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duckmania127 · 2 years ago

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my breath of fresh air part 3

daryl dixon x reader

Howdy everyone:) if you get lost at all with any of the events happening in this chapter, they are based off of different scenes that went on during 7, 8, 9, and 10 of season three.

Either way I hope you enjoy and thank you again for all the love recently! I really appreciate it<3:))

breath of fresh air series

warnings: more twd violence than usual

summary: After 3 months of basically pining over each other and spending time being together, Daryl's gotta make a decision now that his brother is back.

After managing to get away from neighborhood where you both almost had encounter with some old "friends" you and Daryl were currently chilling in an abandoned cabin. “Sooo, are we going to look for some more pea cans any time soon?,” you suggested, trying to break the awkward tension in the room. Daryl sighed and looked over at you, “You plannin on telling me how you know them? Maybe then we can figure out what we’re doin here,” he tells you and crosses his arms, while he waits patiently for you to talk to him.

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before starting to make a very long story, short, “I had met them a few days before I met you. They took my stuff, beat me up, tried to kill me. When I got away, I tracked them down and went to look for my stuff. Winter was hard enough keeping supplies, so I really needed the shit they took. But, I had to kill 2 of their guys, beat up another. After I got away I bumped into a herd, and then I bumped into you.” You let out a deep breath when you saw that he nodded, feeling relieved that he believed you, “I didn’t think that they’d still be after me… I mean I just thought that they might've believed I didn't survive the herd," you pause when the realization hits you, “Oh shit, if they were after me, then they could’ve found the prison- I put you all at risk- i- in danger.”

As you feel your panic start to rise, you immediately felt his hands on you while they were holding onto your arms, rubbing his thumbs softly back and forth. He did this small action whenever you were starting to get nervous over anything, “hey, relax, if they showed up lookin for you, there’s no way in hell I’d let somethin happen to you. Got it? Everyone back home would fight for you too, you’re one of us. So just calm down alright?” He says softly, all while not breaking eye contact with you and even brushing some of your hair out of your face. The action making you blush and clear your throat, “right, yeah, yeah. Sorry,” you mumble and avoid looking at him.

He saw you trying to hide the redness displayed all over your face, “you cold? You’re all red, I can start a fire for ya if you want?” he asks while not being able to hide the smirk on his face. Your eyes are wide when you look up at him and realize that he’s teasing you. “Oh shut up, Dixon,” you say gently whacking him and rolling your eyes, “Next time I catch you staring at me, don't get all shy on me when I embarrass you.” You tell him and start walking into the kitchen in the cabin, “Pfft, I don't stare at ya,” he gruffly comments and starts scavenging around too. “Uh-huh, sureee!” you tell him and laugh.

He scoffs at you and hears something fall in the kitchen, he furrows his eyebrows and makes his way into the kitchen. Right before he is about to ask if you are okay, he looks up and he quickly raises his crossbow, aiming it directly at the man who is conveniently holding a knife to your neck. “You let ‘er go now!” he yells and you notice the panic settling in his eyes, as he tries to aim at the man’s head but the guy is trying to keep you from squirming, Daryl knows that he won't get a clean shot like this and he won’t risk the chance of hitting you instead.

“Nah man no can do! Ya see my guys are gonna be real happy I found her, she's gonna pay for killing Kenny and Al*. They'll be even more pleased especially after we just hit the jackpot on that Asian kid and his pretty girlfriend.” He boasts and smirks, pressing the knife a little harder against your throat. That's when your eyes widen at the detailed description, so you quickly step on the man's foot and quickly elbow him in the face as you move out of the way so that Daryl could put an arrow in him.

“Was he- was he just talking about Glenn and Maggie?” you ask as you try to catch your breath and wipe the blood starting to fall from your neck. Daryl immediately walks over to you and gently tilts your face to the side so he can see the cut, “you’re bleedin,” he mumbles and grabs his red rag to hold against your neck gently. You can tell that he looks worried, so you tell him that you're fine and it's just a little cut. He presses his lips together in a fine line and walks over to the dead guy’s body so he can take his arrow out from his head and also take the man’s knife and gun.

“Maggie and Glenn should be at the prison, they’re goin for that baby run tomorrow, can't be them.” He tells you and you just look over at him worriedly, “Daryl, what if we’re wrong? What if something happened and they had to go?” you tell him as your voice shakes, “Y/N, let’s just head back, if they ain’t there then we tell Rick and everyone else. And we’ll figure this shit out together alright?”

So that’s what you guys do, well you tell everyone after Daryl had found Carol and Rick started talking to Michonne. Everything was happening so fast, the days were blending into one another and it all felt like a blur. All of the fighting to get Maggie and Glenn back, then more fighting to get Daryl back which Rick made you stay behind with Glenn and Michonne since he needed you to keep them safe and he needed you to keep a clear head.

So there you were anxiously waiting for them to get back, eager to see Daryl again. That's when you hear and see Glenn jump up, calling out for Rick. You follow after him and Michonne, but are quickly shocked at the commotion starting to unravel in front of you. Glenn and Michonne are aiming their weapons at Merle, everyone's yelling while Rick and Daryl try to calm them down, and you stay back holding your gun to your side. You and Maggie exchanging nervous glances while everyone tries to settle down.

