
The book he’d lent you – a dry historical drama with characters as bland as water and a plot as boring as sin – sat open on your lap, but you’d only gotten through half a chapter before giving up. It was hard to believe Carlisle was only a few years older than you, sometimes. You couldn’t imagine how someone who seemed so young could have such awful taste.
Still, he looked pleased, his pleasantly aloof expression taking on a defined note of satisfaction. “It’s important to keep your mind occupied while your body’s recovering. You wouldn’t want to waste all of my hard work by letting yourself die of boredom, now, would you?”
“No, doctor.” It was stupid to try, but he’d set himself up for it. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself, your heart beating just a little faster as you grasped blindly for the impossible. “You know, there’s this friend of mine who keeps asking when she’ll be able to visit, and I thought it might help pass the time if—”  
“You’ll have to find a way to let her down.” Carlisle’s voice was smooth, calm. You did your best not to sulk, but still, he let out a labored sigh, only a touch too professional to roll his eyes. “It’s for the best. It’s good that you stay active, but you know what’ll happen if you overexert yourself, don’t you?”
Vaguely. It was hard to remember the details of your condition, and you weren’t in the mood for another lecture. “I do, doctor.”
“And you’re going to behave your check-up, aren’t you?”
“I am, doctor.”
“And that’s why you’re my favorite patient.” Your compliance was rewarded with a beaming smile, an appeased nod as he pulled his old-fashioned leather doctor’s bag into his lap. “We better make good on that promise before you change your mind, then.”
You didn’t protest. Honestly, you didn’t say much of anything. You never talked during your exam, preferring to let Carlisle go through the necessary motions with as little interference as possible. Instead, he filled the silence with mindless chatter about his children and how they were doing at the local public school, the hospital’s ongoings since you were unofficially discharged, and your favorite – Forks’ particularly colorful smalltown gossip, from the sheriff’s wayward daughter moving back into town to the spike in bear sightings on the local hiking paths. “It’ll be a busy week,” he mentioned, as he finished taking your blood pressure. “You might have some unexpected company, after all.”
At that, you perked up. You met nearly all of Carlisle’s assistants (medical students, you guessed, judging by their ages) by now, and even if you didn’t care for all of them, it was still nice to see someone other than him. Your least favorites were the dark haired twins – the wiry boy who always seemed to be biting back a smirk and the pixie-like girl who always acted like she knew something you didn’t – and you were particularly fond of the blonde girl… Rosemary, or maybe Rosaline. She was nice, compassionate, kind enough to keep you company even when Carlisle wasn’t in the room. More importantly, she brought interesting books – romance and horror, novels like Dracula and Carmilla and Interview with a Vampire, always handing over with a sweet smile and a hushed reminder not to let Carlisle know she was breaking his rules. Looking back on it, you probably shouldn’t have accepted anything she tried to give you. You would’ve hated for her to get in trouble just because she was trying to be nice.
Rather than voicing your overwhelming bias, you watched intently as he slipped the loose cuff off of your arm, tucking it back into his bag and removing something else, something long and silver and sharp. Immediately, your gaze shot back to your lap, your throat going dry in an instant. The next time you managed to spit something out, it was nearly too quiet to be audible. “…is there any chance we could, uh, I don’t know,” You paused, shrunk into yourself. “…skip the phlebotomy, this time?”
Carlisle’s answer was as swift as it was ruthless. An airy laugh, a jagged twist to this smile as he took up the needle properly and turned it over in his hand, looking for defects. It was already attached the glass syringe and, even worse, an empty vial; just a touch bigger than you remembered it being, the day before. “And take that kind of risk? How little do you think of me, (Y/n)?”
“It’s not you, it’s just—I already feel a little faint, and you take one every day, and—” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply. “I just don’t know if it’s really necessary. Considering how careful you are and everything.”
“You’re right, I am careful. Which is exactly why I have to do this each and every time I come to see you.” He sighed, shook his head – suddenly more of a patronizing, paternal figure than any kind of medical professional, let alone peer. “You understand, don’t you? Without regular testing, your condition may worsen, and if you get any sicker than you are now…” You stiffened as he trailed off, bracing yourself. You knew what came next, what always came next.
“You’ll have to go back to the hospital, angel.”
It was strange, how a voice as smooth and as beautiful as his could be so difficult to listen to.
You didn’t like Carlisle. You hated his condescending smile, his repetitive rambling, his terrible taste in books and his creepy little students. You hated how little he let you do, how he talked about your illness – always skirting around the details, never giving you enough information to know whether you were on the verge of dying or a few days away from making a full recovery. No, when you were honest with yourself, you didn’t like him. Hated him, even.
But you couldn’t go back to the hospital, with its blank white walls and sobbing patients and strange, mind-altering drugs that put your sleep and made you feel like someone was biting into your throat. It’d been a miracle when Carlisle first told you about his domestic services, when he offered to have you discharged in exchange for only the promise that you wouldn’t seek care that didn’t come from him. Arrangements were made, your rent and bills taken over by some nameless, faceless local charity, and for the first time in months, you got to go home. You could live with Carlisle and his once weekly, now daily check-ups. You could live with the fact that you didn’t remember the last time you’d gotten to make a decision for yourself.
And, if you had to, you could live with paying for your freedom in blood, too. As long as it meant you didn’t have to go back to that terrible place.
Once again, you didn’t say anything, but you didn’t resist as he sighed and ran a sterilizing pad over your forearm, the antibiotic strong enough to burn. You clenched your eyes shut, but that did nothing to block out the feeling of a thin elastic band being wrapped around the crook of your elbow, of his needle pushing through your skin and burrowing into the vein underneath it. There was a second of pressure, of knotted soreness, and then, the syringe was gone and you were left feeling just a little colder, just a little more empty than you had before.
Even after opening your eyes, you kept them trained on your lap. You easily could’ve spent the rest of his visit in silence, but metal clinked against glass as he rushed to cap his vial and suddenly, you needed to hear the sound of your own voice. “I think I might be getting paranoid,” you managed, with a breath of a laugh. “For a few minutes this morning, I was able to convince myself that you were… I don’t know, an alien studying humanity, or something.”
“If I was, I’m sure that I would still pick you as the best possible specimen for my examination.” It was hollow comfort, but you smiled anyway, nodding along. Your medication came next, in the form of a small, chalky white pill that you still struggled to swallow under Carlisle’s vigilant gaze. You managed to choke it down, though, and as always, the effects were instant; a sudden clearness, blankness, followed shortly by an exhaustion so thick and so heavy, you couldn’t remember what it’d ever felt like not to be tired. You tried to hold yourself up, but faltered – buckling under your own weight. Carlisle chuckled as he caught you, helping you lay down with a soft squeeze to your shoulder, a feather-light kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep, angel. It’s good for you.” And then, his grin still pressing into your scalp. “And try not to dream about vampires, this time.”
So he did know about Rosalie’s books. Pouting, you shrunk into yourself, letting him drag the comforter over your abruptly immobile body as your eyes eased shut, as he pulled away – a vial of your blood still warm in his hand. It would’ve been impossible to stop yourself from falling asleep, but you managed to stave off unconscious long enough to watch him remove the vial’s carefully applied seal, to unscrew the air-tight cap with the kind of tenderness you’d only seen him use while taking your temperature or petting his fingers through your hair after he thought you were already too far gone to remember. He did a lot of things when he thought you weren’t looking, didn’t he? You’d never really noticed that, before.
Through your eyelashes, you watched him bring the vial to his lips before everything went dark.
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love4pascal · 5 days ago
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I’ll Say, Will You Marry Me?
Joel Miller x F!reader.
A/n: Okay never did I think that after I posted my first fic that people would like it as much as you did. I honestly wrote the first part as a one shot and I had no intention on writing another part but I am so glad that you all have enjoyed it so much that you requested a part 2. SO HERE IT IS!
Word count: 3k+
Warnings: 18+, SMUT, fluff, pure bliss, and these two being stupidly In love.
|Part One Here| |Series Masterlist|
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August 23, 2008.
Joel grabbed the last box from the moving truck, walking up the hot pavement and entering the home.
Placing the last box in Joel’s bedroom; a part of you felt like this was a dream, you were dating your best friend and now you living with him?
It felt to good to be true. The most loving and caring man you were once just friends, who now you’ll kiss goodnight.
“Who’s up for some good ol’ hamburgers and hotdogs for dinner?” Joel asked both you and sarah.
“Fine by me, dad!” She yelled from the staircase, on her way to her bedroom.
Joel turning his focus on you now.
“I’ll help you.” On your way to the kitchen to grab the hamburgers and hotdogs.
Joel stood at the back door for a few seconds more, admiring the woman he loved, before he even knew he’d loved her.
And god was he ecstatic to know that he’d get to wake up with you next to him.
-
After eating dinner outside, you, Joel, and Sarah cleaned everything up.
When done with that, Sarah suggested that there should be a ‘Miller movie night’.
Cuddled up with Joel and Sarah under a plaid blanket, watching “Twilight”, which Joel asked manny questions about.
“Wait, so you’re telling me he’s how old?!” He asked Sarah.
“He’s 104.” She says, eyes remaining on the tv.
“Oh.. so he’s just going after a seventeen year old like thats perfectly okay?” He spoke looking at you and Sarah, seeing both of you hysterically laughing at him.
“What? Why are you guys laughing??” He says sitting up.
-
An hour into the movie, Sarah was passed out. You grabbed the remote off the table and pressed the red button, the room went black.
Joel moving the blanket off of Sarah before picking her up and carrying her to bed.
Folding the blanket and placing it in the basket next to the tv stand.
Walking up the stairs to Joel’s bedroom, putting on a Fleetwood Mac shirt you had stole from him and pulling on black pajama pants before finding joel in the ensuite bathroom.
Bare chest and gray pajama pants, brushing his teeth. Coming up behind him and resting your cheek on his back.
“What’s wrong baby?” Running his toothbrush under the facet water before putting the protective cap over the bristles and setting it in the holder.
“Nothing, I’ve just never been this happy.” Laying a kiss on his shoulder.
You catch his smile through the mirror before he’s turning and throwing you over his shoulder.
There’s hushed laughs released from both of you.
He sets you on the bed, leaning down to capture your soft lips in his.
Your legs find themselves around his waist as your hands grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.
“Can I take this off.?” He tugged at the bottom of your shirt.
“Yes.” Helping him take off your shirt, the shirt being tossed somewhere in the room.
He unclasps your bra.
He pressed a trail of hot, soft kisses to your neck, his mouth tracing over your skin and down as his mouth finds your nipple.
You moan softly as his lips meet your midriff, his tongue swirls around your skin, making you squirm in desire and need.
Joel briefly removes his lips from your midriff with a ‘pop’, a string of saliva had been left, but quickly broke when your back arched; urging for Joel to continue.
Joel’s warm hands wander down, inching closer to your heated core, you’re getting wetter by the second.
Your hands scamper around, finding solace in Joel’s hair whilst he spreads your folds through your panties. His finger slowly, rubbing up and down. You gasp at the contact.
He continues to rub circles onto your clit, sometimes back and forth — almost tauntingly.
“Honey…Please don’t tease me,” you muttered weakly, getting lost in the near pleasure he gives you.
The chuckle Joel lets out is dark, a contrast to the soft airy kisses he rested upon your plump lips.
“What’d I tell you about patience, darlin’?” Joel murmurs against your pouting lips, he kisses you again, but there’s more force behind it. Your teeth clatter against his as his fingers pick up their pace.
Joel groans as you tug on his brunette tufts of hair. Joel then inserts two lengthy digits into your hole, making you cry out. To who exactly? You’re not even sure. You can’t be, not when his beard scratches your face just right, and his fingers model a ‘come hither’ motion inside of you.
Joel nips your lips before lowering his head to your pussy. He wastes no time in absolutely devouring you. You lay your hands on his shoulders, almost trying to get him closer.
He’s licking and sucking everywhere, all you can do is mewl out to him, letting out several ‘fuck, Joel!’s and even a ‘it feels so good!’.
His nose bumps your clit as he replaces his fingers with his tongue. “H-holy shit Joel! Right there baby!” You exclaim, voice cracking due to the strain.
You tightly wrap your thighs around his head, nearly suffocating him; just the way he likes it. “Baby..Baby! I’m-I’m so…” Your voice gives out, reducing to nothing but a whimper. Joel can tell you’re close.
He then pops back up from your legs, beaming at you proudly as you’re spread out for him.
You whine due to the lack of contact, Joel bends a bit to kiss your shoulder.
“Awe,” he drags out, “Don’t worry, peaches. Y’know I’m gonna take care of ya.” His southern drawl makes you ache for him.
Joel’s hands push down his pants painfully slow, he’s toying with you on purpose, but you love every second.
His thumb hooks around his boxers, allowing him to remove his sweatpants alongside them in one go.
Seeing him completely bare takes away the cold you feel due to the slight chill of the room. He’s breathtaking, you don’t know how else to describe it.
“Yeah? You think so honey?” His grin is nothing short of a cheshire.
You gape at him, not realizing that you actually said that out loud, but before you can think about it too much, Joel’s sliding his pink tip against your folds.
Your chest is heaving, you’re antsy and Joel finds it delicious.
“Y’ready peach?”
“Always.” You reassure with a slight nod.
Then, Joel pushes his cock into you, you swear you can count every inch entering you.
He pulls out almost entirely, then slams back into you. A choked gasp leaves your throat while Joel starts to find his pace.
Your nails find their place on Joel’s back, scratching deeply in satisfaction.
“Y-Yeah..That’s it darlin’. Squeeze me just like that.” Joel manages to groan through his gritted teeth.
His hips slap against yours, and you both are chest-to-chest. He can feel your breasts bounce up and down against him due to the force, and it nearly makes his mouth water.
Joel reaches his hand up, pushing some stray hairs behind your ear, murmuring, “You’re s’pretty, baby.”
“Ha-ah. I’m cumming, Joel!” Your voice remains somewhat hushed, but you can’t help but get louder as you get closer and closer.
“C’mon, peach. Joel’s gotcha, go ahead ‘n give it t’me.” Joel moans at the feeling of you clenching oh so sweetly around him.
Your back arches off the bed, Joel’s arms wrap around your frame to hold you, as you find your release.
You continue to squeeze Joel’s cock as you come down from your high, and you feel him twitch inside of you, signaling to you that he’s close as well.
His head rests in the crook of your shoulder, making it more than easy to whisper to him, “Cum for me baby.”
You feel spurts of his warm seed shoot inside of you as Joel lets out an earth-shattering groan.
He lays on you for a few minutes, regaining his bearings, before flipping down onto the bed next to you.
“You’re incredible, y’know that?” Joel slurs, moving his head slightly so he can get a good look at you. You’re both disheveled and sweaty, chests rising then falling just as quickly.
“So I’ve heard.” You smirk at him cockily, making him chuckle and shake his head playfully.
“Mhm…Let’s get you cleaned up, peach.” He kisses you again then picks you up bridal style, you giggle and hold onto him tightly as he walks you to the bathroom.
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December 30, 2009.
“And you’re okay with this.?” Joel was at the edge of his seat fidgeting with the black ring box, it was important to ask Sarah for her permission about proposing to you.
Sarah was Joel’s first priority, he’d never want Sarah to be uncomfortable or unhappy in her own space.
“Dad, you know I love her like how I love you. I’m 100% okay with you asking her to marry you.” She grabs at her father’s hand.
“Plus It’d be nice to have another girl in this house.” She pokes her dad before giggling.
“I’m glad to hear that baby girl.” He pulls his chair closer to hers, engulfing his daughter into a tight embrace.
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June 22, 2010.
You and Joel had been dating for 2 years and you couldn’t be anymore happier than you are now.
Your nights in the Miller residence always consisted with either a movie night in the living room, or playing board games before bed.
Tonight consisted of a certain Miller taking you to a fancy restaurant. Joel had told you earlier that morning that Tommy had offered to watch Sarah so that you two could have a nice dinner by yourselves.
.. Without hearing about a classmate who throws pencils across the classroom and is rude to their teacher.
You had gotten home before Joel so you decided to start getting dressed, you wanted time to be able to do your hair and finalize your outfit without feeling rushed.
You and Joel had waited for a reservation at this restaurant for months and you two weren’t gonna be late either.
After picking out a white floral sundress and doing your hair and makeup, you head downstairs to hangout with Sarah as you wait on Joel and Tommy.
30 minutes later Joel was walking through the front door in a new pair of jeans and a white short-sleeve linen button up and a bouquet of flowers.
Followed by the young miller brother who was the babysitter of the night.
“Hey darlin’.” he greeted you with a small smile.
You stand up to meet him halfway, taking ahold of the bouquet.
“Joel these are beautiful!” He smiled, shrugging one shoulder of dismissal of your thanks.
“I knew you said something about these flowers not too long ago, saw a guy selling them near a site I was working at. Couldn’t help but think of you.” You press a soft kiss to his lips.
“I love you so much, Joel Miller.” You smile, before walking to the kitchen and looking for a vase.
Placing the flowers into the vase that now sat of the dining room table, walking back to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.
“You look beautiful.” He murmured to you, brushing his down your arm as he glanced at the dress you had on.
You’d picked it out for this occasion, the soft white material making you feel soft and beautiful.
“Thank you! You clean up nice too..” you giggled at your tease, giving him a soft kiss to the cheek before taking his hand into yours. You were eager to get to the restaurant; you’d been waiting to try this particular place for ages and finally you had got a reservation."
Before leaving the comfort of your home, you said goodbye to both Sarah and Tommy.
“Don’t do anything irresponsible.” You pointed at Tommy. “I know you’re 26 years old but still, I’d like to come home to the house in one piece.” Before pulling him into a hug.
“Sarah, please watch uncle Tommy.” Sarah laughs at your comment about her uncle.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll make sure he’s on his best behavior!” She giggled and pulled you into a small hug.
Walking over to Joel, who’s stood at the front door.
Sarah runs over to her dad before capturing him is a tight embrace.
“Bye dad, have fun!” She said as he moved her curls behind her ear.
“I will babygirl, be on your best behavior for uncle Tommy, okay? Patting her head.
“Okay dad!” He kissed her cheek and you and Joel walked out the house.
You walked to the passenger side of Joel truck, before Joel approached you, watching as he reached down to open the passenger door for you and held it open, standing back for you to get inside.
“Well thank you.” He grinned, smiling as you got in.
“No problem darlin'. ” softly closing the truck door, walking around the baby blue truck and hoping into the driver side.
The truck engine lightly roaring as Joel started the car and pulled out of the driveway. Soft music plays as you turn the corner and enter the main road.
-
The restaurant is elegant, with dim lighting that casts a romantic glow over the patrons. Soft jazz plays in the background, creating a soothing ambiance
“Name under the reservation.?” The young blonde asked Joel.
“Uh, Joel Miller.” He shoved his hands in his pocket, rocking back and forth on his heels. Which was a nervous tic for Joel that you’d picked up on over the years.