Of course, Merle had to open his big mouth and make a comment towards you, right after talking about Michonne and Andrea’s time together during the winter and talking shit to Rick, “Whooo, hooo! I mean, wow, Officer Friendly, you really do got a gang of thieves, crooks, and cowards. I've been lookin everywhere for you! How you doin baby? You miss me?” He says this to you and he even blows you a kiss. Earning your response and the raise of your gun, "Oh shut up you prick! You got what you deserved, you and your friends!" You yell at him and scoff when Daryl warns his brother to leave you alone. You lower your gun when Rick puts his hand out for you to relax and you do. Merle being Merle doesn't obviously shut up so he eventually gets knocked out by Rick's gun.

While Merle’s passed out momentarily, everyone else starts to talk about what to do with him, so you lean against the car with your arms crossed and stay quiet. That's when Daryl comes over, “I'm goin with him,” he tells you quietly and chews on his lip, waiting for your reaction, “What?” you ask and stand up straight looking at him, “He’s blood, I ain’t leavin him again, I can’t. You gotta understand.”

You stay quiet as you look at him. A part of you wants to be mad at him and tell him all the reasons why he shouldn't, you want to be selfish but you can't. So you just say, "You really don't have to do this," pausing to rest your hand on the side of his face and give him a weak smile, "But if it's what you want to do then go ahead, but you gotta know that you have family here too, even if we ain’t blood. Just… if something happens, you come home. Promise me that.” He just nods and gently squeezes your hand before letting go of it and he walks away to get his things from the trunk. As you glare at Merle, you end up just watching them both leave.

The ride back to prison is silent, you stare outside the window and try to calm down about Daryl’s well-being with his shitty ass brother. Once you arrive, you’re first to start heading inside. You’re upset obviously but as you get closer toward the cell block doors you feel your body getting heavy all of a sudden. You look down at your shirt and see a huge splotch of blood on the side of your body, "god damn it," you say and it get the attention of the group. While you are starting to feel the adrenaline from before slip away, your eyes close and sooner or later your body is eventually smacking against the pavement. Your world going dark once again.

Let's check up on Daryl hm?

Well, he felt shitty to say the least. Shitty to be back on the road (in his case the woods), shitty to leave people he cared about behind, to leave you behind. Merle wasn't helping either, insisting on making everything some kind of competition, not respecting him, not listening to him. He hated it. Daryl’s thoughts about you were invading his mind. He thought about those few seconds you held onto his face, he wondered if maybe there was something else you had to say. Daryl was mostly spacing out in a lot of Merle's rambling, that is until he heard Merle start talking about you.

“That smokin hot piece of ass back there, she is really a piece of work man, I mean if she hadn’t killed my guys, you know I was really looking forward to-"

"Bro, don’t you ever talk about her,” Daryl basically growled and got in his brothers face, “you’re the dipshit who went after her, you got what you deserved. Now I don’t wanna hear anything about her come outta your mouth, again,” he told him, starting to raise his voice while he pointed his finger at his brother angrily, "Woah baby brother, calm down now. You don't know her, I’m telling you she's crazy man," Merle mistakenly said as he felt his brother shove him, "Man, the hell did I just say? I don't wanna hear her name comin out your mouth-" he stops yelling at Merle when he hears a baby crying from a distance away.

"That's a baby," he said and backed off, grabbing his crossbow off of the ground. He scoffed when he heard Merle's nonsense about it not being baby and just some animals mating. He kept hearing the baby and it reminded him of whenever Judith cried, you and him would be right there calming her down. Whenever you were calming her down he would admire you, a hidden smile on his face while he watched. He quickly made up his mind and went up to the bridge to save the people and their baby.

After everything he was starting to get sick of it, he wanted to go back to what he considered home, his family. Once Merle ripped the back of his shirt and exposed a part of himself that he never let anyone see but you that one time, that was his last straw. He left and made his way back to the prison immediately. After saving Rick and making his way to the cell block, you were the only thing on his mind.

While he was running to get inside, he saw the blood on the pavement in front of the cell block doors from where you fell. He stopped in his tracks and pointed at it, "Rick, who's blood is that?" he gruffly called out and turned around to see Rick giving him a look, a very knowing look that Daryl was not in the mood to start getting used too.

A look that really means one of two things.

Someone they all cared about was dead or Rick had some news to share with the archer.

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I believe there is just one more part of this mini-series left!

hope you enjoyed,

<3 duck🐣

#duck's works #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl x you #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd #twd daryl

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babyboy-cody · 3 years ago

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Hi I’ve recently stumbled across your new Dolan twin stuff and the way you write is amazing!! Are your requests open? If so can you do something w gray where he’s all soft and needy and cuddly and she needs to get school work done so she just sits in between his legs doing work and he plays w her hair etc etc.??

thank you!! and yes, requests are always open! ^.^

Finals week was possibly the hardest and most stressful thing you’ve ever done in your entire life on Earth. Studying for midterms during your junior year of high school, applying for colleges, applying for jobs, studying for your driver’s test - all of that was a piece of cake. You checked it off as though it was a grocery list, moving on to the next thing in order to finish your day. But finals week for your final year of college was a mix of Adderall, panic attacks, no sleep, and bitten nails and nail beds. You’ve never experienced such stress, and it worried not only you, but Grayson as well. You rarely ate, barely showered - he even had to buy you blue-light glasses because you complained about your vision being blurry and getting intense migraines.