“If you want to follow me this way, I can take you straight to your table.” She grabbed two menus and a specials menu before walking you two outside.
“Ladies first.” He motioned in front of him.
“Such a gentleman Joel miller.” Smiling softly before quickly grabbing at his hand and pulling him behind you.
Sitting down at much fancier tables than the one you and Joel had in your dining room. Beautiful black and gold menus with intricate letters, placed neatly on the table beside the spoon, knife and forks wrapped in nice fabric.
"Can I get you guys something to start with? drinks? maybe an appetizer?"
"I'll have a glass of red wine." the young waitress quickly wrote your drink down on her note pad.
"ill have a glass of water.. oh and can I have a lemon on the side?" Joel anxiously tapping his fingers on fabric covers wood.
"yeah, of course. I'll be right out with your drinks!"
“I heard they have really good steak.” he quirked his eyebrow.
“You’re gonna turn into a steak.” laughing a little too loud for this kinda restaurant, not before looking around to see if anyone was looking at you like you had two heads.
The young waitress, Brooke, which you had read from her name tag, came back with the three drinks.
“Thank you.” the both of you said reaching for the drinks.
“Are you guys ready to order, or do you need more time to think?” it was almost telepathically telling Joel that you were ready to order if he was.
“Yeah, we’re ready to order.” both telling her what you’d want off the menu.
“I'll have the steak, medium rare, with broccoli and mash potatoes.” he says as he hands the menu to the waitress.
“I'll have grilled chicken with mushrooms, and broccoli and mashed potatoes, please.” following what Joel did, and handing her the menu.
“Alright. I’ll get those right out for you both.” Joel watches as the waitress leaves, his gaze returning back to the woman sitting in front of him.
“What are you looking at?” you tease.
“What, can’t a man take a moment to admire how beautiful his girlfriend and best friend looks?”
“Joel Miller, you're a very cheesy man.”
-
After placing the order for the food, conversation engulfed the both of you.
Twenty minutes flew by and food was finally on its way to your table.
The waitress placed the meals in front of you, and waved down another waitress to refill your wine glasses.
The both of you half way done your food, feeling too to finish what was left on your plates.
“Joel this was really nice, I’m really glad we got the chance to do this.”
“Well I'm glad you had a good time, my peach!” reaching for your hand from across the table.
“I got one more thing to show you tonight.” he grinned
“Oh yeah?” You watched as he flagged down the waitress for the check.
After Paying the check, you and Joel walked down what Texans called the ‘Texas boardwalk’, down to the sand to watch the sunset.
You two sat down on the soft but grainy sand, listening to the waves crash together, in blissful peace.
“I feel the happiest I’ve ever been.” Looking at the man beside you.
“That’s weird because.. I was just about to say the same thing.” His chocolate brown eyes are finally finding yours.
“Yeah, that’s so strange? It’s like we’re meant to be or something??” Letting a soft giggle out.
“I want to show you something.” Before even realizing what he said, he was standing up somewhat quickly (old man lol) and grabbing your hand to pull you up with him.
“Of course!” He was pulling you along, whatever it was he was bursting with excitement.
“Joel, baby slow down, whatever it is you want to show me will still be there in a few minutes.” You laugh at his eagerness.
“Sorry. Sorry, I’m just really excited to show you.” He slowed down a little bit and you were still kinda jogging.
“Okay we’re almost there but I need to blindfold you.?” He said nervously.
“Okay.?” Closing your eyes as the cold feeling of the blindfold covered your eyes.
Joel grabbed both of your hands to guide you to wherever he was taking you.
“Are you ready?” He asked, grabbing ahold of where he tied the blindfold.
“Yes?” He slowly pulled on the blindfold. The millions of candles were making it hard to focus on the big sign that said ‘will you marry me’.
There was Tommy and Sarah standing by the sign smiling all bright.
“You two!” You laughed pointing at them.
You walked closer, the word on the sign finally clicking.
“Are you being serious??” Shocked was the only emotion you had right now.
“Yes baby.” He smiled, getting down on one knee.
“Oh my.” Tears were forming, hands were shaking, your emotions were everywhere.
“Peach, ever since I’ve known you, you have always been the light to my darkness. You were there to help me with Sarah, you were there when I could barely keep the light on, you have been my rock for all of these years. Two years ago when we decided to take our relationship to the next level and start dating was one of the best days of my life. Not much changed, and I think that’s what amazes me everyday. So I’m asking, will you marry me, peach?” He said as he pulled the ring box out of his pocket, before opening the box and pulling out the ring.
“Yes, Joel miller I will marry you.” Tears are falling down your face as you hold your ring finger out, while he slides it on.
Not before he quickly gets up and picks you up, spinning around before pulling you into a kiss.
Joel slowly places you down as Sarah comes over and wraps her hands around both of you.
“I’m so happy for you guys!” She said tears softly falling down her cheeks.
“Thank you babygirl.” You said as you rubbed her back to comfort her.
Tommy walked over to embrace his older brother in celebration.
“Congrats brother, you're finally getting married!” He said, patting his big brother in the back.
“Thank you, I couldn't do it without you and Sarah helping me set this all up.” He smiled at his younger brother.
“Anytime.” Smiling at his brother. “Go back to your kid and your fiancée, I’m gonna load this stuff up in the truck.”
“Alright, holler if you need help!” Joel yelled towards Tommy.
-
After helping Tommy load the stuff in the back of his truck, the rest of the miller family headed home.
You, Joel and Sarah hooped into your pajamas and watch a new movie on the couch.
You cuddled up against Joel and Sarah cuddled up against you.
“Im so happy that I’m gonna be able to marry you.” You said in a hushed tone.
“Weird, I was just about to say the same thing.” He smiled.
And before you all knew it, the whole miller family was peaceful asleep on the couch.
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warnersister · 11 months ago
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“Best interest” - Thomas Shelby x Sister!Reader
Thomas Shelby x Sister!Reader, Arthur Shelby x Sister!Reader, (background) Isaiah Jesus x Reader
During an altercation between you and your older brother Thomas turns physical, you turn to your oldest sibling for help.
Request: from anon
“Hey I got a request for Tommy Shelby
So you and Tommy sister and u are 15 and u are living with Tommy and you and Tommy was having an argument and he slapped u and you walk out and Tommy was worried were u was as u didn’t come back for the night and turns out u was at Arthur and Arthur was shocked to see u at his door crying and u told him after and he rang Tommy up pissed off he has hit u
Hope that makes sense x”
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“Isaiah Jesus is bad news.” Tommy told you, cigarette dangling from his lips. “He’s Finn’s best mate!” You retort “plus he works for you!” “Exactly.” He barks in response, stubbing out the remainder of the tobacco onto his desk before rounding it to get to you. “While you live under my roof, under any Shelby roof; you will not date no blinder nor man, you shall stay here and out of trouble.” He told you, wagging a finger at you like you were some dog who refused to do a trick.
“You don’t tell me what to do, you’re not my father.” And before you could think about at a large pain came into the side of your face, followed by an incessant buzzing and potentially red hand mark. Your brother has slapped you. “You are a fifteen year old girl. I am the closest thing to a fucking paternal figure you have and you will not fucking go against me, yn.” You said nothing in response, eyes welling up with tears as you cradle the soreness of your face.
Silently, you grabbed your coat and spun quickly on your heals - pivoting to face the door, rather than Thomas and making a dash for it before your brother was able to stop you. The door slammed shut behind you but Tommy didn’t move - you’d done this before, ran out but returned twenty minutes later with a bit less anger and a bit more Dutch courage in your system.
But when ten minutes had past, twenty, sixty, two hours; Thomas started to worry. He grabbed his coat and his cap, leaving in a similar fashion to yourself - slamming the door behind him to try find you on the unsafe streets of Birmingham: an unpromised virgin Shelby with a target over her head was potentially the worst possible person to leave alone. And even if you were angry, at least you’d be safe in his protection. And for once in his cold little life Thomas started to regret his actions.
You, on the other hand, knocked onto your other brothers - eyes welled to the brim with salty teeth’s that stung the mark on your face. He was notice drink from the hiccup he make when opening the door, but he sobered up rather quickly when he saw the state you were in. “Yn? What’s happened sweetheart?” Arthur asked you. “He hit me, Arth” you sniffed, upset. “Who did? Isaiah? I’ll fucking kill him-” “Thomas.” Arthur stopped in his tracks. “You fucking what?”
“Thomas hit me. Slapped me round the cheek when he found out about Isaiah. Said I wouldn’t stop seeing him just because he told me too-” you explained as your brother embraced you tightly and brought you in fr the cold to be able to properly comfort you. “Let me look” you moved the hand from your face and there laid a vibrant red handprint of the brother who would die tonight if Arthur got his own way; but right now his baby sister was in need and she would always come first to him.
“Come on love, I’ll get you an ice pack.” He mumbled, sitting you on the sofa before heading to the kitchen to grab some forgotten peas from the freezer to heal your dampened mood. “I’ll always look after you, y’know that?” He asked, stroking your hair and kissing your forehead. You nodded up at him. “That’s why I came to you first, Arth” he smiled, glad you trusted him as thus.
When you’d eventually settled and drifted to sleep at this ungodly hour, Arthur made a rather cruel phone call - but not before making a more gentle one. “Isaiah can you come round to mine please… yeah, she just needs you…”
Thomas paced around his house, unable to find you and the police told him they’d do anything in their power to find the Peaky sister before dawn but it wasn’t good enough, he needed you alive and well three hours ago. Not by morning.
The phone ringing dragged him out of his frantic thoughts. “Speaking?” “What are you fucking playing at?” “Arthur?” “I said, what are you fucking playing at Thomas?” He spat again. “Arthur this isn’t the time-” “laying a fucking finger on our baby sister. I’ll rip your cruel fucking hands off and kill you with ‘em” the man on the other end was quiet for a moment. “Is she with you?” “and I’ll slap you twice as bastard hard as you hit her-” “Arthur is yn with you?” Silence. “Yes.” He let up. “Oh thank god, did she come straight away?” “Four hours ago” “oh fucking hell, I’ll be there in five-" he said, pulling his coat back on. “No need. I don’t want to see your ugly fucking mug until morning.” “But," “no fucking buts. My little sister is staying the night with me and that’s final. Not sending her back to someone who’s gonna hurt her” and the line went dead.
The door rattled. “I swear to god Thomas if that’s you-” Arthur seethed, opening the door. “-oh Isaiah, come in lad” he welcomed, letting the sixteen year old blinder into his home - face drained and pumped back up with concern. “Where is she?” “In the living room.”
Isaiah ran into find you on the settee, awake from the commotion. He kneeled in front of you, gently holding your face in his hands checking you over, thumb carefully ghosting over the shadow of a hand on your cheek as his eyes progressively filled with rage. “I’ll fucking kill him for touching you. I’ll cut his hands off and make him eat em from breakfast-” Isaiah began to promise before truly looking into your eyes and seeing the upset in him: to which he immediately relaxed, for you: spoke a bit gentler. “Are you alright?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper. You nod. “It’s alright, I’ve got you” he promised, taking your body into his chest and caressing your back with a free hand, allowing your distress to seep off into much-needed sleep.
He looked over his shoulder at the older man watching from the doorway, anger returning to his eyes. ‘I’ll fucking kill him’ Isaiah mouthed and Arthur nodded ‘tomorrow’ he lipped back.
In the morning, as soon as the sun reared its head over the horizon, Thomas was at his brother’s doorstep - cap in hands. Awaiting the wrath as the commotion approached the door. “You slimy bastard.” Arthur allowed him through the door, locking it behind him. “Is she here?” “Yeah. With the boyfriend who cares about her more than you think he does.” Thomas ran through the downstairs portion of the house, informing the living room - seeing you sleeping peacefully in the arms of the boy he’d forbade.
Isaiah looked up at him, calmly. “No offence Tommy, but if she wasn’t here right now I’d be chopping your filthy fucking hands off with a butter knife” he said, voice cold and monotone. But he wasn’t able to reply, seeing you wake from your slumber to your abuser in the room you didn’t want him.
“What is he doing here?” You spat, venom leaking from your words. “Yn let’s go home-” “no.” “No?” Arthur stepped forward between the two of you. “I dare you to try lay a finger on her again.” “Yn I’m so sorry. I was worried after you ran off, y’know.” Tommy said, trying to sound guilty - which he was, truly. “But I can see I was being unreasonable and perhaps Isaiah does treat you better than I thought he could. I was only looking out for my baby sister.” He said. “I’ll never touch you again Yn. I’m sorry.” He opened his arms and the two other men looked at you, allowing to make your own choice here.
Slowly but surely, you inched towards Thomas who embraced you in a bone-crushing hug, kissing the top of your head as though it’s the first time he’d seen you in years. But in the embrace, he looked up at Isaiah and pointed a threatening finger at him. “But you ever hurt her and I’ll hold you down while she cuts your fucking balls off.”
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toomuchracket · 4 months ago
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summer wine (dad!matty x reader smut)
the penultimate tmr summer75 fic. first date night since baba 1. fluffy as hell but also sexy. enjoy <3
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“will you get a bloody move on? you're going to be late!”
“relax, mum,” you shout back, capping your lipstick and stomping out of the bathroom. as you catch sight of her at the bottom of the stairs, you glare at her. “stop trying to kick me out of my own house. and stop swearing in front of your granddaughter!”
you can hear matty laugh from the living room, while your mum rolls her eyes. “it's hardly a swear word, bloody. ‘specially not where we're all from.”
“well, yeah, but we're not in manchester right now, are we?”
“could be,” she makes a pouty face, the same one you inherited and the same one dylan will likely get too. “if the two of you would move back home, let me and denise see our granddaughter more often.”
matty wanders through, dylan babbling away in his arms. he nudges your mum. “that listing you sent the other day was nice.”
“wasn't it? can just see dyl running about in that garden.”
“yeah, me too. and the-”
“hang on a minute,” you hold your index finger up, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation with the other hand. “you've been discussing houses for sale in manchester? without me?”
they nod, and you grit your teeth at their lack of shame, before nodding at your mum. “always knew you loved him more than me.”
she rolls her eyes again, while your husband bites back a smile. “oh, here we go again, this old chestnut…”
“no, it's true,” you sigh, overexaggerated, scooping your baby from matty's arms and cuddling her into you (and doing your best not to drop the bit and smile at her happy coos). “you're the only one who cares about me, dyl.”
matty wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek and looking down at the baby. “mummy's telling fibs, munchkin, we all care about her very much. and i think she looks beautiful.”
“sap,” you lean round to peck him. “thank you, though. you've scrubbed up well tonight too.”
“yeah, you both look good,” your mum smiles. “the three of you, i should say - dyl's showing you up, though, if i'm honest.”
you and matty laugh, and you lift your daughter to kiss all over her little face; the little happy noises she lets out are possibly the best thing you've ever heard. “my perfect girl. you're gonna have so much fun with gran tonight, munchkin!” hugging her properly, you do your best to keep a lid on the sudden melancholy you feel about leaving her. “be back first thing tomorrow, i promise.”
“and if you need us tonight, gran'll tell us, and we'll come home,” matty adds, taking the baby to give her his own cuddle - he holds her up so their faces are level, and speaks again. “and i love you, but please try not to do that. mummy's done so much for you and i lately, and she deserves a night off, yeah?” he kisses her little nose, smiling at the way she scrunches it up the same way you do. “see you in the morning, my darling.”
your mum beams, taking dylan from matty and kissing his cheek, then yours. “oh, we’ll be fine. now go! have a good night!”
you stroke your baby's head a final time, and squeeze your mum's hand before grabbing matty's. “love you both. bye!”
matty follows suit, bidding your family goodbye before following you out to the car; he speeds ahead to open the passenger door for you, and you giggle. “how chivalrous of you.”
“duh,” he gets into the driver's seat, leaning over to kiss you sweetly before starting the car. “first date night as mum and dad. s'a big deal, babe - tonight is going to be perfect.”
he isn't wrong, actually. and you know you and matty could have a good time together in any circumstances, but tonight's are particularly sweet - dinner in the italian small plates place you've loved since it opened a few years ago, then a drive to get some ice cream and drop the car near where you're staying tonight, and finally a wander in the evening sunshine to a new wine bar a girl at work recommended. there aren't any tables left indoors when you arrive, so you go al fresco; it's dreamy, you think, sitting in the fresh air with the love of your life, with a bottle of red and a cigarette or two each, the setting sun warming your skin and glinting off the wedding rings on you and matty's hands. 
he kisses yours, looking - as he always has, really - adoringly at you with the big brown eyes you're actually disappointed your daughter didn't inherit. “have i already told you that you're beautiful?”
“seven times and counting,” your cheeks burn, and you busy yourself with intertwining his and your fingers as a distraction. “you've got baby brain, my love.”
“no, i think you're just that beautiful that i have to keep saying it,” matty smiles. “y'having a good night?”
“the best. though it feels a bit weird without dyl, to be honest.”
“yeah,” he laughs. “i keep forgetting that it's just you and i tonight.”
you stare at him, blinking. his brow furrows. “what?”
“just waiting for you to finish the lyric, s'all.”
“oh, for fuck's sake,” your husband shakes his head, doing his best to keep the smile from his face while he takes a drink of wine. “you little groupie, clocking the lyric before i did.”
you shrug, taking a sip from your own glass. “i'm extra-sensitive to that song, babe. i remember when you wrote it, one of the nights you stayed at uni with me,” the memory makes you smile. “we were drinking red wine that night, too. wasn't as nice as this one, though.”
matty smiles, one of those slow, sweet smiles that end up taking over his whole face; your heart flutters when he kisses your hand again. “used to dream about nights like this back in those days, you know? me, you, married, on a date. dreamt up dyl back then too and all.”
“you had the baby dream?”
“yeah,” his cheeks go pink. god, you love him. “happened more often when we moved into the flat, but the first time i had it was in your room at uni. and it was dylan i dreamed of, exactly as she was born - hair like mine, face like yours, asleep in my arms while you made a cuppa and spoke to me,” matty looks up at you, eyes slightly teary. “it was always going to be you, darling. you, and me, and her. m'sorry that it took so long for us to end up there - here, i should say.”
“oh, matty,” you kiss his hand, smiling when he caresses your cheek. “i'm not sorry it took the time it did, you know - we got to a good place within ourselves and our relationship before we had our girl, and she's going to grow up in the best possible circumstances because we did, yeah? besides,” you wink. “i always knew you'd end up putting a ring on my finger. i wasn't worried about the timings.”
your husband laughs, wiping his eyes before leaning in to kiss you softly; as always, you get butterflies when he does. “i love you.”
“i love you,” you down your glass of wine as classily as you can, and smile at him. “and i would really love to show you how much, if you'd be up for that.”
“always, darling.”
***
“jesus christ, it's like stepping back in time,” you giggle deliriously as you cross the threshold to the old flat, tapping the guitar head key-holder before turning back to matty. “except now you've got grey hair, and i've got stretchmarks.”
he grins, pulling you close. “i love your stretchmarks.”
“and i find the grey really, really sexy,” you weave your hands into his hair, pressing your lips against his and moaning when his hands squeeze your arse. matty takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue tracing your lips before licking into your mouth, sending heat flooding through your veins and into your underwear - after a minute, you pull back to breathe, beaming at the familiar manic glint of arousal in his eyes. “fuck, i've missed this… take me to bed, please?”
“whatever my sweet girl wants,” matty wraps your legs around his waist and kisses you again, and you're briefly aware of being carried somewhere before you're gently plopped on a bed. he smiles at you, and looks around your old bedroom. “wasn't even sure where we were gonna end up, to be honest, darling - that was muscle memory, that.”
you look around the room, noting the absence of dust on the surfaces and the fresh smell of the bedding before smirking at your husband. “nah, you planned this, i know it.”
his jaw falls open. “i did not.”
“no?” you tilt your head. “you mean you didn't take the opportunity to make my old bedroom all neat for us to shag in, as soon as i suggested we go to a bar in east for date night?”
he smirks. “must be coincidence.”
“hmm,” so quickly matty can't react, you reach into the bedside drawer, laughing when you pull out exactly what you expected to find - a fresh box of condoms. “oh, you sappy little git, matthew.”
“i-” matty's face is beet red; it falls into an expression of slight defeat when you wave the box at him. “alright, fine, i admit it - i might've come in here a couple of days ago to set up.”
you hum, lying back down on the pillows and busying yourself with pulling strings of condoms from the box. matty lurks sheepishly at the bottom of the bed; when he clears his throat, you look up at him, and grin. “are you waiting for me to say the line? you are, aren't you?”
“no,” comes the response, in a voice that suggests otherwise.
“you're so weird, baby,” you sigh, before smiling knowingly at him. “but i think you should get over here, healy - i want to kiss you,” you giggle when he jumps onto the bed, kissing his cheek and whispering in his ear. “and fuck you. well… you to fuck me, but you know what i mean.”
“‘course i do,” his lips find your neck, and you sigh in bliss. “needy girl.”
bliss ruined. you glare at him. “you prepped all those condoms, and i'm the needy one?”
“i'm just keeping up with demand, sweetheart,” matty raises his hands in mock surrender, and then brings them to your tits. “i know what my wife needs.”
fuck. 
you beam, breathing heavily as you murmur. “say it again.”
he hums, kissing slowly up your neck to whisper in your ear. “i know what my wife needs.”
the heat in your body becomes too much to bear; your hands fly to the buttons of matty's shirt, deftly undoing them as you lean blindly up to kiss him. he reciprocates eagerly, taking your top lip between his teeth while his hands busy themselves with dragging your dress down by the straps. you work quickly, efficiently, the years of practice put in in this very room ensuring you both end up in your underwear in seconds flat, lips connected and only breaking apart when breathing becomes an absolute necessity. 
it's at this moment that matty catches sight of your new lingerie for the first time, lust-black eyes widening (and clothed dick hardening) as he drinks in your body, wrapped in a babydoll made of dark red mesh. his hands slide softly up your thighs, which part to give him a look at the matching panties; the moan he lets out is enough to soak them. “oh, baby.”
“you like it?” suddenly shy, goosebumps fluttering across your skin at the realisation that this is the first time you've been quite so exposed since having the baby, your voice goes small. “i look… alright?”
it's testament to how well matty knows you that he immediately leans forward to stroke your face reassuringly, resting his forehead against yours so tenderly you could cry. “you look perfect, my darling - so, so beautiful.”
you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. “really?”
“yes, angel,” the kiss that follows his words is sweet, but still passionate enough to dispel all worry from your mind. “d'you wanna keep your dress thing on? we'll do whatever's most comfortable.”
“no, take it off, please - just lift it, babe,” you smile as matty fumbles with the lingerie, giggling along with him as he successfully manages to pull it over your head. “hi.”
“hi,” comes the breathy reply, followed by a kiss between your boobs. when you let out a little moan, matty presses kisses all over your chest, trailing them up across your neck to your lips. “have i told you how fucking sexy i think you are?”
you giggle. “high praise, that, coming from the world's hottest dad.”
“fuck yeah,” he sits back on his heels, eyes trailing up and down your body, mouth parting slightly in the way it always does when he's really, really turned on. “christ, you've no idea how much i want you.”
“yeah, i do,” you lightly drag your nails down your husband's chest and stomach, hooking them into the waistband of his boxers. “s'been too long, baby. need you inside me again.”
“shit. take your panties off for me, darling… yeah, just like that,” matty's eyes don't leave your soaked cunt at all as he takes his own underwear off; your gaze fixates on his dick, excitement fizzing as you watch him reach for a condom and roll it on, smile splitting your face as he settles himself above you. “fuck, i'm a little bit nervous.”
“why, darling?” you take his face in your hands, thumbs gently rubbing his cheekbones. “s'just me, yeah? me and you in our bed. done it a thousand times before.”
matty smirks. there he is. “think we can do another thousand tonight?”
you smirk to match. “we can try.”
“oh, i love you,” he kisses you again, slowly running his dick along your core. “you ready, darling?”
“yeah. love you,” you smile into the kiss, moaning softly in harmony with matty as he slowly slides home. “fuck, you feel good.”
“not as good as you,” comes the mumbled reply, matty's eyes rolling back into his head as he tentatively begins thrusting into you. “missed this.”
you giggle breathily, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer. “s'only been a couple of months, baby, we've gone longer without fucking before.”
“yeah, but - oh, fuck, do that again,” matty gasps into your neck as you dig your nails into his back, kissing across your face so he can smile at you, and blush as you wink. “you're so fucking hot.”
you roll your eyes. “shut up.”
“no, i'm serious,” he sits back on his heels, gently lifting your legs onto his shoulders so he can see you a bit better while he fucks you; you're not complaining about the new angle, either. “i have literally never found you sexier than you are right now. ever,” he kisses your calf muscle. “which is why not being allowed to fuck you until now has fucking killed me.”
there isn't even a slither of insincerity in his voice, or on that gorgeous face of his. yours burns, still unused to your husband's compliments after all this time, and your hands gently skim the outline of your chest and hips. “you've been looking delicious, lately, too.”
matty laughs. “delicious?”
“yeah,” you bite the tip of your index finger, sighing happily at the feeling of being fucked slowly. “practically on my knees every time i see you hold the baby, you know. and especially when you do it shirtless,” you let out a low whistle. “not to be crude, but… yeah, i'd take it anywhere you wanted.”
he throws his head back, cackling. “well, darling, you're doing just that,” he leans forward to kiss you, stretching your legs in the most gorgeous way. “d'you wanna try taking it a bit harder? up to you.”
“yeah,” you breathe into him. “fuck me, matty. please.”
“since you asked so nicely,” he pecks your lips, before slamming into you with a groan and repeating the motion, over and over and over. “jesus christ, baby.”
you can't speak, a mixture of pleasure haze and just sheer love for matty clouding your brain and closing your throat to everything but little moans and whines, those noises he loves so much; it's obvious from the way he smiles and speeds up when he hears them how much he loves them, and obvious from the way he kisses and the way his eyes sparkle how much he loves you. they've sparkled for you like that for the better part of fifteen years, and a sudden wave of some inexplicable emotion washes over you when you think about how long you and matty have loved each other, and now you've ended up here.
you don't realise you're crying until he slows down, face concerned, and wipes the tears from your lashline with his thumbs. “what is it, my darling?” his voice is soft, soothing, exactly the same as it is when he talks to your baby girl. “everything alright?”
nuzzling into his hand, you nod, sniffling. “i just really, really love you, matty.”
he smiles, eyes crinkling and filling up to match yours. “i love you. girl of my dreams, mother of my baby, love of my life.”
the two of you stay like that the rest of the night, matty fucking you slowly, deeply, tenderly, both of you trading sweet words and i love yous and kisses that feel like home. getting each other off isn't the priority anymore, dropped in favour of simply loving, but your orgasm is as intense as ever; maybe even more so, actually, limbs wrapping around matty and tears falling onto his skin as he gets you there and holds you through it with a “my girl, my beautiful, beautiful girl”, before burying his head in the crook of your neck as he spills into the condom with a whimper.
for the briefest of moments afterwards, there's silence in the room, the only sound your respective heavy breathing as you recover; it's broken, as always, by your husband, kissing your cheek before moving to pull out of you and pull off the condom. you giggle when he launches it with pinpoint accuracy into the bin in the corner of the room, moving to snuggle against his chest once he settles back onto the bed. “i think,” you begin, tracing the tattoo on his chest. “it's safe to say that you've still got it.”
he snorts. “d'you mean the sex, or my aim in chucking shit in that bin?”
“both,” you kiss over his heart, looking up at him adoringly. like you could look at him any other way. “that was really special, baby. thank you.”
he strokes your hair. “anything for you, my love,” his finger slides down your nose, booping the end, and he giggles when you scrunch your face up. “round two, in a minute? we still have all those condoms to get through.”
“in a minute, yeah,” you grin, climbing atop your husband and grinding down onto his lap. “but this time, i'm on top.”
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lethalchiralium · 1 year ago
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Window to the Abbey | Happiness Series
a/n: it’s been so long! i’m so excited for the next few chapters :) WE GET KÖNIG EVERYBODY IM SO EXCITED
warning: Children, Mellie is sick :(
summary: Winnie and Mellie are cautious of the two new operators in their house, Simon’s calling, and Mellie’s sick. To say you’re handling it with grace would be an understatement.
PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST
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By the time you had headed to bed, your kids were sound asleep. All of the people in your house were fed, but only Laswell would be staying up later than you. König and Roach were meant to be arriving past midnight, and as much as you wanted to stay up and greet them, your kids always run you down by the end of the day. You were running off of fumes by the time you had showered and brushed your teeth, the familiar motion of scrubbing them felt like a warming lullaby. As the swish, swish, swish of your toothbrush sounded in the bedroom, you searched Simon’s dresser for an old shirt to sleep in. It was sweet to see that he still kept his band t-shirts from when he was a young adult, even if he confessed to you that he didn’t much care for the music now. You plucked a worn one that you often found yourself sleeping in, the band name had been washed off after years of wear.
You returned to the bathroom, spitting out the toothpaste into the sink as your phone began to ring. You looked over to the tub where your phone was sitting on the ledge, seeing the caller ID. Simon.
“Everything right?”
“Right as rain.”
“Baby’s okay?”
You settled your hands on the sink before putting your toothbrush back into the cabinet. “Simon. The baby is fine. The girls are fine. I’m eating like I should, taking the vit-a-mins-“
“Vit-a-mins,” He mocked you, pitching his voice higher. “Don’t mock me. Laswell there?”
A laugh left your lips. “Yeah, she’s here. The girls warmed up very quickly since she brought at least a thousand dollars worth of presents.”
“I’m not going to ask.”
“How’re my boys?” You grabbed your hair comb, taking a piece of hair in one hand and starting to detangle it.
“Gaz and Soap are doing fine. Being annoying as usual. Cap lost one of his good cigars.”
“I’ll find him a new one. And how’s my husband?” You kept brushing your hair, exhaustion weaving its way through your muscles. It’s just two more weeks, we can do this.
“Tired. I want to be home with you.”
Your heart already felt bruised without him, him saying that felt like another hit. You gazed at yourself in the mirror, internally waving away the feeling that Simon would come through the doorway at that very moment. “I know. I’m so tired, this baby is already takin’ everything out of me.”
“Don’t be scared to ask König or Roach for help. John already drilled them about not saying no to you.”
Your heart swelled, a smile on your face now. What you did to deserve Simon and his team, you’d never know. “He didn’t have to do that, I’m an adult.” You then gave up on completely detangling your hair, just taking the brush through it enough before you put your brush down. There wasn’t anything you needed for the soldiers to do for you, other than keep your daughters safe in the walls of your home. Your fingers gripped onto the porcelain sink, fighting the sinking feeling of abandonment. Simon is coming back, you tell yourself. He would never leave you and your girls alone.
“Yeah, but you’re my wife. My pregnant wife.”
Your heart squeezed in your chest, happiness in your heart as you moved out of the bathroom but not before shutting off the light. You kept your phone close to your ear as you moved towards your bed. “Simon, I’m barely a month and a half along, I’m not a hormonal monster yet.”
“I still want you taken care of the way I want you to be.”
You moved into your bed, sitting up against the headboard. “You’re too good to me.” You pulled the blankets up to your stomach, the hand lingering on your belly before sliding over to Simon’s cold pillow beside yours. Your heart squeezed with a cold sensation that you didn’t dare place.
“I’m doin’ my best.”
“I miss you.”
A beat of silence then the sound of shuffling. “Miss you more. Can’t even sleep without you, jus’ keep tossin’ and turnin’.”
“I don’t even want to think about sleep.”
“You need to sleep regardless, I want you exactly how I left you, but with a bigger belly.”
You laughed a little, settling down onto your back. “I’m not gonna get big that fast, Simon. You’ll only be gone, what, two weeks?”
“Probably. I just… Don’t want to miss you growing my baby again.”
You tugged Simon’s pillow into your chest as you rolled onto your side, settling your cheek on the soft fabric. “You’ll be back in no time, I promise you’re not missing much.”
“Y/N?”
Goosebumps traveled up and down your spine, knowing he was being serious if he said your name. “Yeah?”
“Be safe for me, okay?”
“Always.” You answered, wanting to feel his heartbeat underneath your fingertips again. “Are you going to sleep?”
“I was gonna try.”
“Can you stay on the line ‘til I fall asleep?”
A deep and lighthearted chuckle sounded from your phone, but you didn’t feel embarrassed that you needed his comfort - you knew he loved you more than anything, he’d do anything for you. “Yeah, love. Jus’ close your eyes. I love you.”
A smile on your lips as you closed your eyes, letting the phone stay on his pillow, only a couple inches from your face.
“I love you too, Simon.”
There was just a small moment of his laughter before he spoke again. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be home before you know it.”
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“Well, this is new.”
Mellie’s face was buried into your neck, little tears in her eyes as she curled into your chest. You have an apologetic look to König, the tall Austrian only blinked back. “I promise she’s usually friendly, I don’t know what’s gotten into her.” The man looked genuinely distressed, as if he did something wrong. You felt worried as soon as you saw that look in his eye, but you were quick to reassure him. “I’m sure she’ll get over it, she doesn’t quite like the masks. Simon doesn’t wear one around the house so she’s not quite used to it yet.” You looked down to Mellie and placed your hand on her forehead, feeling her skin be warmer than usual - that was probably why she wasn’t acting right.
He cleared his throat. “I-I’m sorry.”
You waved your hand, softly bouncing on your feet as your baby then gripped your hairs at the nape of your neck. “Ow- It’s fine, König. You don’t have to take the mask off if you don’t want, she’ll be fine.” You turned away from him, walking back into the living room from the kitchen. Laswell was standing near the window that displayed the garden, Roach was sat on the floor playing fire trucks with Winnie. Breakfast had come and gone, Mellie had woken up late and had not taken a liking to Roach or König. The little one was still quietly crying into your neck as you moved across the room to Laswell.
She had been on the phone almost all morning, voice low as she kept her eye on all entrances. But now, no phone was held in her hand, only her gaze upon the garden was holding her attention.
“Kate?”
She looked over to shoulder and a small frown appeared on her face as she saw the scared girl on your arm. “Aww, what happened?”
You smirked a little, looking down to Mellie. “She’s not a fan of Uncle König or Uncle Roach’s masks.”
Laswell laughed a little and you looked back up to her. “Anyway, what’s up?”
“Are you sure that nothing’s gonna happen?” Your voice lowered, your free hand coming to help wrangle your baby hairs from Mellie’s grip. “Are we safe here?”
The woman’s smile fell before she took a look outside, then back to you. “No. Anything can happen, no matter how secure the place is. König and Roach being here is a precaution, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
You nodded before looking over your shoulder, seeing Winnie giggling as Roach crashed a toy car into the big building made of toy blocks. You turned back to Laswell. “Well, thank you for staying too. I was gonna ask if I could take Winnie out to the park later, maybe leave Mellie here ‘cause she feels like she’s running a fever.”
The woman pressed her lips together, looking to Roach and Winnie too before she looked back to you. “Roach and I will take her.”
You gave her a smile. “Thank you.” You moved back towards your couch, stepping around Winnie as she demolished Roach’s block house with her toy. Roach made a noise of surprise towards Winnie as you sat down, a small coo from Mellie drew your attention back to her. You looked down at her, hand instantly back on her forehead - she was very warm, that made you worried. Your eyes flickered upwards, seeing König standing in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes watching everyone in the room. “König?”
His back became ramrod straight as he answered, “Yes, ma’am?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s just Y/N. But in the very left top cabinet from the oven is the medicine cabinet, could you get me the baby Tylenol and the syringe beside it?”
The giant nodded, immediately disappearing into the kitchen as Kate softly laughed from the windowsill. You looked to her, she spoke with a laugh, “Your husband has them both terrified of you.”
Shaking your head, you sat forwards and rested a hand on Winnie’s head, patting it. Your daughter moved her head to look up at you with a smile before looking back at Roach. “He’s just cautious.”
“He is very intimidating.” König spoke from behind the couch, a large hand appeared in your vision with the things you asked for as you leaned back.
You grabbed them, not before saying, “Keep your hand there.” Mellie was still facing you, so you placed the medicine down in your lap before maneuvering her little baby hand to settle on top of König’s outstretched palm. You glanced up to the man before saying, “Simon holds her hand when I give her medicine.”
König made a noise of acknowledgment as you kept Mellie on your arm, moving your hands together so you could quickly draw the dose of Tylenol into the syringe. By the time Mellie raised her hand to look at who she was touching, you had squished her cheeks together so her mouth opened and squirted the medicine into the back of her throat. The little baby squawked and coughed, withdrawing her hand from König and rubbing her eye, softly crying.
You put down the syringe and pet her face, she only murmured at you before slamming her face back into your neck. “I’m sorry, honey, it’s alright.” You looked up to König, who was watching your daughter very curiously. “Thank you.”
He nodded in response.
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Mellie hated baths when she was sick. The sweet little girl was crying, upset as you gently poured the lukewarm water over her back. The rubber duck she had in her hand was curled into her chest, her little throat sounding rough since she had finally stopped screaming. It was at moments like this where you wished Simon was there with you - his gentle hand would settle on Mellie’s back, the baby would immediately begin to calm down. But Mellie didn’t want you to rub her back, touch her head, or even hold her; she was getting too hot, trying to tear off her clothes as she screeched for her Dada. He had been gone for less than two days and you felt like you were already overwhelmed.
Winnie was always easy as a baby and Mellie seemed that way too, at least until Simon had to leave. He was almost never gone since the night he had came home and found you in bed, his two month old daughter on your chest. The longest he would be gone was one night but he had been back in the morning, bright and early. She’s always had him, you understood it will be hard since she’s too little to understand why Simon was gone. You kissed her warm forehead, careful to miss the sweet smelling soap on her head.