He deeply and terribly missed you. He understands how difficult finals can be, and he supports you till the end. But what you’ve been doing is unhealthy. You don’t have a steady schedule to separate your academic life from your personal life, and it’s been causing lots of issues. You’ve been unintentionally snapping at Grayson, especially over the littlest things. For example, Grayson was incredibly sweet enough to clean up your desk area. He stacked your books in chronological order, neatened up your notes, wiped away dust that caused his allergies to spike. Accidentally, he misplaced your glasses. And you had a fit and nervously paced back and forth while biting your already bitten nails.

“Baby…” he softly spoke. “They’re over here.” And he had pointed to your side of the bed where he had put them. You didn’t mean to raise your voice, and you had broken down to tears, to which Grayson quickly pull you into his arms and hushed you quietly while giving you kisses. He understood and he never once held that against you.

Today, you had finished one of three finals. You had one thesis paper you had to research for and a chart project for your liberal arts class. So far so good, you mentally told yourself. Your laptop was open to numerous tabs as you had your books open in front of you. Highlighters, pens, and pencils were spread around the bed. Your back ached and you repetitively cracked and stretched your muscles. You desperately needed a massage, specifically from Grayson because he is the king of back massages. Just thinking about his large, warm hands kneading into your skin while whispered praise in your ears had you sighing softly and closing your eyes.

“What’re you thinking about?” You heard Grayson’s voice as he enters the room, holding a plate of vegan sausages, cauliflower nuggets, roasted potatoes that are seasoned so well that you can smell it from your spot on the bed. He holds a glass of cold green tea in the other and motions for you to scoot over. “You gotta eat, babe.”

Your mouth instantly waters as you take the plate and thanks him with a tired smile and a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Grayson observes you silently as you dig into the delicious vegan dinner he cooked. The small moan you let out as you continue eating. He almost wanted to do a happy wiggle because you were eating without telling him “one more minute” or “i’ll eat later.”

“I missed you,” he quietly told you, pushing you hair away from your face as it gets to close to your chewing mouth. He tucks it behind your ear with his thumb. He strokes the back of your head, smiling you when you nudge your head back further against his hand. “When you’re done eating, we’re gonna set a healthy schedule together, okay? And then you spend time with me for a little bit.”

You sigh quietly and hand him your empty plate. “Gray, baby, I’d love to… but I have so much work to do and have zero time to relax for even two minutes,” you told him in a quiet apologetic tone.

“Okay, it’s okay,” he quickly reassured you when he saw the panic in your eyes. He gave your cheek a few small kisses and put your plate and cup on the table. “I just… missed you, ya know.”

“And I missed you more.” You felt him sit behind you, legs on either side of your crossed arms. His arms wrapped around your stomach, immediately pulling you into his hard chest hidden underneath his Dolan Twins merch sweatshirt. “Gray..”

He whined deep in your shoulder as his arms tightened when you tried to move away. You stifled a laugh by biting your lip and looking up at the ceiling. He always got so needy when you didn’t give him enough attention. If you two are in the same room and sitting too far from each other, he’ll send you a text and look at you over the top of his phone, feeling giddy when you roll your eyes jokingly and get up from your seat to go to him.

“Just a few minutes,” his voice muffled behind your shoulder. You laughed at his childish antics and brought your laptop closer to you. Grayson was happy that you didn’t shrug him off. You allowed him to do as he pleased while you finished your small project. “So pretty..”

“Thank you, baby,” you laughed quietly when he pulled your hair behind your shoulders to braid it. You remember him telling you a while ago that he learned how to braid from Cameron. He was always a curious kid growing up and wanted to learn something new everyday.

Grayson hummed in content as he finished the braid and tied it with the small hair tie he kept around his wrist for his own hair, which is getting a bit long, but he knows you’ll throw a huge fit if he gets a haircut. He wrapped his arms back around you and laid his head against your back, eyes shutting and body slouching. The weight of him got more and more heavy, slowly pushing you forward. You tried sneaking a look over your shoulder, pausing your typing for a second. The movement made Grayson let out a sluggish hum.

“Baby, come lay down on my lap,” you told him, stacking up the books you didn’t need and putting your writing utensils into your case.

Grayson lets out a small “yay!” and quickly moves down next to your lap. When he lays his head down, he gives your thigh a kiss and wiggles his shoulders. You shake your head down at him and use one hand to slowly type while the other makes its way into his thick hair. The slow clicks of your keyboard mixed with the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp and playing with his hair has him lulling to sleep. When you hear small snores, you look down and felt your heart melt. You quietly grabbed your phone and took a picture, his cheek smushed against your thigh and his lips parted.

When you posted it to Instagram, the caption was:

thank you for always supporting me and making sure i’m mentally here. i don’t know what i’d do without you. 💜 @/graysondolan

#this was really soft #im soft #grayson’s soft #we’re all soft #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan #this one is for bubba because she deserves soft grayson 🥺#grayson dolan fluff

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

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Leave the Cooking to Me (Sam x Rose x Reader)

Request: Sam x rose x reader. Where R was a part time chef so she’s always cooking their meals and the team is jealous of the good food

Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog. We had way too much fun doing this one and spent way too much time looking up random food things. Gotta say that we are both a sucker for writing for Sam.

Sam and Rose were lucky and they would tell that to anyone who would listen to them. You weren’t just the sweetest human being they had ever met, or the most thoughtful. You were all of those things, and you knew how to cook. Not just recreationally either. You were the full fledged winner of Top Chef season 19, and the Sous chef at one of the hottest restaurants in Washington D.C.