Winnie had gone to the park with Roach and Kate only a couple of hours ago, Kate saying that she was going to run Simon’s usual errands. Shopping, some paperwork, pick up dinner. Now, the only ones left in the house was König, you, and Mellie - your daughter wanted nothing to do with the gentle giant. You found him oddly sweet, he was insanely awkward for a grown man but sometimes that’s just how it is. It took you a while to break Simon of that shell.
Your daughter coughed a little, pulling you from your thoughts as you kept cupping water to wash off the sudsy soap from her little body. “Sorry, honey. Mama’s tired today, isn’t she?”
Mellie’s deep brown eyes stared up at you, red with tears as she sniffled a soft, “Dada.”
You cupped the back of her head, gently threading your thumb over her baby curls. “He’ll be home soon, my girl. It’s just me for right now, okay?” Your baby pouted a little, tears welled in her eyes and you were ready for another thirty minutes of screaming - but it didn’t come. Only soft little whimpers from her, you could almost hear your heart shatter into a million pieces.
“Dada.” She murmured, her free hand coming to make a grabby hand towards you. You instantly placed your hand in front of hers, letting her grip onto your fingers.
You gave her a small smile. “We’re done, baby. You feel a little better? We’ll get some medicine on your chest ‘n we’ll take a nap.” Mellie coughed in response, you looked away for just a moment to grab her towel that had printed ducks on it - Winnie had picked it out at the shop specifically for her baby sister months ago. You turned back to Mellie, plucking her from the water and wrapping her up, letting her still very warm forehead to rest on your cheek. You kept her balanced in your grip as you leaned down, pulling out the drain plug before moving to leave the bathroom.
You pulled the door open, feeling a slight breeze through the house that wasn’t there before you took Mellie to the bath.
König must’ve opened a window.
Your daughter had grown quiet with her wet cheek against yours, you kept her wrapped up when you walked across the hallway, the floorboards creaked underneath your bare feet as you opened the door to her nursery. The white curtains in front of her window were softly flowing with the cool breeze, you silently thanked König for opening the windows. The cooler temperature would make Mellie comfortable. You rested your baby on her changing table and was quick to put a new nappy on her, the little one looked up at you drowsily. You were quick to put her ducky towel over her little body to keep her warm as you opened a drawer or two in the table, looking for your little tub of baby vapor rub - something your mother swore by when she came to visit months ago. You weren’t very keen on using it unless either of your babies were incredibly sick, and the way Mellie was acting definitely made you feel like this cold was gonna be a bad one.
You put just a little smidge of the rub on her chest, rubbing it in and keeping an eye on her little face. “Look at Mama, bug.” Her eyes were staring right behind you, something she always did, but she didn’t look back to you. She turned her head the other way, looking at the wall. A sigh left your lips as you kept gently rubbing her chest.
She’s just sick, she’ll be acting fine soon.
You picked her up again, keeping her tucked into your chest. It was no use trying to put new clothes on her, all of the Riley girls strip off their clothes when they’re sick, no matter how old - you included. Mellie murmured against your chest, hands holding onto the shirt of Simon’s you were wearing. “We’re gonna go lay down with Mama this time, okay?”
She shook her little head into your chest as you moved out of her nursery and then into your bedroom, very easily holding Mellie with one arm as the other pulled back the blankets. You tugged Simon’s pillow to be in the middle of his side and then slid yourself in between the cold covers. You placed Mellie on her back, the pillow acting like a barrier between her and the end of the bed. Fortunately, Mellie didn’t like to move around when she was sick - she stayed in the same place, so it was easy for you to pull yourself under the covers and over her belly. Her hand gripped the sleeve of your shirt, tears welled in her eyes as she murmured some noises.
Your head settled on your pillow, you gently moved Mellie’s hand so you could move onto your side. Your hand then rested on her forehead, feeling her temperate had gone down a little but she was still warm.
“We’ll talk to Dad when he gets off work, okay?” You murmured, your hand then rested on Mellie’s stomach.
She cooed a little, a whisper escaped her lips, “Dada.”
You smiled at your baby. “Yeah, Dada. Mama’s gonna call and we’ll talk to him.” You reached your arm out and grabbed your phone, noting that the time was almost six. You unlocked your phone and shot Simon a text, hoping he’d respond soon. In the mean time, you put your phone on his pillow before curling up, watching little Mellie was she watched you. “We gotta wait, lovie. Sissy will want to talk to Dad too.”
She shook her head a little, a smile appeared on your face.
“Mmhmm. Dad’s working, he’ll call us in a minute.”
A thunder of footsteps could be heard downstairs as well as the distinct laugh of Winnie, you smiled. Winnie always found you when she came home, which would be perfect timing if Simon called. You turned over to look at your bedroom door, hearing her rushing footsteps as they approached your room before she burst in, her pigtails half undone and a huge grin on her face. “Mama!”
“Hi, baby!” You instantly smiled, putting an arm out to let her grab so you could pull her up - she helped pull herself up onto the bed and instantly fell onto your chest, forcing a loud “Oof!” from your throat. Her little head was shoved into your neck, arms around your chest as best they could as your one arm wrapped tightly around her. “Did you have fun, my love?”
Furious nodding ensued from your eldest daughter. “Uncle Roach fell off the swing set.” A giggle escaped her lips and a chuckle left yours as you looked down to her brunette hair. “And I got an ice lolly.”
“Did you thank your uncle and aunt?”
“Yes, Mama.”
You kissed her hair. “Good girl. I was seeing if Dad wanted to call, do you want to talk to him?”
She nodded into your neck, but gently pet her back as she mumbled, “I miss Dad.”
You sighed a little. “I do too.”
Winnie raised her head from your neck, a little frown on her face. “When is he coming home?”
Your hand was quick to pull the ties from her pigtails, unable to look your daughter in the face as you said, “Soon, baby.”
“Is Melsie sick?” The girl peered over you to look at Mellie, you looked too - the baby was gazing at both of you, a smile appeared on your face. Her little face looked tired, her hands resting on her own chest. “She looks sick, Mama.”
You sighed, your other hand coming to settle on top of your baby’s belly, she whimpered. You fully turned your head to look at Mellie, the little baby looking and feeling sick made you upset. Such a sweet little thing didn’t deserve to be uncomfortable and in pain. “She is sick, Winnie. Can you take my phone from Dad’s pillow?”
The older girl moved over your chest, stretching over her baby sister and then bringing your phone to rest on your chest. As you did, it began to vibrate - you pulled your hand away from Winnie to hold it and answer Simon’s call.
“Hi love.”
A squeal came from Winnie as she chirped, “Daddy!”
“Hi, Duckling. How are you?”
She giggled, taking the phone in her hands and she began to chat with her dad, telling him all about her fun adventures with her Uncle Roach and Auntie Kate. You watched her smile get wider with every second she talked to Simon, your hand went to settle on Mellie’s stomach. She whined a little, you glanced to Mellie but you couldn’t stop watching how happy Winnie was.
It reminded you of when Simon would call every night he could and read Winnie to sleep when she was two. She would be so happy to hear his voice when he had been physically gone for weeks, she would always react to his voice when he called since he had started when she was one. It was sweet, you couldn’t ever get over just how much your husband adored his daughters.
Mellie cooed a little, hearing Simon’s voice and letting out a small, “Dada.”
“Winnie,” Your hand reached out for Winter, who looked to you with a curious glare. “It’s Mellie’s turn.”
And there it was, Winnie’s signature pout. With her bottom lip pushed out and tears at the ready, she murmured, “But she can’t talk, Mama. I wanna talk to Daddy.”
“I know, but it’s been a few minutes.” You raised your chest from the bed, now able to swoop some curls around Winnie’s ear. “Mellie needs to hear from him too, even if she can’t talk back. Come on, now.” Winnie let out a grumble, you heard Simon’s deep chuckling as the phone was placed on your chest. “Thank you.”
You settled the phone near Mellie’s head as Winnie crawled over, curling herself onto Simon’s pillow as the baby cooed, “Dada.”
“Hi, Mellie.”
That spooked Mellie, causing her to take frantic looks around as she kicked out her feet. Her older sister laughed, watching her Melsie look for their dad.
“Dada Dada.” Your baby’s little head moved to look at you, one hand reached out for your face - you intercepted it with your own hand, a smile on your face.
“I bet she’s confused.”
You nodded to yourself before saying a soft, “She misses you, Si.”
There was a moment where you knew exactly how Simon would react to that, knowing he’d be sitting on his bed and clenching his blanket in his grasp, trying to stop the tears that have rarely fell in his home with you.
“I miss my girls.”
“We miss you too.” You looked to your phone, a part of you wishing that it was physically him instead. Hair tousled, eyes soft and smile wide - he’d be holding Mellie while she cried, gently talking to her to calm her down. He would be home soon, I felt it in my heart. I kissed Mellie before I reached for Winnie, kissing her forehead. “Just wanted to let the girls hear your voice, baby. We love you.”
“I love you too. I’ll be home soon.”
Simon stared at his phone, mask in hand as he sat in his curtain darkened office. The only illumination was his phone and his computer in front of him - he felt he deserved to sit in darkness until he finally came home to his girls, his daylight.
He flicked the small printed photo of his family in his free hand, it was the one he kept in his wallet.
“I know it’s early, but I’m gonna try and get them to sleep. Mel’s starting some sort of cold.”
Simon’s heart ached. He wished to be home that very second so he could scoop his little girl into his arms and love on her. “I’m sorry I’m not there to help.”
“You’re being a superhero, Daddy!” Winnie chirped, he could hear her smile. It hurt his heart that he couldn’t hold her either.
“Good night, my girls.” He spoke softly. “I love you.”
You whispered your good night and your love for him, all while Winnie pressed her face to the phone with giggles. The call ended, and Simon was left in a cold dark room, hours from home on a base that he’s only been twice before.
His eyes glanced over to his desktop, rereading the information on the target.
Last seen in London, UK three days ago.
Blond, green eyed, bulk build. Associated with Russian Mafia.
The photo box was empty. Every man who had eyes on him couldn’t get an image fast enough, weren’t skilled enough to see that he had slipped onto a train to Manchester to find his son. Simon could never know that his entire life hung in the balance of one man. And it wasn’t even himself.
He shut off his computer, sliding a hand down his face. He stretched back in his chair before he stood, still flipping the picture in his fingers as he made his way to his small cot. If he closed his eyes for a moment, even in the darkness of this already solitary office, he could imagine himself getting back into his bed. Under the soft sheets, arms curled around you and leg tucked in between yours.
He sat on his dark green canvas cot, toed off his already unlaced boots, and let his back hit the wall.
There were going to be many sleepless nights ahead of him, and it wasn’t even because he had to be awake and vigilant. It was because he yearned for you.
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hamsterclaw · 1 year ago
Text
Every time like the first time
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A Vows story.
Pairing: Yoongi x F! reader
Genre: Arranged marriage AU, chaebol! Yoongi
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: Sex, swearing
Yoongi’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, but he’s pretty sure you have no idea.
You’re definitely up to something.
He knows all the signs by now.
The restlessness of your fingers, tapping the glass coffee table. The furtive sidelong glances you keep giving him.
Yoongi stifles a smile when you undo the top two buttons of your blouse and tug it down a little.
He pretends to be engrossed in his book as you slide onto the couch next to him.
Soon you’re so close you’re practically in his lap.
Yoongi lifts his gaze from his book and turns to look at you like he’s just realised you’re there.
‘Hi, jagiya.’
You’re smiling cheerfully at him.
‘Hi, oppa.’
Yoongi asks, ‘Do you need something?’
‘No,’ you answer.
Yoongi nods to the open neck of your blouse. ‘Looks like a button came undone. Shall I fix it?’
You frown as he re-buttons your blouse, without touching you at all.
Yoongi asks, ‘Are you sure there’s nothing you need?’
You hesitate. ‘No, I don’t need anything.’
‘Anything you want?’ Yoongi prompts.
‘No.’ Even less convincing.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow. ‘Well I’m trying to finish this book, so ——‘
‘Sorry,’ you say.
You sit up and go back to your side of the couch.
You glance at your phone and sigh.
Yoongi ignores you.
He’s just got back into his book when he feels something land on his arm.
Yoongi glances at the pen cap that’s landed beside him. ‘Did you throw this at me?’
You’re all wide eyes and innocence. ‘No, Yoongi.’
Yoongi scoffs but decides to let it slide.
A moment later a pen lands on his thigh, bounces off onto the couch.
Yoongi stares at it, then you.
‘Anything you want to tell me, jagiya?’
You’re buried in your phone.
A moment later Yoongi’s phone buzzes in his pocket.
Mrs Min: Yooooongi
Yoongi’s careful not to show any discenible reaction as he swipes away the text and puts his phone back in his pocket. His phone vibrates again, and Yoongi ignores it.
Finally you get up. You’re at the door of his study, hand on the door handle, when Yoongi says, low, ‘Come back here.’
For a split second, it almost looks like you’re about to ignore him.
Then you turn around and throw yourself into his arms.
Yoongi has the breath knocked out of him as you land in his lap.
‘Yoongi,’ you say, anguished. ‘I’m sorry.’
Yoongi nudges your head with his chin. ‘What for?’
You gnash your teeth. ‘I promise you, I’ll fix it.’
Now he’s worried. ‘What did you do, jagiya?’
‘I bought Min Holdings.’
Now that you’ve blurted it out, you slump over in his lap, boneless in your confession.
Yoongi says, slowly, ‘You bought Min Holdings? My family’s company?’
‘I’ll sell it back to you,’ you say, hurriedly.
Yoongi’s lost for words.
You’re already holding out a stack of documents, miserable.
‘It was meant to be the final stroke in my plot to destroy you when we first got married,’ you confess.
‘I hired a specialist team for mergers and acquisitions, years ago, and they’ve been buying shares in your company ever since.’
You look at your hands. ‘Then I teamed up with Jung Hoseok.’
‘Jung Hoseok?’
You misunderstand his question. ‘The CEO of Jungcorp —‘
‘I know who he is,’ Yoongi interrupts.
You wring your hands. ‘Anyway I’ve bought Jung Hoseok out, and I’m the majority shareholder in Min Holdings now.’
Yoongi’s taken aback by the extent of your treachery.
‘Y/N, this is excessive, even for you.’
At the sound of your name, you flinch like he’s struck you.
‘I’m so sorry Yoongi, at first I did it because I was so angry and then —-‘
‘Then I did it to see if I could.’
You bow your head.
Yoongi takes the papers you’re holding out to him.
He waits until you’re looking at him.
‘Are you saying that you own my family’s company now?’
Your face crumples. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’
You nod to the papers. ‘Please sign these and I’ll give it all back,’ you plead.
Yoongi asks, very quietly, ‘How can I trust you?’
You react like you’d expected him to say that.
‘I can’t ask you to trust me.’
You’re looking at him earnestly. ‘And if you —-‘
You stop, swallow, start again. ‘If you wanted to divorce me, I wouldn’t contest it.’
Yoongi stares at your bowed head.
‘I know I’ve gone too far, Yoongi. Please forgive me.’
Yoongi puts the papers down.
‘Look at me.’
You meet his gaze with effort.
‘I’ve known about this for a long time,’ he tells you.
Your eyes widen.
‘Min Holdings has been the target for a dozen takeover bids over the years,’ Yoongi says, gently. ‘You wouldn’t have been able to get as far as you have without us finding out.’
‘Then why?’
Yoongi says, simply, ‘I know you would never hurt me.’
He smiles. ‘I’ve had a hell of a time convincing my board to let you keep going with your nefarious plot.’
‘Also, my CFO wants to hire you.’
Your heart’s pounding, there’s a rush of blood in your ears. ‘Why would you trust me so much?’
Yoongi touches your face. ‘Why wouldn’t I? You trust me, don’t you?’
He slides his hand down to your neck, wraps his fingers around your throat, under your chin, loose.
‘You trust me to touch you like this, and not to hurt you.’
You shiver visibly at his words, almost leaning into his hand.
Yoongi can read the arousal in your eyes as he tightens his hand.
He says, deep voice dropped even lower, ‘Don’t you?’
He loosens his grip, and you suck in a breath. ‘Yes, Yoongi.’
There’s a huskiness to your voice now, a note of supplication he rarely hears from you.
Yoongi unbuttons your blouse deftly, and when he gets to your skirt he tugs the zipper down.
‘Step out of your clothes, my love.’
He steadies you with his arm around your waist as you shed your clothes and are left in your lingerie.
You can feel your whole body heat up as he gives you a leisurely look up and down, tongue pocketed in his cheek.
‘Look at me.’
His voice is still low, gravelly, commanding.
‘You trust me enough to stand in front of me like this, don’t you?’
You meet his gaze, heart pounding, mouth dry.
‘Because you know I’d never hurt you.’
Yoongi gets up and starts undressing in front of you. He unbuttons his waistcoat, unscrews his collar bar, dropping it on the glass side table with a plink. You step forward.
Yoongi stays perfectly still, looking down at you as you loosen his tie and put it around your own neck.
He tightens it without you having to ask, wraps it round his hand twice, tugging you forward.
‘You trust me to do this, and I trust you to tell me if it’s too much.’
You unbutton his shirt, unbuckle his belt, and Yoongi loosens his grip on the tie around your neck so you can kneel in front of him to take his trousers down.
Yoongi hisses as you mouth along his boxer briefs, the muscles of his thighs tensing under your hands as you find his cock, semi-hard and getting harder by the second under your mouth.
‘Up,’ he grunts, tugging hard on the tie.
You’re breathless by the time you’re standing again.
Yoongi watches you carefully until you mouth ‘I’m ok.’
He reaches behind you to unhook your bra, and you whimper as he leans down to lave your nipples with his tongue.
You’re sensitive, nipples stiff, and you cry out as he kneads your bare breasts with his hands.
Yoongi pulls you down onto the couch, lets go of the tie.
He puts his hand between your legs like it belongs there, and you’re wet, clit throbbing under the pad of his thumb as he presses down.
‘Yoongi!’
He hisses, brings his slick fingers to his mouth and sucks, and your hips move involuntarily, seeking him again.
Yoong pinches the soft flesh over your hip. ‘Keep still, baby,’ he says sternly.
He nudges his cock over your cunt, sliding it up against you.
He slaps your hip. ‘Thighs together.’
You watch as he slides himself between your thighs, the smooth head of him nudging up against your clit as he lunges his hips.
Yoongi takes your face in his hand, holding you firmly so you’ll look at him.
‘You trust me to be inside you like this,’ he says, voice like velvet as he enters you.
You gasp at the feel of him, and he pushes two fingers into your open mouth.
Yoongi groans, and you can feel the shudder of pleasure racking his frame.
‘Every time like the first time, jagiya,’ he tells you, pupils blown, top teeth sinking into the plush of his lower lip as he moves.
You wrap your arms around him, holding on as he pulls out almost all the way, slides back into you.
He flows and ebbs into you, moving in the way he knows pleasures you the most.
‘Good girl,’ he says, emphatic, grunting his approval into your ear as you come.
He picks up the pace then, pressing kisses to your face, his thrusts quicker, shallower, until he stills, hard and leaking inside you.
‘You trust me to give you myself like this,’ he says quietly. ‘There’s no one else I trust more than you.’
He kisses you again, and you feel him filling you. He stays, hard and twitching inside you, long after he’s come and for the first time since you learned your plot succeeded, you’re at peace.
***
Yoongi wakes so quietly he catches you admiring his bare back.
‘Ah, jagiya,’ he observes. ‘What are you plotting now?’
You tug the covers up over your bare breasts.
‘I was just admiring you,’ you tell him truthfully.
Yoongi turns over onto his back. ‘Don’t let me stop you,’ he says, giving you a smirk so cocky you want to throttle him.
‘You’re going to be late for work,’ you tell him.
‘No, you’re going to be late,’ Yoongi says, shrugging.
‘Technically, I never signed those papers, so the company is your responsibility now.’
You blink at him.
‘You’re going to need more than that face if you want to win people over,’ Yoongi says, sitting up. ‘Not everyone on my board will be as easily swayed by it as I am.’
You consider him carefully as he gets up and heads to the bathroom.
‘I guess I’ll just call Jung Hoseok for help,’ you call out.
Yoongi doesn’t even turn. ‘Hobi and I go way back,’ he informs you. ‘I’m sure he’d help you.’
‘Hobi,’ you mutter, disgruntled.
You trail behind your husband as he enters the bathroom and starts brushing his teeth.
‘Can you help me?’
Yoongi barely spares you a glance. ‘Say please.’
Your brow furrows with irritation. ‘I begged your forgiveness yesterday,’ you point out.
‘And today I want you to say please,’ Yoongi returns.
He puts the shower on.
‘I’m looking forward to having more time off,’ he muses, ‘whilst you run the company.’
You step into the shower behind him.
‘Please,’ you mutter.
‘What��s that? You’ll have to speak up,’ Yoongi says, the bastard.
‘Please!’ you snap.
‘Is that how you ask for things, brat?’
‘Please, Yoongi,’ you say. ‘Please please please take your company back.’
‘Fine,’ Yoongi says, nonchalant. ‘But you owe me.’
He laughs at your outraged expression as he turns.
‘Wash my back, brat.’
©hamsterclaw 2023
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eoieopda · 2 years ago
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the one where hoseok comes home
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Pairing: Jung Hoseok x gn!Reader Type: Drabble // Fluff // Established Relationship AU Rating: PG-13 — Minors DNI w/ my content, regardless! CW: None 💕 Summary: It’s October 2024 and your life finally — finally — resumes its orbit. WC: .5k A/N: Deviating from my WIPs (ope) because I needed a fix-it fic for, like, reality? Nobody requested this lil baby blurb, unless you count… me. Dedicated to (m)y jihope-biased emotional support moot, @here2bbtstrash
You’d learned more in eighteen months than you had in over eighteen years of formal education.
The first lesson came on your second morning alone: hotteok tastes better when it’s made for you. Even if the cook gets distracted by the background music they themselves are generating. Even if the edges are crispier than they should be, and the centers are a bit gooey, or there’s pre-packaged mix dusting over your previously clean countertops. Even if that hotteok is cold by the time you stop kissing and start eating, you know now that few things in life are sweeter.
He is, of course, but the point still stands.
Showers, you’d learned, are colder when you take them alone. This was a surprise you grappled with for weeks and a confounding reality you still struggle to square. A scientific mystery, then and now.
All of the hot water was yours — exclusively — to use as you pleased. You didn’t have to scramble, soap-covered and squealing, for the prime spot under the shower head. Cold air didn’t nip at your damp skin when you lost territory because you didn’t have to compete for any in the first place. Still, without whole-chested laughter to echo off the walls, not much existed to separate your body from cold porcelain.
The absence of personal space isn’t something you intend to ever take for granted again.
Of all the things you’d realized in your uncharacteristically quiet apartment, one thing hit a little harder:
Love looks different every day.
Sometimes, it comes at an odd angle. It’s spending all thirty minutes of a daily allowance with a phone propped against a faucet. It’s staring up at someone’s chin, watching fondly as they brush their teeth, and smiling when they remember — without being told — to put the cap back on the toothpaste.
Other times, it looks like an Excel spreadsheet of pop culture news, fastidiously collected and organized so that no groundbreaking celebrity gossip goes unreported. It’s incredulous eyes and a scandalized mouth hanging open, interjecting occasionally with, “Wa, jinjja?”
Every now and then, it looks like handwritten letters with thick, black redactions applied after the fact with a far heavier hand. Though you couldn’t tell where in the Republic they came from, you knew — without question — that government censorship does not apply to hastily doodled hearts.
Today, however, love doesn’t look like much of anything because its hands are covering your eyes.
It sounds like clean spoons clattering back into the dishwasher you’d been emptying, entirely unaware that the door down the hall had opened and shut out of earshot. It smells like army-issued shampoo and Thai milk tea from that little spot near the train station, where surprise journeys home occur two days ahead of schedule. And it feels like the ground shifting beneath your fluffy house slippers; the Earth now back on its axis and ready to resume spinning like it should.
Tonight, love will taste like hotteok for dinner — and you won’t have to make it yourself.
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thewritersaddictions · 1 year ago
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Day Twenty-Seven: Albert Wesker + 2x Penetration
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You'd been working with your captian for a few years now. You'd been right there when he destroyed the Umbrella corporation. At the end of that you stayed by your Captains side.
Even if he pushed you to leave him, leave the group that had become smaller in the past few years. Regardless you stayed by his side. Wesker had asked you to become his personal assitant, getting hsi coffee and anything else that he needed. Paperwork, pens from the drawers, whatever he needed you got for him.
The thing about Wesker is that he's always making passes at you. His large and cold hand grabbing the back of your neck one time. Or how softly his fingers feel when they brush up agasint yours when you give him his coffee cup.
Let's be hoenst you've always been a snoopy person. It started when you were a kid, looking to see if you could tell what you got for christmas, going into your mothers purse and stealing a twenty from her wallet.
But this… this was the worst. You shamelessly were snooping through your Captains drawers at his desk. He had told ou that he needed something his office, but then curoisity got the cat. Your hand just had to reach for the drawers handle.
The first drawers was fine, it was filled with pens, unmarked sticky-notes, and some chewy gum. A minty flavor whafting from inside the drawer.
The second drawer to the opposite was just as empty. A few papers in folders stacked on top of each other. There were a few written on sticky notes, and a calendar book.
Underneath were two more, but for some reason your attention took you away from the drawer to the left and brought it all to the one right in front of you. You dropped whatever Wesker had you come into the office and orignally get for him. It landed with no sound to the top of the desk. Then your hand was gripping the drawers handle hard.
You pulled the drawer open, and was saly met with nothing to appealing, a few more folders and paper work. The amount of paperwork packed away made you discouraged to look through the other drawer, but as you were closin the drawer in front of you something caughter your eye.
A towel wrapped around something, shifting a few things in the drawer you pulled the towel out, and out fell something… a toy of sorts. Why would your captain have need for a toy like this, at work no less. The dildo sat on it base, standing tall and proud. You picked it up, holding it weight in your hands. The girth of the dildo was much more then you had ever taken, and before you could put it back… you were caught.
"Y/n, what's taking you so… long." You couldn't see the smirk, but you could hear it in his voice. You tried to swallow and think of something to say, but with a six-inch dildo in your hand and an open drawer you weren't getting away with anything.
You shifted your weight on your feet, your bottom lip between your teeth, and turned to look at your captain. He was already moving towards you, a strong and wide stance the closer he got to you.
Nothing was stopping you from dropping the toy, and running out of his office. "Were being naughty? Poking around my stuff." Wesker asks you, you can't look at him right now. All the teasing all of the forward passes he's made at you has your thighs in a constant battle with each other.
When you do try to move it's already to late. His hand is wrapped around your bicep in a matter of seconds. "You know sweetpea, I think you like being naughty." he says is voice so deep, and calm. It makes your knees buckle.
"Come on now sweetpea, make me wish comes true. I know you like when I touch you." Wesker whispers into your ear before licking it. You don't bite back the moans you just let them fall freely.
Your skirt seems to hide nothing, and give away everything. Wesker moves you in such a way that has you pressed up agasint the desks surface. He flips us your skirt, a gush of cool air hitting your dampen panties. "Cap…" You moan out in revernace, "Oh be quiet sweetpea, I'll take care of you." The dildo is now sitting next to you. Base suctioned to the desks top.
Your panties are slide down your legs, and the sticky wetness follows with a string. "Look at you so wet, and it's all for me right sweetheart?" He asks. Not really looking, or caring for an answer when he shoves a finger, and then another into your soaking cunt.
Your moans bounces on the walls as he beings to finger your hole. your breasts are pressed into the hard wood surface, but you don't seem to care. 'Captain… fuck please…" You moan out as you buck into him. When he spits down at your ass you shirek with a mixture of pleasure and anxiety.
"Oh don't worry princess, I've got you now." He murmurs to you, you feel the shift, you hear the sound ofths zipper being undone, and then the press of his cock againt your entrance. Tight as frist when her pushes his head in, and then the sudden slam has you breathless.
A few thrusts as you gushing around his cock. "Oh fuck, so fuckin wet. Can you hear how wet you are for me?" He asks, as he continues his rough and hard thrusts. You're to dazed to notice the shift in his weight on your body again, but what you do notice is the intruding feeling at your ass. "captain?" You ask even though it comes out as a moan. "Sweetpea, it's okay. relax for me, you want me to make you feel good right?" You can't deny that the feeling ofhis cock in your cunt, how full you feel has you to unwilling to agrue with him.
The force, and press of that toy. You know it's the toy, the wieght of it, how unreal it feel compared to Weskers cock. You still moan as the head of the dildo makes it past the pressure, the tight squeeze of the dildo makes you want to scream, and the feeling of Wesker cock right next to it makes you fall even further into the desk.
You become limp. Like a rag doll being fucked for not your pleasure. "There you go." Wesker praises you for your relaxation as the dildo makes it the hilt. Now that's over Wesker is back to thursting into you at a vigorous pace, unforgiving. He pumps the toy at the same time, and you relish in the way it all feels. The tightness, the girth and thickness. It all but brings you to your climax.
This of course until Wesker is pressed his weight into your back, and whsiepring dirty things into your hear. Coaxing you to the white bridge of release. Fianlly with a few finally thrusts he's got you were you want to be most, and he's no far behind.
A few heavy, heavy breaths later and you can see clearly. The tears being blinked away. Wesker slips the toy out from your ass throwing it back into the drawer. And slipping out of you with your protest. "Now next time you don't have to go snooping around in my drawers." He leaves you there a mess on his desk. Before Wesker turns and leave the room. He look over his shoulder, proud of himself. "Don't forget those papers I ask for, sweetpea."
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Completed on: 08/17/23
Posted on: 10/27/23
Kinktober 23- @lanad3lreyscokewhor3 @homelanderscumdump @hummusxx@chvnsdimple @vvitzvafflezvv @lokisivy @claud-blood0703 @iliketoreads-stuff @all-that-glitters-is-treasure@clearscissorsbonkgiant-blog @lxonix--ac @piecesofx @mortallyswimmingpainter @playwithfire99 @fucak @everythingneytiri @lovetheos @xxxxxoseungxoooo @durazopato @hotpead42069 @oddseabiscuit @capoda @witching-hour @viviwows @lover103 @alexlovesfiction @katiecat10 @electricfans @jianasmind @max-505 @powerbun21o @the-horny-simp @missy420-0 @jaq-dav @arescosplays
Resident Evil Master List // Resident 4 Master List // Kinktober '23
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starleska · 1 year ago
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barges in/ WHAT ABOUT BTAS JERVIS X READER?
OWO
why, thank you for asking 😉 i've had this persistent concept knocking around my brain wherein Jervis earnestly tries to move past his devotion for Alice...only to tumble straight back down into obsession when he meets You 😳
Jervis Tetch x Reader First Meeting headcanons
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🎩 although it pains him to admit it, the years of unrequited love have taken their toll on Jervis. his Alice is long gone—departed from Gotham with her now-husband (filthy brute), with a new name and her hair dyed a mousey brown. as far as he can tell, she's dropped off the map entirely, and it's been nearly a year since he last caught any trace of her. months in yet another cold, lonely stint at Arkham leave his soul more empty than ever before...and he decides, one lovelorn night, that such suffering should not befall a gentleman. although the thought sickens him, Jervis resolves that when he gets out, he is going to make a fresh start...even just for a while.
🎩 when finally he next escapes (his technology being instrumental in a jailbreak largely orchestrated by the other rogues, of course—no need for him to do their dirty work), Jervis makes good on his promise and leaves Gotham for a few cities over. he travels in civilian clothes and fights the urge to wear any sort of hat, fearing that even a simple cap could betray his identity. yet the experiment is a success. within days he has sequestered himself in an unassuming little apartment, and even ventured out to speak with a neighbour or two, none of whom recognise him as The Mad Hatter. it's a queer feeling, not seeing fear reflected in the eyes of those around him...and it gives him a quiet thrill which makes him forget himself, leaving Jervis grinning far too wide.
🎩 still, Jervis is a man with certain compulsions. he's partial to an afternoon walk, and at 3 o'clock exactly makes his way out into his new city, looking for nothing in particular and simply enjoying air without walls. however, he soon comes across a quaint little teashop, its sign scrawled in a delightful Shakespearean font and the windows ringed with English ivy. "How serendipitous," Jervis murmurs to himself. "I shan't pass up an opportunity such as this...after all, you'd only have to whisper a hint to Time, and round goes the clock in a twinkling!"
🎩 Jervis orders his usual beverage without incident and takes a seat which gives him an excellent view of the whole teashop. his discerning blue eyes scan the room, but it isn't until he's cleared half the customers that he realises he was searching for a glimpse of Alice's golden hair. Jervis sighs, and takes a long, sad sip of his tea—only to splutter when he spots You in the corner of the room. You are tucked up with your legs crossed, your nose buried in a book. there's a little half-smile on your face, and Jervis watches with interest as you chuckle at something you read. he stares at You and the book, and an icy chill of recognition works its way down his spine.
🎩 before he can stop himself, Jervis abandons his tea and makes his way over to You. for a full minute he looms over You quite unnoticed, so absorbed You are by your book. after quietly clearing his throat does not catch your attention, Jervis opts to take the direct approach. "Excuse me, my dear." You look up, curious. Jervis smiles with all his teeth—too bright, too intense. "I do hope you'll forgive my impudence, interrupting you on a fine day such as this. But may I ask...what are you reading?"
🎩 "Oh!" You say with a giggle. You turn the book towards Jervis, revealing the cover. "I'm reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. It's my favourite story."
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blurredcolour · 1 year ago
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Shake It Off
Summary: Called to the Lee/Hamilton wedding near the start of your shift to aid an eighty-year-old woman experiencing chest pains, you hope against hope not to run into someone from your past. But the man you meet there might just be your future.
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Paramedic!Reader
Warnings: Medical Scenarios, Awkward Social Situations, Dress Whites, Language, Military Inaccuracies, Paramedical Inaccuracies, Rating - T.
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Author's Note: Inspired by the song Shake It Off by Taylor Swift, written for @laracrofted's 1989 Challenge! Thank you very much for hosting the challenge, Amelia!
Word Count: 3075
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Maybe he won’t be here.
The thought was fleeting, and born of desperation, as you pulled up to behind the fire truck in front of the Horton Grand Hotel.
There are plenty of people with the last name of Lee, the fact that this call is taking us to the Lee/Hamilton wedding doesn’t mean he will be here. Maybe it won’t even be a Navy wedding.
Jumping out of the driver’s seat of the ambulance, your hopes were immediately dashed as a tall man in dress whites stepped forward when you reached the rear doors.
“Damn, angel, you are devastating.” He drawled smoothly and you fairly felt his eyes, mostly obscured beneath the brim of his combination cap, tracing down your uniform as you reached forward to help your partner Delgado unload the stretcher.
“Good evening, sir.” You replied with crisp professionalism. “We’re here because someone called 911?”
“You brought one of those AEDs, right? Because I think you stopped my heart…” His peach-pink lips stretched back into a grin to reveal two rows of perfectly straight, white teeth.
“You’re our 80-year-old woman, sir? Please describe your chest pain.” Delgado replied flatly and you bit your lip to prevent your smirk, loading your gear onto the gurney.
Delgado was your first regular EMT partner since your move to San Diego nearly a year ago, wooed by the $50,000 bonus Falck offered to try and stabilize their work force. He was young, his social skills more than a little rough around the edges, but he worked hard and knew his stuff. Listened to your personal woes without too much complaint and was quite honestly the closest person you had to a friend here - working the graveyard shift as a paramedic really did not afford a lot of social opportunities.
And right now, you did not at all mind that he was there to get between you and the pretty boy in uniform. Because that meant he might be willing to run interference with someone else if the need arose.
“Ms. Mable is just this way, follow me.” The handsome stranger replied easily, undeterred, and turned to lead the pair of you through the lobby, smoothly tucking his cap under his arm as he stepped inside – a well practiced move you did your damnedest to ignore. Particularly the flex of his bicep.
Following just a few steps behind him, you guided the foot of the stretcher as Delgado came last, pushing the head of it. The lobby was narrow, no more than a tiled hallway really, with a wall of windows overlooking a New Orleans style courtyard – currently filled with women in formal dresses, men in suits, and a sea of dress whites. You quickly ducked your head, focusing on following the shoes of the man in front of you.
“I’m honestly not sure what happened, she seemed to be having a great time, dancing and laughing…and then she started clutching at her chest, having trouble catching her breath.” You perked up as he finally began to say something useful.
“Did the firefighters move her somewhere more quiet?” You asked as he led the pair of you past the sign welcoming guests to the Lee/Hamilton Wedding and over to a door beside the front desk.
“Yes, we were using this space for the wedding party anyway, so we set her up in the meeting room, just here.” Pulling open the door, he gestured for you and Delgado to proceed inside.
The crew from the fire truck had set a makeshift bench out of banquet chairs for her to sit upon, the wheeled meeting chairs pushed into a corner to make as much room as possible, but it still felt cramped. The patient was resting comfortably while Lombardo, their firefighter/paramedic, was assessing her vitals and reviewing the cardiac monitor.
Ms. Mable was all of five foot two, a cloud of perfectly styled, white hair upon her head, not a strand out of place despite the dramatic turn her evening had taken. Her face was etched with the lines of a life well-lived, yet she was easily holding court amongst the crew of physically intimidating individuals, animatedly recounting a story about the cutting of a cake with a sword, based on the few words you were able to catch. They stood in their suspendered Nomex trousers and heavy boots, entranced by her performance, as a woman in her mid-fifties sat close at hand, keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings.
“Thank you for your assistance, sir.” You quickly tossed back over your shoulder to your guide before diving right into the scene, pulling on your nitrile gloves, all concern about the possible presence of a certain individual vanishing in the face of your job.