“How can you make such good food dressed like that?” Sam asked, leaning over the island and resting her chin on her hand.

“What do you mean?” You raised your eyebrows at the woman, continuing to run your knife along the onion without looking at it.

“Don’t all of your skills come from your chefs coat?” Rose asked, sliding up beside you, her hand trailing under the back of your shirt. You shivered at the cold hand touching your skin.

“I’m not Iron Man. I can function without an outfit,” you said, rolling your eyes, as you grabbed an egg. You happened to like wearing an oversized pajama shirt and short-shorts while cooking. You never felt bad about spilling anything on them, since you didn’t exactly wear them in public. “Sam, since your hands aren’t literal icicles-” Rose stuck her tongue out at you playfully “- can you hold this and warm it up to room temperature while Rose helps me hold the pastry?”

“Ohhh what kind of pastry? Why is that filling purple?” Rose squealed. You knew how much she loved when you baked for them (especially considering those croissants you made them for special occasions). She pulled the bowl closer to her, and scrunched her nose when she saw the contents.

You may have had a good track record, but that color was crazy.

“It’s Spanakopita, but we’re going to experiment just a little bit. If you don’t like it you have to eat it anyway,” You shrugged, rolling out the dough onto a cutting board, and positioning Rose’s hands right where you wanted them.

“If you make it, we’re going to like it.” Sam snorted, and Rose raised her eyebrow at her.

You bit you lip, wilting just slightly. “I just got inspired, cause the beats are going to look so good in the risotto for the Arancini,”

“If it’s anything like that curry you made last time you got inspired, I think we’ll be ok,” Sam said, kissing your neck with a grin while you worked. You squeaked a little and jumped, hip-checking her to keep her away from accidentally touching the food.

“It’s just a shame Valentine’s day already happened,” Rose said, looking at the three bowls of filling in their various places on the counter or in the fridge, “Pink, red, and purple dishes would have made great themed appetizers for your restaurant!”

You snorted and shook your head. “I wish, we could do anything this interesting.” The arancini, maybe. The other two would probably be avoided like the plague for fear of any garlic or other lingering spices. “People are too bougie to enjoy the simple things like strangely colored foods.”

“Good thing we’re not!” Sam smiled broadly, stealing a piece of orange-colored pork from the bowl to your right.

“Yeah, we get all the sass and none of the class,” Rose giggled, barely avoiding your slap at her hand as she also stole a piece of pork.

Just then you heard singing from the couch. “We are family,” Sam stuffed the piece of pork in her mouth and jumped up to grab her phone from where it was wedged between the cushions. “I’ve got all my sisters and me.”

“Tha’s Kwsten,” She spoke through her mouthful then swallowed. Do you mind if I go take this?”

“Go for it, we’re about to stick this stuff in the oven anyway,” You nodded, giggling when she tripped over a chair on her way to grab the phone. “Make sure you swallow before you answer,”

“Took you long enough. What were you doing, trying to find your pants?” Kristie’s voice rang through your apartment the second Sam answered the call. You smiled when your girlfriend’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

“No, Y/n is cooking. She’s so good with her hands Kris, it’s not fair,” Sam said shaking her head.

Kristie snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at the woman. “I’m sure she is,”

“Stop trying to turn everything I say into a euphemism.” Sam groaned, sending a glare at Rose who was cackling like a madwoman.

“But you make it sooo easy,” Kristie teased, “I mean what was it you said last time, ‘she kneads aggressively?’”

“Bread, Kris. She was making bread. And you’re supposed to do-I mean knead it aggressively, that’s how gluten develops.”

“Stop trying to explain it babe,” Rose sang, her voice bubbling with suppressed laughter.

“You’re just making it worse,” You nodded along.

“You know, I’m not this mean to you when Emily and Lindsey pull this shit with you. I was even sympathetic with the Sketchers thing,” Sam pouted.

“We agreed to never mention that again,” Rose said menacingly, but Sam was distracted as you handed her a plate with the Spanakopita.

Sam’s pout melted off her face at the sight of the plate. “Ooo goodies. Thanks babe,”

You kissed her cheek and waved to her sister on the phone before heading back to the kitchen to finish the next set.

“What is that?”

“Just course one of the amazing appetizers lunch my wonderful girlfriend is making for me.” Sam bit in and rolled her eyes at the taste, holding up the other half of the Spanakopita so she could see the gorgeous and delicious purple filling.

“For both of you Sammy. Don’t leave Rosie out, that’s mean,” You called out, your tongue poking between your teeth as you stirred the pot on the stove.

In the background of Kristie’s call, Sam could see other teammates gathering around the phone to see her food. She stood and walked back to the kitchen, turning the facetime camera around so they could see the two trays out of the oven and then you stirring at the stove. You waved your spoon but stayed focused. The rice was just at the point when it was most likely to burn and you needed to make sure the texture didn’t go from delicious to goopy. Risotto wasn’t for the faint of heart.

“Look at how fluffy this Bao is!” Sam said, slowly tearing one of the dumplings in half in front of the camera. Sisterly torture went both ways- her sister may turn half of what Sam said into sex jokes, but Sam could rub the delicious food in Kristie’s face.

“Why is it so orange?” Emily asked, piping in from behind the older Mewis sister.

“Some awesome Indonesian spices that Y/n thought would be good,” Sam said, taking a huge bite out of the bun.

“Tamarind and Turmeric in the mix,” you called out from behind her.