Once Lombardo had fully handed the scene over to you, as it was quite apparent that this was most likely a case of angina for which the woman already carried a prescription of nitroglycerin, you settled in to talk with Ms. Mable yourself. The departure of the first responders made the room feel infinitely more spacious.
“I hear you were tearing it up on the dance floor this evening…” You smiled warmly as Delgado continued to track her vitals.
“I’ve always had a hard time saying no to good-looking pilots….my Gerry was a pilot, you know. Fifty-three years together and he got away with everything. So, when this handsome, blonde flyboy from Texas kept asking me to dance there was no way I could turn him down.” The corners of her eyes creased with mirth, and you grinned warmly as the woman laughed beside her, shaking her head fondly.
“Breathing and cognition are good.” You turned back to Delgado who added the notes to the electronic file with a nod. “How many sprays of nitroglycerin did you end up taking, Ms. Mable?”
“Two, five minutes apart, just like the pamphlet says. I really am feeling much better, I’m so sorry to have made such a fuss but my daughter, Deborah, had already dialed before I could stop her.”
“No apologies necessary, it’s always better to be safe than sorry.” You nodded to her daughter reassuringly. “Are you local or just in town for the wedding?”
“Oh, lived here for the past forty years ever since Gerry was stationed at Miramar. Once you give up snow for palm trees and sand it’s impossible to ever go back. I saw you’re not wearing a ring, dear, is that just for the job?”
Delgado snorted indelicately and if it were not for the paperwork involved you would have delivered a swift kick to his shin.
“No, Ms. Mable, just haven’t found the right man yet.” You steadily increased the volume of your voice to drown out Delgado’s utterance of ‘not for lack of trying.’ “You have a cardiologist whom you see regularly?”
Mable blinked a little at the sudden change in your tone but answered all the same, “Dr. Atwal, same age as my grandson. But he knows his business, so I listen to him. San Diego is a fabulous place to meet a young fellow you know, so many eligible men out there. A lot of handsome pilots especially…even here tonight.”
A flash of movement, accompanied by a swell in the noise of the reception down the hall, caught your attention and you raised your eyes to see the face of your guide from earlier peering through a small gap in the doorway.
“Lieutenant Seresin…” You heard Ms. Mabel sigh fondly before her heart rate began to increase alarmingly. Your eyes snapped to the cardiac monitor to review the screen for evidence of any abnormal rhythms, aware of Delgado doing the same in your periphery.
“Now Ms. Mabel, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Jake…” He drawled and that’s when you placed his accent…Texas.
He was the handsome fly boy at the centre of all the tumult then. Somehow this did not surprise you at all.
“Where would the fun be in that, Lieutenant?” Came Mable’s repartee with a wicked grin and you straightened, well aware that you needed to put a stop to this before she reached her maximum doses of nitro just for a little flirting.
“Lieutenant Seresin, would you mind stepping out so we can do our jobs? Thank you.” You turned to look up at him authoritatively, wishing you weren’t able to see how green his eyes were in this light. How his hair reminded you of spun gold, especially when it was highlighted by the medals and pins and buttons of his uniform.
“Apologies Miss, just wanted to check on Ms. Mable here…” You noticed the way his grip tightened on the wood of the door and his eyes flitted to the floor guiltily.
He was not the first nosey by-stander you had asked to step back, nor would he be the last, and yet your heart spasmed as though you had kicked his puppy.
“Much better, and she’ll continue on that path if we can finish up, thank you.” You found yourself reassuring him, willfully ignoring Delgado’s scoff.
Whether your boot knocking into his was intentional or an accident was something he, thankfully, did not question. With a sigh of relief, the Lieutenant closed the door, and you were able to turn your attention fully back to your patient, whose heart rate was normalizing, yet her eyes were full of mischief.
“Quite the catch, isn’t he?” She fairly crowed.
You cleared your throat forcefully to refocus and looked over everything once more. “Ms. Mable, I really don’t think you’re having a heart attack. Of course, we do recommend going to the hospital to have everything checked out by the doctors there.”
She was already shaking her head halfway through your statement. “Absolutely unnecessary, young lady. Where’s the thing to sign? I don’t need another ambulance ride.”
“Mom, are you sure? She said they recommend…”
“Deborah, no. If you want, you can drive me, but this is excessive.”
After a little more back and forth, Ms. Mable ended up signing the ‘refusal of service against medical advice’ form and you and Delgado packed up your gear.
“Have a good night Ms. Mable, but maybe stay away from blonde pilots from Texas?” You teased warmly before making your way back out to the lobby.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom. Finally, a chance to pee somewhere with nice smelling soap.” Delgado excused himself, leaving you alone next to a circular table near the front entrance.
The sound of the wedding party drifting through glass doors behind you in the courtyard fanned the banked coals of your anxiety into roaring flames once more now that the distraction of your duties had been removed. Brigham had to be here somewhere, this was surely his pilot’s wedding…
You surged forward toward the front doors, wanting to at least wait outside, and nearly ran headfirst into Lieutenant Seresin.
“Easy there, angel. Sorry about that. Already on your way to your next call?” He steadied you easily, hands on your shoulders. Enveloping your shoulders.
Shaking your head quickly, you laughed once at yourself. “Just heading outside to wait for my partner, the gurney takes up a lot of space.” You stepped out of his grasp and swallowed thickly. “Have a good night, Lieutenant.” You tried once again to make your escape but found him walking along with you, on the other side of the stretcher. Helping.
“Ms. Mable refused to take a ride with you?” He asked, sliding his cover onto his head as you stepped outside.
You shrugged softly, not really at liberty to discuss it, opening the back of the ambulance and loading the stretcher inside. “Thank you for your help, I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy the rest of the party.”
He smirked, leaning against the back of ambulance unhurriedly. “You seemed to be missing the part where I’m much more interested in getting to know you, angel.”
You opened your mouth to try and summon some form of polite refusal when you heard his voice.
“Yo Hangman, are you harassing anything in a uniform these days?” Followed by that irritating laugh that you had never really had a chance to try and find a reason to love.
You watched the muscle between Lieutenant Seresin’s eyebrows twitch before he turned to face the jokester, revealing Brigham “Harvard” Lennox. He looked exactly the same as your second and final date nearly six months ago, appearance slightly improved by the dress whites, though you noticed his cap was negligently still tucked beneath his arm. His arm upon which a dewy-skinned, long-limbed, glossy-haired woman hung.
He blinked a little in recognition as his eyes fell upon your face and you offered a polite smile.
“Nice to see you again…” he said a name, not your name, but at least the first letter was the same. For the sake of letting this agony end, you would have let it go, if not for Delgado’s untimely return.
His reflexive correction of your first name as he walked through the group to hop up into the back of the ambulance without a second’s hesitation immediately thickened the ambient tension.
“Oh right, yeah, been a while huh?” Brigham grinned vacuously, not even having the grace to appear embarrassed. “Lookin’ good…” He added disingenuously, glancing over your uniform with less than kind eyes, moving his arm to wrap around his date’s silk-clad waist. You watched as her perfectly manicured gel nails came to rest on his bicep, a silent proclamation that her job, if she had one, was nothing like yours.
“Oh shit, this is that pilot who ghosted you a while back.” Delgado blurted out from over your shoulder where he was stowing the last of the gear, and you clenched your fists.
“Weapon systems officer.” You snapped despite your desire to keep the exchange civil, but halfway through the correction, you realized you were speaking in unison with Lieutenant Seresin.
You didn’t miss the way Brigham’s jaw clenched in dismay before turning to see Delgado backing away with both hands raised in surrender. “Whatever, I’ll be up front.”
“So, which one of your ‘exam questions’ did she fail, Harvard?” Lieutenant Seresin asked, tone light and playful but with a dangerous edge to it.
The latter scoffed and shook his head. “What are you even talking about Hangman?!” He protested loudly.
“Baby, I’ll meet you at the car, ‘kay?” Brigham’s date pulled back, patting his chest, and tottered away on her heels.
“No really,” Lieutenant Seresin dropped the friendly façade and looked over his colleague seriously. “Which was it then? Exclusivity? Kids? Careers?”
As he listed each topic his eyes flicked between your face and Brigham’s increasingly scarlet and annoyed expression. You tried to keep an impassive mask but there was a slight tick in your jaw as you involuntarily clenched your teeth at the word ‘career.’ You had long suspected that had been the reason his texts had stopped coming. The fact that you wanted one and he wanted someone to dedicate their lives to supporting him in his.
Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes flashed in recognition, and he rounded on Brigham. “Apologize to the lady for ghosting her over having career ambitions, Harvard.” He said firmly.
“What the hell are you even talking about Hangman, you don’t even know…” Brigham sputtered in protest and a small part of you wanted to tell Lieutenant Seresin not to worry about it.
“You were an idiot, Brigham. Now apologize.” He repeated firmly and any thought of excusing Brigham’s behaviour died in that instant, because it was true. He had been an idiot and it had been painful. You had been rather convinced it was going nowhere fast, but sudden and complete silence had hurt all the same.
You almost missed the apology as the first time Brigham delivered it; he used that wrong name again. Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes narrowed into an icy glare, and it was quickly amended to your proper name.
“Now go find your date before you screw up that relationship too.” Lieutenant Seresin gestured with his chin for him to go away before barking after him, “Cover!”
Brigham slammed his cap onto his head and only walked faster toward the parking lot as you chewed on your lower lip savagely lest you do something unseemly like indulge in laughter at his expense. You took a steadying breath before turning back to face your unexpected ally.
“Come on, they’re holding calls!” Delgado shouted from the front seat, and you exhaled with that withheld laugh. One that Lieutenant Seresin echoed.
“In an effort to restore the reputation of the United States Navy, and prove to you that Brigham Lennox is an aberration, will you let me take you out for a drink?” He tilted his head with an inviting curl of his lips.
He had absolutely no right looking that attractive, or being that good of a man, or putting Brigham in his place so handily.
“I…I’m sorry I just started my shift at nine…” You fussed with your stethoscope nervously, trying to pull it into place around your neck even though it was already right where it was most comfortable.
“What time do you get off, then?” He persisted. “I’ll buy you breakfast.”
You frowned in thought, weighing the pros and cons of spending more time on another Navy boy, when an all-call came through the radio, drowning out your internal dialogue.
–  All available units, MCI northbound interstate five just after First Avenue underpass, please respond –
Your eyes widened as Delgado immediately picked up the receiver.
“Medic 3-6 responding, approximately seven minutes out.”
“Lieutenant, I have to go.” You looked to him quickly, stepping up into the ambulance, closing one door and reaching for the second as he swung it towards you. You stopped it suddenly with your palm, yanking a business card containing your station information from your front pocket and slid it into his free hand.
“My shift ends at nine, won’t be ready before 9:30. As for when I get off…” You couldn’t hold back your smirk any longer, your heart skipping a beat, making you thankful you weren’t hooked up to the cardiac monitor just then. “…we’ll just have to see about that.”
His blinding grin was the last thing you saw before you pulled the other door to the rig shut, shouting for Delgado to pull out, lights and sirens ablaze.
-------------------------
>>> return to main masterlist
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antebunny · 18 days ago
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a summer is sold
[part six of my fae!Tim AU. masterpost here]
~
Bruce returns to the Unseelie Queen. He steps through the fae circle with the trusty protections of salt and iron. It is quite unlike Batman to use tools that are so low-tech, but he will not deny the efficacy of that which has protected humankind from the fae for thousands of years.
“Unseelie Queen!” Bruce shouts. Last time the forest of mushrooms simply melted into a clearing where he placed his protections and conducted his business. Today, the poisonously red caps simply grow and grow until the mushrooms tower over him.
The smell of organic matter decaying and a swirl of turquoise leaves. She arrives in her usual fashion. Ten feet tall and dressed in a gown of rushing rivers and starlit nights. A gray face and the smile of nightmares. The Unseelie Queen attempts of human beauty and misses in a manner so violently unsettling, so uncanny-valley-upsetting, that even Batman feels fear.
“I have come to make a new deal.” Bruce shows no fear. Rule number one.
“Oh?” The Unseelie Queen bends down until her back splits in four places and they are eye to eye. Screams dance madly in her silver-violet-smoke black eyes until Bruce drops his gaze to her chin. “Do you wish for me to take back my gift?”
Not Jason. It is love that pangs around Bruce’s heart, love that morphs into fear when she threatens Jason’s life out of curiosity. 
“You overreached,” Bruce accuses. He will not acknowledge her threat. Rule number two: admit to no emotion but rage. “You made a deal with Tim for humanity. If he fails, he leaves.”
This is once again educated guesswork on Bruce’s part. He’s still not sure what the Unseelie Queen is getting out of all of this. But Tim clearly wants to stay in the human realm. How else to punish him but to make him leave? 
“If he leaves, you’ve failed your bargain with me,” Bruce continues. 
The Unseelie Queen gnashes row after row of teeth to dust until her frustration works itself out. “You cannot make a deal on his behalf.”
“And you can?”
Bruce’s bargain with her depended, from the very beginning, on her right to bargain Tim away. He had believed, when she first handed Tim over, that Tim was a subject of the fae, a member of the Unseelie Court, and therefore hers to do what she liked with. A loyal subject. A spy meant to serve as the Unseelie Queen’s hand in a realm she could not otherwise reach. 
But Tim delights in the cuisine explorations Dick and Jason take him to. He soaks up Barbara’s computer crash courses, which is quite unusual for a fae; they are notoriously tech-averse. He yearns to be human. If there is any chance that Tim truly wants to turn away from the Unseelie Queen, then it is the morally right thing to do to keep him away from her. Batman has offered hand after hand to the most irredeemable villains; what is one more to a strange little creature who may still be a child by the standards of the fae? 
Moreover, it is in Bruce’s and his family’s own best interest to expedite Tim’s process of becoming human. If Tim’s deal with the Unseelie Queen doesn’t work, he may attempt to become human by eating one, or by stealing the skin of one, or whatever else a fae’s mind might think up. Suppose, even, that the Unseelie Queen has no jurisdiction over the humanity of her subjects. It made sense to Bruce that she could de-fae whoever displeased her, but he knows now that she makes promises vastly out of her reach. Perhaps she has no humanity to offer Tim. Then it is still in Bruce’s best interest to keep Tim away from her and teach him the morality of humans. 
“Very well.” The whistling shriek of wind in the trees escapes the Unseelie Queen’s nostrils. “What is your proposal?”
“I keep Jason, no strings attached.” Bruce doesn’t need Jason one slip-up away from dying again. “I keep Tim. If he fails his bargain with you–”
“Do you love him?” 
Bruce, caught flat-footed, adheres to rule number two.
The Unseelie Queen cycles through a magnificent number of eldritch recreations of faces, yet maintains the air of leering. “Do. You. Love. Him.”
Rule number three: do not lie to the fae.
“No.”
Another hiss akin to howling wind issues from the Unseelie Queen in fits and spurts. Not until she calms does Bruce realize she was laughing.
“He may be your responsibility now,” the Unseelie Queen concedes, “but he will always be mine before he is yours. You may keep Jason. But if dearest Timothy fails, he will return to me.”
Now it is Bruce’s turn to gnash his teeth. But he follows rule number one and hides it behind the stiff line of his cowl. “Three-fourths,” he suggests finally. “He’s done that much. Cancel the bargain you have with him right now and take one fourth. You’ll have him in the summers. I’ll take him the rest of the year. And I keep Jason.”
He waits patiently as an awful cacophony of bird calls, the clicking of beetles, and all the untempered rage of nature arises to spite him. The Unseelie Queen sways, collapsing into an eight-legged beast rampaging around the mushroom forest one second, then whirling into the purple sky the next. A tempest. A temper tantrum. The Unseelie Queen throws a hissy fit when she realizes that she cannot get away with her double-bargaining this time. That because of her habit of trying to have her cake and eat it too, her favorite toy is at risk of slipping away. Bruce always offers second chances, but in this instance he finds himself entirely out of sympathy.
“Fine,” the Unseelie Queen hisses once she finishes throwing a tantrum. “I accept.”
Bruce does not love Tim. Tim is not his son. He acts on moral imperatives. His heart opens glacially slow. If they had more time, perhaps Bruce would come to love Tim and see him as one of his kids. Perhaps he would not have had to fight the Unseelie Queen for 75% of Tim’s life. But the summer is escaping, and Bruce knows when compromises must be made even if he detests them.
Now he just has to tell Tim.
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sillygooseassociation · 2 years ago
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Messy
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Requests: Heyyyyy, could you write ted lasso x reader where reader likes ted, and she vents about it with rebecca or keeley and ted listens to it but thinks it’s for somebody else, not him? I’m so sorry for my English, and thank you very much! /// hiiii could you write ted x reader where reader gets jealous of ted with sassy (like reader has a crush on ted but never told anyone about it) and reader is younger than him and thinks that maybe nothing will happen between them?? the drama of it all lol, okay thank you byeee
Description: When you and Ted both eavesdrop on conversations of the other, miscommunication occurs that leads to tears, laughter, and confessions.
Warnings: lots of angst, idk, kinda mentions of divorce
Pairing: Ted Lasso x reader
Word Count: 4.3k
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You drop the stack of files on the desk outside Rebecca’s office, pulling a highlighter out of your pocket, needing to mark one more line that you noticed was missed on the walk from your room. Biting the cap off, you hold the plastic in between your teeth as you trace the line on the paper, pausing to listen when you overhear voices from the office. “Now boss, you know I wouldn’t keep anything from you, it's just not in my nature. But a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, and that includes the person that signs my checks.”
Initially, you chuckle at Ted’s mannerisms - even after two years in England, he hadn’t lost that endearing midwest charm. However, your laughter falls flat when you realize the implications of his words, who did he kiss and how did Rebecca know to ask? You weren’t one to eavesdrop, you knew it was rude and you would never want to invade someone’s privacy, especially not the privacy of your two bosses. However, all logic seemed to go out the window when imagining the American gaffer kissing someone. 
“Oh Ted please, we’re both adults, we’ve both been married, we’ve both been through heartbreak, so please tell me, what do you think of Sassy?” Sassy? Why did you recognize that name? Well, if you could even consider that a name. You cap the highlighter, returning the writing utensil to your pocket before listening back in, “Why she’s just fine and dandy, nicer than the whole French city.” 
Discarding your previous plan of handing the files directly to Rebecca, you instead write her a message on a sticky note and place it on top of the stack, leaving said stack on the desk. As you leave, you hear one more pressing question from Rebecca, “Oh Ted, please speak plainly for once and tell me what you think.” As you head back to your office, you can’t help but wish you were on Ted’s mind as much as he is on yours.
As you sit at your desk, you can’t help but think about Ted and Rebecca’s conversation, how did Ted meet Sassy? And where in the world do you know this name from? It feels like Ted spends all his time devoted to the team, how could he even have the opportunity to meet someone? He eats every meal at Crown and Anchor with Beard, and oftentimes you, that doesn’t give him much of an opportunity to meet a woman at the pub. The rest of his life is spent at his flat or Nelson Road, at least that’s how he made it seem when you all talked about your lives outside of work.