“It’s not fair that your girlfriend is a literal chef who enjoys cooking in the weekend,” Emily whined, followed shortly by a “shut up Sonnett” from Lindsey and a thump.

“Experimenting apparently,” Rose said, mischievously.

“Not helping dear. Anyway, what were you calling about Kris?” Sam said pointedly.

“We just wanted to know what you eta for camp was?” Kristie asked.

“Um, the flight leaves tomorrow at what time was it again Rose? 8 am?”

“Try 4:30 am Sam,” You rolled your eyes. It was going to suck, but you were going to make sure to pack some tasty overnight oats so no one was grumpy on the plane.

“Ugh. That’s bullshit. Anyway, takeoff at god-awful early in the morning, and then we’ll see you when we land!” Sam said. She hung up the phone and moved back towards the counter.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll schedule the flight next time,” You leaned up to kiss her cheek. “Now how bout you help me roll some balls?”

*****

“I don’t know what we did wrong this time?” Kelley said, poking the overly pale cinnamon rolls that had just come out of the oven. Then she turned the roll over to see a crisp black scorch on the base. “It looks like we took them out just in time though?”

“They’re pale on the top and burnt in the bottom,” Rose whined, tapping the middle of one of the rolls experimentally.

“Kind of line you Rose,” Sam laughed, patting her shorter girlfriend on the back.

“Haha, at least they’re not hockey pucks like the last batch,” Rose grumbled.

How they had let their teammates talk them into this, she didn’t know. What she did know was that cooking with you was way more fun than doing it with this bunch. At least with you everything turned out tasty in the end. And if she accidentally messed something up you always knew how to fix it.

“Stop that,” Kelley swatted Alex’s hand away from the bowl of icing. “That’s unsanitary. Let us drizzle it on the rolls first and then you can clean the bowl.”

“But then what are we gonna do with this caramel you insisted I stir?” Emily asked, looking up from the pot in front of her.

“It’s for the next batch. You put it in the bottom before you bake,” Sam answered, beginning to roll out the next set of cinnamon rolls.

“And technically, we didn’t insist you do anything Sonnet. We mentioned our idea to make caramel for the cinnamon rolls and you jumped up and said “I volunteer as tribute”” Rose grumbled. “You didn’t even let us suggest a recipe.”

“Which considering the success of the other recipes you picked, might have been a good idea,” Emily said, frowning slightly at the bubbling mixture in front of her. She was stirring but the bubbles weren’t going away like they did with pasta. Maybe because it was thicker? She stirred faster to compensate.

“Hey guys, what are you-... oh shit,” You raced over to the stove, nearly barreling into Emily as you grabbed the practically overflowing pot of molten sugar and moved it off the heat, praying you had gotten to it before it was too late. You really didn’t want to have to explain to the trainers why you and Emily had third-degree burns if the pot exploded.

You spun towards the group of older players, glaring at them. “Who let the child do the most dangerous job?”

“Dangerous?!?” Kelley and Rose sputtered. Sam just blinked at you

You shook your head and pinched the space between your eyes. “If it crystallizes and you don’t take it off the heat it can explode. You don’t stir sugar,”

“Oh. Well. At least there’s still icing?” Sam grabbed one of the better rolls and gave it a hearty helping of icing before handing it to you.

“What did you use, because Alex is vegan and she’s been eating it?” You narrowed your eyes at the offered plate, glancing sideways at a set of very pale rolls and a set that were very burnt and flat.

“Flaxseed and applesauce instead of eggs and oat milk instead of milk. And margarine instead of butter.” Kelley said, automatically. She and her fiance had been making vegan substitutes for a while now, and while they might not have been traditional cinnamon roll ingredients, she knew the measurements by heart, so that’s what they had used.

You bit your lip and squinted your eyes as you reached out and swiped a bit of frosting from on top of the bun and put it into your mouth.

You gulped when the salty substance hit your tongue, trying and failing to conceal your wince after the flavor. Your girlfriends were a lot of things, but apparently good cooks wasn’t on that list. “Hey, what container was the powdered sugar that you used for this in?”

“Um, this one?” Kelley said, sliding you a container.

Your eyes widened at the blue-lidded container. You had been experimenting for a new dish at the restaurant and had gotten a hold of some micro powder salt flour for it. You thought it would give the new cracker-jack-themed desert a better taste, and help to balance out all the sugar from the Caramel ice cream.

“That’s not sugar,” you said weakly.

Alex dipped her finger into the bowl and tasted it, gagging. “It’s salty!”

Sam frowned down at the plate in her hand. She hadn’t wanted to do this, to begin with, but the team had insisted. Assured her they knew what they were doing and that you would love the surprise. Instead, Emily had almost burnt down your kitchen and everything was a mess.

“Is none of it alright,” Rose asked softly from behind you, her lip jutting out.

You scanned the kitchen, looking from the still ominously bubbling ooze on the stove, to the cinnamon rolls so undercooked you could catch salmonella from them to the icing, then finally to a glass on the counter. You grabbed it and took a large swig of vanilla oat milk.

“Your milk tastes great!” you said enthusiastically, as the others started laughing.

Sam and Rose just wilted further. You sighed, wrapping your arm around your taller girlfriend and holding your hand out to Rose. “It’s the thought that counts guys. And I love the thought,”

“That’s what your parents tell you when you give them shitty presents so you don’t feel bad,” Rose grumbled, and Sam nodded.

You sighed, unable to keep your lips from tipping up in a smile. It was just. It was so bad it was funny. “Maybe next time start with something a little easier? I’d love some scrambled eggs and toast!”

Sam sighed. “You hate eggs,”

You laughed again. “But I love you, even if you two can’t cook,”

You leaned up to kiss under Sam’s chin and over to Rose’s cheek. You loved them and would remind them that their skills were on the field. They should leave the kitchen stuff to you.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #sam mewis imagine #sam mewis x reader #rose lavelle x reader #rose lavelle imagine #sam x rose x reader #literalhedgehog

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remakethestars · 4 years ago

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CABIN 10 — APHRODITE

Headcanons.

❝I want to apologize to all the women I have called pretty before I’ve called them intelligent or brave. I am sorry I made it sound as though something as simple as what you’re born with is the most you have to be proud of when your spirit has crushed mountains. From now on, I will say things like, ‘You are resilient,’ or, ‘You are extraordinary.’ Not because I don’t think you’re pretty. But because you are so much more than that.❞

— Rupi Kaur

Headcanon masterlist.

They’re the camp hairdressers. You need a trim? You want it cut? You want it died? You want to shave it all off? Hit ‘em up.

The type of people that will straight-up chop their hair if it doesn't match their outfit. Somehow, it always works out? I'm looking at Micarah Tewers.

They also run a secret ear piercing — or anything else you need to pierce — parlor.

Okay, but consider: children of Aphrodite that grow up to be models.

They can charm speak the photographers into letting them pick their own poses & not make them do seductive ones if they’re not comfortable with them.

Some create clothing lines that represent sustainable fashion & have big names but small carbon footprints.

Some are spies.

Think about it! They know how to switch subtle bits of their personality to fit in with everyone they come across, when & when not to use their charm.

The hide outfits under other outfits & can slip one off in public to reveal the other & lose a tail.

And they'd probably be great at disguise makeup. Add a prosthetic chin, contour their nose differently, pull off their wig, & they're a completely different person.

Plus, their combat training at C.H.B. makes them the perfect agent.

The floor next to their bunk is scattered with fabric cuttings, pins, needles, their sewing machine, serger, & measuring tape.

The number of times someone's gotten a needle or pin in their foot's a tad concerning.

Will absolutely not wear a top with an overstitched collar. Fast fashion is so tacky! Understitch is the way to go, the staple of a quality garment.

Vintage is better. Not because it's in style (that's a plus, though), but because the seams are big enough for you to let out, & it's made to last.

Experts at thrifting. Not just 'cause it's trendy or whatever, but because they're excellent at upcycling & far too many perfectly good clothes go into the land fill each year.

Make stunning dresses out of Good Will table cloths & curtains.

Or stitch two items together into one better whole.

They iron their clothes; they're not animals.

Really good at getting stains out?

Totally in on the corset bustier top trend, but they're using spiral steel boning in place of zip-ties. Because, again, they want things to last & they're not tacky.

Pass each other tips. Like to tuck your top into your tights to avoid the bulge under your skirt.

Some found big-name, organic makeup companies that don't test on animals. They use packaging that can be recycled or that's biodegradable.

Borrow their clothes, sure, whatever, but double-dip in their makeup & die. The bacteria will give them acne. (Or is it the oils? Either way, you'll perish.)

Happy to drop their skincare routine, though.

You need to cover up that tattoo you got from C7? They got you.

Flawless makeup on a budget. Expensive doesn't always mean better.

They're taking you to the pool for a first date? Take a seat, C10 knows just the stuff. They use what Disney Princesses use.

Can guess the right shade of foundation/lipstick for you on the first couple tries.

A lot of them invest in magnetic lashes because glue's a b¡tch.

Reusable makeup wipes.

Rick says C10 kids just sit around the lake & check their reflection, but consider: working out gets them their dream bod. So, yes, they do, in fact, train.

They just do it with intricate braids/hair gel & stylish sportwear.

And if a potential partner finds it unattractive that they’re “too muscly,” they’re no longer a potential partner.

Weapons disguised as jewelry or chapstick/lipstick.

Thalia had a mace canister that turned into a spear, & I gotta say, I.D.K. how she planned to get that through security. Imagine, alternatively, a tube that appears to be full of bright red lipstick when the T.S.A. agent opens it, but actually turns into a spear when opened by a half-blood.

(I have a headcanon that Riptide would just be a pen in the hands of a mortal. Bounced around for years as random objects until Poseidon nabbed it & took it to Chiron — recall that pen you lost?)

A pink, velvet choker that turns into a kopis with a dove embossed in the handle.

Many choose to train in heels. Might as well wear in training what they’ll be wearing when attacked in the street.

They’ve got no time for internalized misogyny.

“C10′s weak ‘cause they like being pretty!” Good way to lose a kneecap, Annabeth. You’ve grown up in this camp, you knew Selina, & you should know better.

They confront Piper’s misogyny pretty early on after The Lost Hero, but Piper still takes some time to get over her bias toward pink.

Are we not gonna talk about Rick’s fashion choices for Piper throughout the series? “She looks so fashionable.” To whom, Rick? To whom?

You couldn’t’ve done a little internet surfing just to see what was in style? I never leave the house in anything but jeans, Converse, & a graphic t-shirt from Walmart, & even I know she’s dressed like a middle-schooler! Probably because that’s how I dressed in middle-school… That’s not the point.