The Liverpool match took up so much of his attention, and it paid off if the game was to be used as evidence. Liverpool! That’s why you know the name Sassy! She was Rebecca’s mate who you met briefly after the game, Keeley was practically attached to her hip. Of course, it had to be Sassy, you couldn’t even go talk to your best friend about how you were feeling, she was practically in love with your competition.
Not that Sassy could even consider you as competition, Ted hardly knew you existed, well, on a romantic level at least. Working as Richmond’s physical therapist, you often made decisions hand in hand with Ted. It was not something you had experienced before with coaches at the previous amateur teams you worked with, they just did what they wanted and left you to pick up the pieces of their sore players. Ted, on the other hand, wanted you right there as he created plays and decided which players should fill which roles, he wanted to make the decisions that were best for the team’s success but also best for the safety and health of his players.
You considered Ted a close friend and you liked to think he thought the same of you, but that’s all it would ever be in his eyes. You were about twenty years his junior, after all, he was far in his career and a wonderful dad, and he had been married before. You, on the other hand, were just starting off, Richmond was your first role as head therapist, many still saw you as a kid even in your mid-20s, and your longest relationship had only lasted a year before your ex decided you were “too much” for him. 
To the rest of the world, you were at two stages in your life, how could that ever even work? But in your mind, none of that truly mattered. Different stages in your career didn’t really mean anything, you loved kids and were getting to the point of wanting to start your own family. But at the end of the day, you were inexperienced, you had run off every partner you ever had because of how “needy” you were. You were young. Too young. So you would love Ted from afar, laughing at pop culture references that no one else but Beard understood, nodding in agreement at his motivational speeches to the boys, and admiring the way he put his entire self into everything that he did.
Noticing the time, you realize you would be running late for the pre-training meeting if you didn’t get a move on. You grab your copy of the playbook, checking the pockets of your athletic leggings for your signature highlighter and red pen. You head down the hallway to the locker room, passing through the gym when you hear low voices, looking over to notice the window shared with the coaches’ office was open. “Well, are you going to ask her out, Coach?” 
Your eyes widen, walking far enough into the room where you are hidden from the view through the window, deciding to again selfishly listen in, “That’s the thing Coach, I would love that. But I’m me and she’s… well, she’s her. I tell the boys to not be judgmental, but I can’t help but judge myself for having these feelings.” You sigh softly as you shake your head, you hated that Ted thought this way about himself. Any woman would be lucky to have Ted, even if that woman was Sassy and not you. “Ah fuckin’ ‘ell Lasso, you would tell any of those muppets in there to go for what they wanted, why shouldn’t you get to do the same thing?” 
You clear your throat quietly, pushing down tears as they well in your eyes, rounding the corner to make yourself known before you have to hear Ted talk about Sassy even more, “Hey team!” Three men in the room jump slightly, startled by your appearance while Roy remains still, not being surprised by anything apparently. Ted runs his hand through his hair, seeming to be frazzled, “Well what do you know, Ms. Sheryl Crow, how’re you Y/N?”
A laugh leaves your mouth though it is much quieter than your normal response to Ted’s humor, something you hope goes unnoticed by the rest of the room. “Oh, I’m okay, just life as normal.” Giving a tight-lipped and forced smile, you thank every god above as Nate asks a question, a stupid one at that, which switches the conversation off of you. Roy lets out a groan and disgruntled mutter about Nate, an offhanded comment that brings out a laugh, hoping your smile dispels any suspicions anyone had about you and your short response to the earlier question. And for the most part, it does, no one in the room is any the wiser about how you are truly feeling, no one, that is, but Ted, whose concerned eyes never leave you.
By the time training was done, you felt emotionally exhausted. After hours of canned laughter, forced smiles, and repressed tears, you just wanted to go home. But nope, it was then a couple of hours in the clinic working on the players. Thankfully with a more hands-on task, the time passed quicker than it did during training. Back in your office, you pack up your backpack before hearing a knock, looking up to find Keeley at the door with her signature smile. “Babes! You’re not answering your texts!” You turn on your phone as it sits on your desk, realizing you have numerous texts from her as well as other contacts, “Shit, sorry Keels, I’m just out of it today.”
Keeley’s smile falls, clearly able to tell that you are not your normal cheery self, “What’s up? Why are you so frowny?” You attempt to give her a smile but before she can even call you on your bullshit, your tears can no longer be held back. “Oh, babes!” She walks you over to the couch in your office, and sits you down, passing you a tissue from the box on your coffee table, “What is going on? Does Roy need to beat some prick up?” You laugh lightly as you wipe away your tears though your effort is for nothing, more tears just falling in their absence, “N-no, it's okay. I don’t want to bother you.”
Your friend looks at you with wide eyes, “Are you absolutely mental? Something that is bugging you like this is never going to be a bother.” You shrug slightly, looking at your lap in embarrassment, “I know I’m not your only friend though, and I don’t want to be an arse and talk shit about someone you like.” Keeley pulls you closer, rubbing your arm in a comforting manner, “You’re right, I do have other friends. But none like you, you’re my best mate. Now tell me what’s going on.” 
Taking a deep breath, you tell Keeley what you overheard earlier in the day, both from Rebecca’s office and the coaches’ office. She nods along as you speak, paying close attention until you let out a sigh after finishing your story, “Well, I haven’t talked to Rebecca today, so I don’t know what Ted said. But I do know that Sassy left to find Ted the other night in Liverpool and then came back like, ten minutes later.” You shake your head as you wipe away your last tears, “But that doesn’t mean anything Keeley. They still kissed. It's not like I had a chance with Ted anyway but now I really don’t, he has real feelings for her!” Admitting out loud what you had been ruing all day, you begin to cry again, sobbing softly at how stupid you felt. 
Approaching your office door, Ted ran through his script in his mind. He wanted to check on you but he also didn’t want to cross any boundaries. Sure, you were friends, really good friends he would say, but you also technically work for him and you’re a beautiful young woman. He would never want to make you uncomfortable. Which is why he came up with what to ask you, wanting to be careful to avoid stepping over the line. 
However, his script was immediately forgotten as he reached your ajar door, hearing your cries from behind. His brows furrowed, terrified that you were hurt, either physically or emotionally, and determined to help however he could. But before he could push the door open more, he heard someone quietly shushing you, someone he soon recognized to be Keeley. He paused, relieved to know that you weren’t alone while feeling this way. He weighed his decisions, popping his head in to offer his aid and support or leave you two ladies be. But before he could decide, he hears your soft voice from the other side of the door, “There’s no reason he would want to be with me, I know that. He’s absolutely perfect, he would never want an idiot kid like me when he could get someone like her. Even though I always knew that I just feel so broken now that it actually happened.”
Ted backed away from the door, slowly walking to Nelson Road’s exit and making his way home, sending a quick text to Beard to apologize for not being able to make it to beers that night. As he walked on the cobblestone path, he couldn’t help but feel his heart hurt, how could you think that way about yourself? You were one of the most amazing people Ted had ever met. You were incredibly intelligent and ridiculously gorgeous; you appreciated all of his humor and had compassion that rivaled that of the virgin Mary. Hell, all of this and more is why he fell for you. But of course, you had your eyes set on someone else. It only makes sense. You were still young, you had so much of your life ahead of you, and he was a tied-down old man with a kid. Let’s be honest, your job was literally to touch and massage some of the most athletic people in the world, why would you want to be with him?
Even though he was feeling a bit torn up at confirmation that his feelings were unrequited, he felt most sad about how you talked about yourself. No one deserved to feel unworthy of love, but you especially didn’t deserve that. You always made sure everyone in your life was supported and had all they needed, it was one of the first things he noticed about you. When he was putting together birthday celebrations for Sam during his first week, you were already making a grocery list of cake supplies before Ted even came to you with his idea. You had a calendar with all of the players’ birthdays sitting on your smaller desk, working as an assistant physical therapist at the time, and knew that Sam’s was coming up. On your small salary and in your unappreciated position, you wanted to make sure the birthday boy didn’t go unrecognized. If you could offer that love to everyone in your life, even those that annoyed you like Nate, you deserved to have someone show you that same love, if not an even greater love.
After a talk with Keeley that was full of hugs, tears, and dirty jokes (mostly from her), you made your way home, deciding to have a quiet night filled with ice cream and Nancy Meyers films. Keeley offered to join you though you quickly brushed her off, sending her to have a conversation with Roy after she told you about their kiss over the weekend that ended with him running off like a fucking twat. Pulling your fuzzy blanket over your crossed legs, you pulled the ice cream carton from its spot on your coffee table and into your lap, pressing play on The Holiday. You roll your eyes at Jude Law’s flirting, what bullshit. A man with an accent foreign to the woman, a man with a young child mind you, was gonna get the girl, and that girl was gonna get her happy ending. Fucking Hollywood lies.
Your internal screaming fit at the television was interrupted by a knock on the door. You groan, putting the frozen tub back on the coffee table, wrapping your blanket around you as you walk to the door in your pajamas, “Right as I got fucking comfortable.” You open the door, planning to rudely take your anger out on the person likely meaning to knock on your neighbor’s door, but instead, you find your favorite American standing there, hands in his pockets as he nervously makes eye contact with you, “Ted?” He takes a hand out, giving you a small wave, “W-what are you doing here?” He ponders your question before looking around, seeming to remember he’s still in the hallway of your flat building, “Can I come in?” 
Nodding, you open the door wider to allow him in, closing it behind him before you walk over to the living room, grabbing your ice cream container and then making the short walk to your kitchen to put it in the freezer. “I love the soundtrack for this one.” Walking back into the living room, you offer Ted a confused look before noticing him point to your film selection, “Oh yeah. It’s a great one, even if the plot is unrealistic bullshit.” Ted’s eyes widen as you cross the room to the couch, sit down and turn off the television. Sure, you cuss occasionally, but never in such an intense and negative tone. He apprehensively sits on the other side of the couch, turning to see you looking at him expectantly, “Why are you here, Ted?”
Ted clears his throat, his mind suddenly blank. He had practiced exactly what to say to you on the way over, how to gracefully tell you that he accidentally eavesdropped while also telling you that anyone would be lucky to have you but keeping his feelings a secret. He had figured it all out but the moment he saw you, he lost it all. He could only focus on you. “Oh, um well, I was worried about you. This morning, you weren’t exactly yourself and I wanted to check in.” 
You show a small smile at his compassion, of course, he noticed that something was wrong and of course, that meant he then took the time out of his evening to come and check on you. This man was practically perfect, and yet he wasn’t yours, “Yeah, I mean, it was just a rough morning. Got some bad news before training, that’s all. Ted, it's nice and all that you came over to check on me, but you really didn’t have to change your evening plans to do that.” Ted nods in response, looking down as he plays a bit with his fingers, he knows he didn’t have to, he wanted to though, “I know that. Truthfully, I stopped by your office earlier to check on you but you already had company.
Cocking your head to the side, you look at him confused, you had no clue what he was referring to. No one had been in your office that day, no one but you and, oh god, “Shit.” You stand up, beginning to pace around the room with anxiety. Of course, your luck worked out like this. You cried at work about being in love with your boss and he overheard, of course, because why wouldn’t that happen? He was there to fire you, to let you down easily both about your feelings and your job. “Shit, Ted, I’m sorry. I-I promise, this won’t get in the way of my job. I love Richmond and I love the team, please, I would never want to put that in jeopardy.”
Looking confused out of his mind, Ted stands up and steps in front of you, stopping your pacing, “Woah, Y/N, I’m not firing you. Honestly, I don’t even know if I have the power to do that, I like to leave all that stuff up to Mrs. Big Boss. But, even if I did, why would I fire you over being sad that someone you like turned you down? Now, I thought you would know me better than to think I would do something like that.” You look up with wide eyes, he didn’t know, he didn’t know the ‘someone’ was him. “Oh no, um, I know that Ted, sorry. I just, I thought it was something else.”
Thankfully he lets you off without further explanation, though he was still incredibly lost, what else could it have been that you would think would be worthy of him firing you? You return to your spot on the couch, expecting him to follow you except it was now his turn to anxiously pace. “Now, one time in middle school, we had a dance unit and were taught different kinds of dances like line dancing and square dancing. They also taught us disco and I was just absolutely horrible, could not get it down no matter how many times I watched Saturday Night Fever. I bring this up because I don’t want that again, I want to avoid bad vibes as much as I can.” You nod, holding in a laugh at his story, not wanting to interrupt whatever he was working up to say, “I overheard what you said to Ms. Keeley and I just want you to know, Y/N, it is not true at all.”
Your breath catches in your throat, what did he just say? “Now, I don’t know who this guy is but he must be darn stupid if he’s letting you get away. But ya know what, forget him. You don’t need him. You are just perfect on your own. You are not an idiot and you’re not a kid, which I’m pretty sure means you scientifically can’t be an idiot kid. I know I’m just an old man saying all this and it probably doesn’t matter but just…Hell, I’ve been out of the dating scene for a long time and I’m still not entirely in it, I’m as single as a batter running only to first base. None of this probably means anything to you, but I hope you believe me because you are one special woman, Y/N.”
You were speechless, Ted just said everything you ever wanted to hear and yet you could only focus on one part, “What about Sassy?” Having turned himself away from you in his nervous pacing during his monologue, Ted turns to face you with a wild expression on his face, “What’re you on about?” You look down at your hands, shrugging as you wonder if you can get yourself out of the situation, “Just, this morning, before training, I overheard you talking to Rebecca and she asked you about Sassy. You said you don’t kiss and tell…” You trail off, not wanting to finish your sentence one because you hadn’t stayed around long enough to hear Ted’s response beyond that, but also because you were worried about what that answer was. “Before training? Was this before or after you got your bad news?” 
Fuck, he was figuring it out.
Sighing, Ted walks over to the couch, sitting closer to you this time, your knees almost close enough to touch but still leaving a distance between the two of you, “Y/N, Sassy found me this weekend after the match and kissed me,” you nod sadly in response, looking away as you hope he can’t see the tears beginning to roll down your face, “but I pulled away so I could tell her I was interested in someone else.” Why was he telling you this? He’s not interested in Sassy, so what? Not like the specific person matters to you, it hurt just the same. Ted sighs again, sliding just close enough that your knees bump each other, “Honey, please look at me.”
You turn to meet Ted’s eyes, his expression falling when he sees the tears running down both cheeks. He raises a hand, gently brushing the tears away, “Why are you crying?” You shake your head which then shakes his hand off, bringing your palm up to wipe away your tears, “’s stupid.” Ted tuts at you, “It’s not stupid if it’s got you worked up like this.” 
Well, you’re already crying in front of Ted and are too embarrassed to ever show your face at work again, hopefully, Rebecca will accept an emailed letter of resignation and still be willing to be a reference, “It’s you.” Ted’s heart drops, he made you cry like this? Should he have not said any of those things? Did he say something wrong? He should have never come over, he just knew it, stupid Ted, always messing things up, “I-I made you cry?” You shake your head again, still not meeting his eyes, “No, well, kinda. Ted, it’s you, you’re the guy. I was talking to Keeley about you.” 
Ted lets out a chuckle, unable to keep it in. What the fuck, you basically just told this man, your boss that you’re in love with him and he has the audacity to laugh? Before you can ask what the hell is wrong with him, his voice interrupts his laughter, “Well, this is perfect.” You lift your eyes to meet his, seeing a bright smile across his face, how can he possibly be smiling right now? Seeing the confusion on your face, Ted places his hand on your knee, “You’re the ‘someone else’, Y/N. I told Sassy I’m not interested in her because I have feelings for you.” 
The world stopped. Well, it didn’t, it still moved on its axis while also moving around the sun but for you, the world stopped. The world stopped as your world sat in front of you, telling you that he felt the same. “What?” You were struck with disbelief, how could Ted feel the same? He was a successful coach and the best father in the world and you were merely a member of his team who can only barely rent a car legally. Ted nods, his smile seeming to grow even though you didn’t think that was possible from how wide it had been, “Yeah darling, it’s you.” 
Your smile matches his as you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his wrap around your waist, it was perfect, it was natural. Though you wish you could spend the rest of the time like that, you pull away, your faces close enough that he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “Are we really doing this?” Ted smiles softly at you, sensing your euphoric feeling of disbelief because he was experiencing it too, “I think we are.” 
You let out an excited squeal, pulling him in for a kiss. It was messy, far too much teeth from you both still smiling and your dried tears seemed to stick to his skin but it didn’t matter. It was messy but it was perfect, just like the two of you.