The point is just because a character likes makeup or fashion or the color pink, doesn’t mean they can’t/won’t fight for their lives & the lives of their friends if/when the time comes. And it doesn’t mean that they’re stupid or judgmental.

I don’t know a lot about makeup. Hades, I don’t even wear makeup — you can’t rub your eyes or scratch your face; it would drive me crazy. I don’t know a lot about fashion either. I don’t understand it, but I can respect it.

❝‘Jesus,’ Sara says as Branley walks past us. ‘Too cold to show off cleavage, so instead she goes for jeans so tight I can see her thong.’ ‘She looks nice,’ I say, and she does. Branley always looks put together in a way that tells me she spends hours in front of a mirror before going outside. And while I don’t understand that, I can respect it.❞

— Alex Craft, Mindy McGinnis’s The Female of the Species

According to The Lost Hero, all children of Aphrodite intuitively speak French. Cool, cool, cool — but consider, all of them also intuitively speak the language of flowers.

They see a red rose, and they just know it symbolizes love & passion. They see an orange lily, to contrast, & they know it symbolizes hatred.

There’s a copy of The Language of Flowers in their cabin, and it’s full of annotations, like, So-and-so gave these to so-and-so for Valentines Day! And, So-and-so gave these to so-and-so after their kiss on the Fourth of July; they obviously didn’t do their research!

They work together with C4 (Demeter) to provide flowers for funerals & the like.

C10 bookshelves also contain a lot of romance novels.

Beaten up copies of Pride & Prejudice & The Fault in Our Stars with faded highlighter over the beautiful lines & annotations in the margins.

The outside walls are a dusty pink, & the wood’s stained a dark brown that goes surprisingly well with the pink.

Inside, the walls are covered in faded wallpaper.

The southwest wall has a bay window with extra storage in the seat. (There’s not a body in there; they swear.)

(That’s an Arsenic & Old Lace reference, for you youngsters.)

The curtains have one chiffon layer closer to the window & a thicker floral fabric for inside. The thick curtains are replaced based on the season & whether or not someone’s decided to make a romper out of them.

They have a real bell jar with a real rose in front of the window. Legend has it it’s from Aphrodite herself.

Said window is a stained glass image of a dove.

The chaise lounge was probably beautiful when it was brought it, but it’s got fingernail polish & makeup stains on it now. Honestly, someone should really have that thing cleaned.

As you might have noticed, I placed a gif of swans at the top instead of a fancast for Aphrodite. This is because I think, as I believe most Percy Jackson fans do, multiple people should play her. I'd cast Arden Cho, Camila Mendes, Candice Patton, Diane Kruger, & Gal Gadot to start with.

Visit my Aphrodite cabin Pinterest board or my headcanon masterlist.

DISCLAIMER ━━━ I know I got a tad political with this one, but I didn’t & don’t intend to offend anyone. ━━━ These headcanons are what I consider to be canon in my fanfictions. They may be others’s headcanons I’ve subconsciously filed away in my noggin. If one’s yours and you want it removed or credited, please send me your post and let me know.

#Aphrodite #Aphrodite cabin #Aphrodite kids #children of Aphrodite #Percy Jackson #PJO #HOO #remakethestars #beauty #makeup #sewing #fashion #headcanons #headcannons #hcs

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champagne-bucky · 4 years ago

Text

The Things We Do for Money

Summary: Your boss is a pain in the ass… sometimes

Warnings: Chris Evans x Reader, smut, oral (female receiving), a bit of drunk! Chris

Notes: I know Chris Evans has big brat energy and I needed to get it out of my system.

There was no one on this planet who could hate their job as much as you hate yours. Sometimes you’d curse yourself out for agreeing to take on this stupid assistants job, but you were in a pinch and desperately needed the money. Now here you are, stuck three months in with the most absurd and demanding boss. He always has you doing his bitch work for him.

Okay, you’ll run out and get him a coffee from time to time when he’s at work. You’ll go run the errands and make the phone calls he’s unable to make, but you drew the line the second he asked you to do the most dumbest tasks for him.

He started acting ridiculous literally a month into the job, when he called you at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. Turns out the dumbass couldn’t find his running shoes and you had schlepped yourself half an hour to his house only to find them under the bed the first minute of your arrival. Then, he’d call you for things like tying his shoe laces “because his hands were tired”, whatever the fuck that means, or picking out his evening wear when he’d go out with the guys (and he’d never end up liking what you picked out!)

Now here you are, in your cold ass car in the middle of a Boston winter, driving to your bosses house at the crack ass of dawn. You were annoyed because the night before he’d kept you up till late rattling off your To-Do list for the very next day, half the stuff would probably be scratched from the list anyways.

Your phone started to ring and you groaned knowing exactly who it was... BECAUSE WHO ELSE WAS UP THIS EARLY!?!?

“Yes, Chris,” you grumbled.

“Whoa, whoa, someone’s a little grouchy for 5:30 in the morning. Speaking of, you’re 30 minutes too late,” you wanted to cure the bastard out, but then he followed up with a laugh.

“Kidding, kidding, anyways, Assistant, I need a favor,” here we go…

“I’m your assistant, doing you favors is my job description, and I have a name you know.”

“Eh, Assistant suits you better. Anyways, if you could run to the shop and pick up my shoes for that award show I have later, oh, and schedule me a haircut would you? You know what to tell them,” this man was way too cheery for this early in the morning.