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emeraldenha · 2 years ago
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SAY MY NAME.
pairing: han yujin x gn!reader | genre: high school au, opposites attract trope, fluff | w/c: +3.9k words | warnings: nothing but fluff <3
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for years han yujin has been harboring a crush on his childhood friend
from the day he first met them as seat mates in middle school to the day they moved away to now, those gradually blossoming feelings have never wilted out like the dying flowers he thought they’d become
transitioning to high school was tough without them, but when he finally learnt to open up to others, he thrived
he made new friends, became more popular among his classmates, all while still being the cute and shy boy he’d always been
though in the back of his mind, he’d be up at night wondering if he’d ever run into his childhood friend again
maybe it was wishful thinking, but he missed having someone in his life who he saw so much of himself in
someone with similar interests, quirks, and heart
a person that’s… the complete opposite of you
ever since he first saw you walk into the classroom with your nose held high in your textbooks, the cold and studious first impression has yet to wash away
you didn’t answer to anyone unless it was school related, not a care in the world about what people thought of you
yujin could never relate to that
your only goal was to be the top student, and secondary to that was anything else that’d make a pretty addition to your résumé
the day your two paths crossed was on your first day as second years
that morning, yujin was talking to his best friend, park gunwook, in the hallway
“yujin, did you hear we’re getting a new transfer student?”
the boy shakes his head
“hopefully they’re nice. I’ll probably have to show them around, help them adjust, all that stuff,” gunwook continues, which spirals into a ramble of all the responsibilities he’ll have when he’s inevitably re-elected as class president
yujin just hums in agreement, twisting the cap off his plastic water bottle and taking a sip
the two eventually reach their classroom
and sitting in one of the seats is a face he’d recognize anywhere
it’s none other than his childhood friend… they’re back
he chokes on his water and bursts into a fit of coughs that draws everyone’s attention, including their’s
the new transfer student is his childhood friend… how is he supposed to approach them, speak to them, act around them…
he gets so flustered that he turns around to leave and run out of the room
not noticing you were already walking in through the propped open door with your eyes down in the midst of reading a book
one thing leads to another, and before yujin can prevent himself from the mess he’s about to cause, his hand is already squeezing around the open water bottle out of shock and water splashes onto your uniform and the fresh pages of your book
you’re scarily still for the first few seconds, so much that yujin feels a chill run down his spine
it’s like his life just flashed before his eyes
“are you serious?” you say through gritted teeth, your glare burning into his skull like flames
yujin doesn’t have the guts to say anything, which only makes you more aggravated
you take a step forward and open your mouth to chew him out but gunwook wedges himself between the two of you
“come on, y/n, don’t be too harsh on him. he didn’t mean for this to happen,” gunwook says, trying to remedy the situation
you’re not pleased by that in the slightest
gunwook quickly takes off his blazer and hands it out to you as a peace offering
but you only scoff at it and shake your head. “I don’t need your help, park.”
you push him out of the way and stand face to face with yujin
“don’t you owe me an apology?”
he hesitates for a moment, still in panic mode, but you shut him down before he can even get a word in
“forget it. you’re not worth my time.”
tossing the damp book into the trash can, you storm out of the classroom and not once do you look back
and yujin thinks to himself, from that day on, he’ll avoid you at all costs
in the months following the incident, yujin does just that
if he sees you, he’ll walk in the opposite direction
if you so much as turn your head his way, he’ll steer clear of all eye contact
instead, he concentrates on mustering up the courage to confess to his long term crush, his reunited friend from his middle school years
though in all honesty, a lot has changed even in the short time they’ve been gone
they haven’t exactly reconnected like he anticipated, but it’s not like they’re total strangers either
he understands that they’re no longer in the same social circles, no longer attached to the hip, no longer conversing over the same talking points like they used to
but he still wants to give himself a chance to confess before it’s too late
with both the help and motivation from gunwook, yujin comes up with the perfect plan
he retrieves a carton of chocolate milk—their favorite—from the cafeteria and writes a note in the pink origami heart he learned how to make the night prior
meet me by the field after school! -h.yj
time feels painfully longer when having to wait for it to pass
yujin rocks his heels back and forth on the ground, checking the notifications on his phone that he’s already been scrolling through for the past five minutes
he wanted to be the one to arrive at the field first, but his nerves were only amplifying in an echo chamber of anxiety
“what do you want?”
he jumps from the abruptness of your voice but gets even more surprised when he realizes it’s you
he lets out an awkward cough and quietly says, “oh, sorry, I’m waiting for someone.”
you pull out the unfolded origami heart from your pocket
“so this wasn’t you?”
yujin does a double take, eyes widening as his mistake was staring at him straight in the face
he had somehow set the chocolate milk and the note on the wrong desk
“no, it was me. you’re the one I was waiting for,” he lies, attempting to make it seem as if he was joking earlier
he has to hold himself back from grimacing
why was it always so hard for him to own up to his feelings? shout out to the world that he has a crush and is currently messing that up?
you quirk an eyebrow. “what is it then?”
yujin falls silent and he can already tell your patience is running thin
he doesn’t know how to respond, other than with the truth, and blurts out the first excuse that comes to mind as you say
“look, I’m not interested—”
“can you tutor me?”
“you want me to tutor you?” you repeat
“yes, of course, you’re the smartest one in our class.”
“what subject?”
“umm… everything?”
“are you seriously failing all your classes?”
“yes…?”
“why do you sound so unsure of yourself?”
yujin gulps. “it’s just a little embarrassing to admit, I guess.”
“well, I was planning to take a break from tutoring this year, but if you’re really in need of help, I can make an exception.” you pull out a business card from the front pocket of your bag. “this has all my contact information and tutoring rates. we can figure out whatever meeting times are convenient for the both of us later. sound good?”
he gives you a wordless nod of affirmation, and with that, his fate is sealed
you turn around to leave
however, unlike the last encounter, you look back
“hey, what’s your name again?”
“yujin, han yujin,” he nearly stutters out his own name
you curtly nod, walking away while quietly mumbling his name as a reminder to remember it
yujin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, wonder what he just got himself into
the first meet is on a monday at the library after school
to put it shortly, it’s a disaster
“weren’t you the one that asked me to tutor you? I wouldn’t have agreed if I knew you’d get this distracted.”
yujin couldn’t focus in the slightest
he didn’t want to be there, which was unfortunate since he could’ve used this as an actual opportunity to boost up his class rank
yet he wanted to be living his life, putting off his studies until the last minute like he normally does
he tells himself to put up with all your complaints and scoldings just to appease you, but it only leads to him reaching his breaking point about a whopping three meetings later
“I lied.”
“great, now finish your practice questions.”
yujin grunts in a fit of frustration. “aren’t you curious as to what I lied about?”
“not really. you can tell me after you finish your practice questions.”
you won’t hear him out otherwise, so he does as told
you check the worksheet, marking all the incorrect answers before setting down your red pen and resting your chin in the palm of your hand with boredom
“I’m listening.”
“the note I gave you to meet me at the field that day… it was actually meant for someone else.”
“so you were planning to confess to someone.”
“yes,” yujin confirms before a wave of confusion hits his face. “wait, what? you knew?”
you shrug. “it was more of a heavy suspicion with the heart and the chocolate milk. but you were the one that asked for tutoring so I couldn’t say no to a client.”
“but you practically knew I was lying! I thought you hated people wasting your time.”
“I do. it’s what I hate more than anything. I only accepted because I need the money.” you stand up and begin to pack your belongings. “now that everything’s all cleared up, we can go our separate ways, right?”
“no!” yujin shouts, garnering weird looks from everyone in the library
feeling embarrassed with all the eyes drawn to you, you decide to leave anyways
and yujin finds himself chasing after you
at first, there’s not much rhyme or reason as to why, just a lingering ambiguity of regret and general instinct
though as he catches up to you towards the front of the school, he starts to piece together what it is that he’s feeling
the thing about yujin is that he never goes out of his way to make things right
if he makes a mistake, then he’ll ignore the entire situation all together until the remorse and responsibility fade away
that’s what he’s always been doing with you, cowardly entering and exiting your personal space without permission and then having nothing to make up for it
he yells for you to wait up, but you don’t stop in your tracks until he runs faster and blocks your path
you roll your eyes. “what?”
yujin catches his breath. “look, I’m sorry for being a nuisance. I want to apologize by working harder. I’ll pay more attention this time and get my grades up.”
“you don’t have to pity me. I’ll still survive with or without the tutoring money.”
“I’m not pitying you! I know I didn’t come into this with the best intentions, but I’ll make your time worth it, I promise.”
to you, his words may not bear much weight, but you decide to give him one last chance. if things started going south, then hopefully he’d get the hint and you could drop him for good
“we start again the day after tomorrow. don’t be late.”
while your doubt initially overtook any faith you had in the boy, yujin turns out to be better than you thought he was
you figure out he’s not failing all his classes like he had exaggeratedly claimed before
he’s more of a decent student that could use a good push, and once you help him tap into his potential, yujin actually begins to see an improvement in his grades
little by little, you even find other aspects of your life seeping into his too
such as eating lunch together
it wasn’t a daily must, but yujin felt bad constantly seeing you eat lunch by yourself, despite your protests of enjoying the solitude
it started with him calling you over to ask questions on the class material, and then slowly evolved into him inviting you over with no particular reason at all
as his best friend, gunwook would be there as well
“park.”
“hello to you too, l/n.”
yujin can’t help but snort, eating his lunch in amusement. “you guys are still so formal with each other.”
“competition is competition. I’m going to outrank you someday, l/n,” gunwook declares with a playful smirk
you only rest your head on the desk, using your arms as a cushion
“try me, park. try me.”
“you’re not going to eat?” yujin points out
“forgot to bring anything. was too tired from work last night.”
yujin takes a snack from his lunch bag and taps your arm with it before placing it on the desk
reluctantly, you accept the offering
“how do you do it?” gunwook queries. “my parents don’t allow me to have a part-time job, because they want my main priority to be school and the debate team.”
you sigh. “I work hard because if I don’t, then what else do I have? making friends and going out doing nonsense is for the people who have the time and money to afford it.”
albeit a bit hurt, yujin appears more puzzled than disappointed by your answer
“doing nonsense? you mean having fun?”
you continue on explaining, ignoring his comment, “I used to do my regular tutoring schedule and my part-time job last year, but it became too exhausting. some students are just a piece of work.”
“except me, right?”
you give him a small nod, lips curling upward just a fraction, but even that makes yujin’s heart skip a beat. “thankfully, you’re one of the better ones.”
for the majority of the lunch period, gunwook’s the one to actually keep you entertained, the two of you casually engaging in an academic conversation that has yujin lost in his own thoughts
“but seriously, y/n, you need to relax sometimes. you’ll get burnt out if you keep going like this,” gunwook says, tapping below his eye to refer to your dark circles
yujin begins to notice just how tired you are, the layers of fatigue sewn into your skin
and it’s in that moment a lightbulb goes off in his head
“oh, I have a good idea! y/n, can we cancel our tutoring session later today?”
“no,” you instantly shut him down, resulting in him childishly sulking
“can we do something after then? it’ll be a surprise!”
‘I hate surprises’ is what you want to say, but his pleading eyes oddly have an effect on you
and that’s how he lures you into a rare afternoon detour
“an arcade?”
“yeah!” he cheers, then studies your wary reaction. “you’ve never been?”
you give him a pointed look. “what do you think the answer to that question is?”
yujin pouts, rambling on and on about how he knew this wasn’t exactly your scene but was still baffled to the fact you’ve never stepped foot into an arcade in your life
he brings this up when you majorly lose to him in air hockey, dance dance revolution, and every game under the sun
your reflexes are some of the worse he’s ever seen
however, you still let him explain the rules each time and don’t get upset when you crash and burn, so he appreciates your efforts to try and understand the experience
then lastly, he guides you towards the line of claw machines, peering at the prizes inside each one
he asks if there’s anything you’re interested in, but you just let him choose
he goes with one filled with pastel colored stuff animals, aiming for a baby blue bunny that he ends up completely missing
“do you want to give it a try?” he asks but inserts the cash and ushers you forward before you’ve even decided yet
toying with the buttons experimentally, you give it your best shot
“ah, that was so close!” yujin’s hands shoot up to weave through his hair as you almost had it
“stupid machine,” you mutter, kicking the bottom of it with your sneaker. “aren’t these things just money suckers? what’s so fun about them?”
“you’re just saying that because you didn’t win.”
“oh, I’ll win,” you say with determination, your competitive side finally taking over
yujin goes around analyzing the side angles and directing you where to move the claw, and while you don’t verbal respond, he can see by the claw movements that you’re listening to him
once it’s aligned to your liking, you watch as it drops and barely latches onto the bunny’s ear, miraculously holding on enough to release it right into the prize box in the corner
yujin audibly celebrates the success more than you do, but there’s prominent sense of accomplishment you throughly enjoy
you retrieve the stuffed bunny and shove it in his hand. “here.”
he tries to give it back but you stubbornly refuse to take it from him
“don’t you want to keep it? you won it, after all,” he says
“I don’t really care for stuffed animals. it kind of looks like you though, so consider it yours. think of it as a gift for improving your test scores.”
he innocently holds the stuffed bunny up to his face. “it looks like me?”
you laugh, and yujin thinks it’s the most beautiful laugh he’s ever heard
you teasingly tilt your head and put a finger on your chin, an action so out of character that he’s almost memorized by it
“hmm… maybe the bunny’s a little cuter.”
a chuckle escapes from yujin’s lips and his eyes refuse to leave the ground
but when he looks back up again, he’s met by your warm and comforting expression, a side he’s never seen of you before
and while the moment passes and the day comes to an end, you’re the last thing on his mind that night and the first thing the next morning
then in the following weeks, thinking of you becomes routine
it makes him reflect on why he held onto his previous crush for so long, because you’re nothing like them yet the way he feels about you is stronger than anything he’s ever felt before
his entire life, yujin’s always been stuck in his comfort zone
and he thought that to like someone, the more things they have in common, the better
yujin thinks about how you both have opposite upbringings, opposite hobbies, opposite personalities, and how none of that really matters to him
in fact, it’s one of the main reasons he’s grown to like you so much
he likes letting you into his world, and his heart flutters when you let him into yours
whether it’s you telling him about your favorite books or the kind of music you listen to when you study, he wants to know it all
one day, he searches his room for the book he had bought all those months ago
it ignites a sense of nostalgia in him when he finds it, the memory now feeling so distant considering how far your relationship has developed since
though when he gifts it to you, he doesn’t quite get the reaction he’s expecting
“oh, thanks. how did you know I needed a new copy?”
yujin’s almost dumbfounded by the question
“because… I was the one that ruined the original… I got water all over it, remember? I actually bought the new one not too long after everything happened, but I was too scared to give it to you.”
“oh, that was you?” there’s a small glimpse of guilt in your eyes for not remembering. “sorry, I’ve never been good with names and faces.”
“but you remembered gunwook’s name back then. you called him park.”
“because he’s class president and a high ranking student. you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” you say half-jokingly
“are you only interested in people like gunwook?”
“well, I wouldn’t say that. I like you, don’t I?”
yujin’s face can’t help but glow a bright red
he knows you don’t mean it as a confession, though a part of him wishes he could’ve poured his heart out right then and there nonetheless
and that’s not the only instance where he gets that inclination
it’s the very thing that eats away at him until he finally plans to act on it
he waits until the end of the semester for final exams to be over so he doesn’t accidentally overwhelm or burden you while you’re already stressed out
“is it just me or am I getting déjà vu?” is the first thing you say when you meet him in the familiar location by the field
his stance is awkward, smile crooked, and his hands are stiffly hidden behind his back
there’s a brief pause in the air as he mentally prepares himself again and again with what he had practiced beforehand
firstly, an icebreaker
“so, what are you doing over break?”
you rack your brain for a second. “probably just picking up more shifts at work. nothing interesting.”
“I’ll be able to visit you though, right?”
“sure,” you say with an airy laugh at his eager tone, “I mean, we can just hang out whenever too, but I’m guessing that’s not what you brought me here to talk about.”
you’re about to confront him on his weird posture, but he abruptly beats you to the punch
“close your eyes and hold your hand out,” he instructs
“why?”
“just do it.”
yujin nervously places a small item in the center of your palm and covers it up by folding your fingers to form a fist around it
when he tells you to open your eyes again, you curiously unravel your fingers and look at it with a blank expression
“why are you giving me your name tag?”
“you really don’t know what it means?” yujin slowly asks, scratching the nape of his neck. “then it means nothing, sorry for bothering you!”
he tries to to end the conversation at that, but you hook a hand around his wrist to prevent him from walking away
“yujin,” you call out his name softly, “just be honest with me.”
he freezes, and it feels like an eternity has passed until—with a sudden splurge of confidence—he holds your hand that was originally on his wrist and takes a step closer to you
“when someone gives a person their name tag, it means that they like them.”
it’s right there he realizes he’ll remember this moment forever, because it’s the first time he’s ever made you speechless
he uses the hand not intertwined with yours to point at your cheeks
“y/n, are you blushing?”
you immediately swat his hand away. “no, I’m not.”
he stares at you patiently for a proper response to his confession, an annoying grin plastered on his face like he’s taunting the answer out of you
silently, you remove the name tag from your blazer and place it in his palm
“can I hear your answer aloud?”
that makes you snap your head up and gently push him by the shoulder. “hey, you technically didn’t say it outright either!”
yujin bursts out into laughter, but once the atmosphere becomes quiet again, it’s his turn to blush
“I like you, y/n. I really, really like you.”
you give his hand a light squeeze. “and I really, really like you too, han yujin.”
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diazheartsbuckley · 9 months ago
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I have such a weak spot for this one: Soldier!Eddie/ (frustratingly annoying)war correspondent!Buck
Any updates or snippets you can share? 🥺👉👈
Hi Hippo! 🩵
I’m sorry this fic has been pushed so far back in my mind because life has been a mess lately but let me offer you a little snippet 😚
The idea is here for those of you who don’t know about it. And check out the amazing cover that @ronordmann made 📸
Ask me about my wips 💌
More under cut ✂️
As Eddie’s superior officer, Captain Nash, delivered the news of the impending arrival of the war correspondent, Evan Buckley, Eddie gritted his teeth.
“Why do I have to talk to that guy? We all know what he’s after” Eddie said, the disdain and contempt that he holds for reporters clear in his words. In his eyes, they were nothing but vultures, just picking at and digging into the worst moments of people’s lives for a few minutes of spotlight.
“My friends haven’t been dead for-…” He turned his wrist, wanting to look at the time, only to be distracted by small dried out blood splatters across the clear glass. Eddie swallowed harshly, pushing down unshed tears. This morning, he was leading a team of four soldiers. Five if he included himself. Now all that was left, were him and Mills.
He cleared his throat, shaking his head and lifted his head to look at his Captain, an understanding but stoic smile plastered across his face. “They haven’t been dead for more than eight hours. Their bodies are barely even cold yet, Cap. Why now?”
“I get your reluctance, Diaz, but Buckley’s inquires can’t wait. He’s got friends amongst the higher ups and I’m just relaying the message to you” Captain Nash explained, arms folded across his chest. “And we have to provide him with the information that he’s seeking, no matter the timing of it”
Eddie’s jaw clenched, hands curling into fists at his sides. “With all due respect, Cap, their deaths are still pretty fresh in my mind. I’m not sure that I’m the right person to talk to a reporter right now. Why not take Mills?”
Captain Nash’s mouth curled into a straight line and Eddie instantly knew what that meant. “Right, of course he’s requested to talk to her too. Isn’t there anything we can do?” Eddie could feel the grief weighing heavily on him but his stance never wavered, willing to do almost everything to get out of talking to a fucking reporter.
Having worked with Captain Nash for years, Eddie could recognize that solemn smile from a mile away. “I’m afraid not but I hear you, Eddie. And your concerns are duly noted” Bobby replied, his tone reflecting a deep understanding of Eddie’s pain. They had both lost people before but he could tell that this was taking a toll on the younger man. “But orders are orders. We need to cooperate with Buckley’s investigation, even if it’s the last thing we want to do right now”
With a heavy sigh, Eddie unclenched his fists and nodded in acceptance. He brought his hand to his chest, fingertips carefully tracing the cold metal of his St. Christopher’s medallion. It made him think of his own family and it made him think of the families of his dead friends. PFC Norwahl had done nothing but rave about how excited he was to go home on leave in two weeks and finally meet his newborn daughter, even sharing pictures with the entire team who had shared their joy with him.
The weight of duty bore down upon Eddie, mingling with the grief that clung tightly to his heart, threatening to squeeze the life out of him. In the midst in all the loss and turmoil that the ambush had caused, Eddie knew that he had no choice but to face Evan Buckley, no matter much he wished that he could delay the inevitable.
Using this as my fuck it friday/inspiration saturday ✨
I was tagged by @tizniz @diazsdimples @cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 and @spotsandsocks 🌹
Tagging!! @watchyourbuck @wikiangela @jeeyuns @honestlydarkprincess @loserdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @wildlife4life @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @giddyupbuck @jesuisici33 @vampbuckley @athenagranted @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @whosoldherout @weewootruck @puppyboybuckley @poughkeepsies @rogerzsteven @underwater-ninja-13 @actualalligator @butraura @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @disasterbuckdiaz 🩵🦋
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