“No, it does not, the award show is three months away, and no, I do not know how you get your haircut, and I don’t want to know,” Chris responded with a low whistle.

“Gee, someone’s a little cranky monster. Let’s fix that frown before you come over okay?” you grit your teeth. Chris didn’t like a nasty attitude and he had the power to fire you for it.

“Yes, Mr. Evans,” you huffed and he hung up the phone after telling you a few more demands.

As much as this man was slowly pushing you towards your breaking point, the job came with perks. One of those being travel. You never had an opportunity to travel a lot and working for Chris gave you the chance. From Singapore to Australia, you finally got to see what was beyond your small town of Massachusetts.

Right now, you were in Atlanta where Chris was filming a new Marvel movie. You didn’t get to see much of the set, or the cast, or the inside of your bosses trailer, but you did get to see a lovely highway every couple hours while running around for that pain in the ass. However, when you got done you got to have lunch in Chris’ trailer without him, which was a big plus. Actually, every moment away from Chris was a true blessing.

“ASSISTANT” you groaned as you heard your name being called from outside the trailer. You put down your half eaten sandwich and swung open the trailer door. There stood Chris in his Captain America suit, arms crossed and tapping his foot.

“Yes, Mr. Evans?” Chris put a smile on his face and motioned you to come closer to him. You stepped closer, but he made you come even closer. You came as close to his mouth and he whispered in your ear.

“Do you know what time it is?” you pulled back from his lips with a confused expression.

“Uh, no. W-What time is it?”

“Time for you to help me out of this tight ass costume,” your eyes went wide in horror. Not this shit again.

“No, no, please Mr. Evans, can’t you ask someone else, like a male, to take off your costume,” you pleaded as marched past you.

“Nope, that’s why I hired an assistant, Assistant. Now hurry up, the boots are the hardest to get off,” you groaned and stepped into the trailer.

Chris sat down on the couch and motioned for you to get by his one boot. You grimaced and got to your knees and started to take the boot off. You tugged and tugged until it loosened a little. When it finally did, the whole room filled with a stench.

“Mr. Evans, ew, can’t you wear socks with these things,” Chris let out a deep chuckle and shook his head.

“Can’t do that or the boots will be too tight on my poor little feet,” he put out the other boot clad foot.

“Little is an understatement, sir,” Chris covered up his small groan with a clear of his throat.

“Well Assistant, you know what they say about big feet,” you choked on your spit and looked up at the man.

“They sign you big paychecks. Now hurry up, I’m getting drinks with the guys tonight,” you groaned again and worked the other boot off.

When the costume was fully off, averting your eyes where necessary, Chris was changing back into his regular clothes while a knock sounded at the door.

“Get that for me, Assistant,” you went to the door and swung it open and were faced with two of his co-workers, Anthony and Sebastian.

“Oh, assistant girl? We aren’t interrupting anything are we?” Anthony winked and Sebastian chuckled. Your cheeks were heating up at that comment when you felt Chris behind you.

“Yeah guys, just one second I gotta put on a shirt,” your eyes noticeably widened knowing Chris was right behind you, shirtless.

The men suppressed their laughter at your shocked expression. They probably thought you were sleeping with your boss! Oh god, listen, Chris wasn’t an unattractive man, hell no, but he was your boss (and also a pain in the ass), you couldn’t cross that sort of line.

“I’ll be going now, Assistant. Clean up for me and finish up that list,” Chris grabbed his wallet and left the trailer.

“Yes, Mr. Evans.”

Anthony and Sebastian stopped in their tracks to laugh a little. When Chris turned around to give them a ‘what’ look Anthony finally spoke.

“Yes, Mr. Evans. I’ll clean up the trailer and then clean you up later, sir,” Anthony mocked your voice as Chris punched his arm lightly.

That blare of your ringtone made you shoot up out of your peaceful sleep and clutch your heart. You peered over at the time to see that it was 3 a.m. Groaning, you ignored that call without seeing who it was and tried to sleep again, but then they called you back.

You turned your light on and grabbed your phone and saw that Chris was calling you. Pissed off and tired, you answered the phone with an angry ‘what’.

“Oh, Assistant, I need you,” Chris sounded like he was slurring his words. He was still at the bar?

“Mr. Evans? Are you drunk?”

“Yessssss, I made an oopsie and had tooooo much to drink. Can you pwetty pwease come pick me up. Pleaseeeeeeeeeeee…” he dragged out the last vowel as you started looking for your keys.

“Fine, but you’re paying me overtime for this,” you slide on your shoes and run out of the hotel room to go get the big drunken baby.

It took you awhile, but you finally found the bar Chris was at. Luckily, he has always shared his phone location with you for emergencies like these. It didn’t take long to find him either seeing as he was moping on the curb nursing a beer in his hands.

You rolled your eyes and got out of the car. Chris’ ears perked up at the sound of a door slamming shut and he immediately was smiling like a dope.

“ASSISTANT!” He screamed and held his arms out for you. The people passing by on the sidewalk gave him dirty looks.

“Chris, shhhh, let’s get you back into the car, okay?”

“HEY! THAT’S MR. EVANS TO YOU or sir if you want to spice things up,” he barely whispered and gave you a wink. Scoffing, you shoved him into your tiny car before he took off down the street.

The drive back to Chris’ Atlanta home was a bit of a drive, but there was not much traffic on the road so it would be quicker than usual. Chris was falling asleep in the passengers seat, but would come to every so often to slur something stupid. This time, when his head went up to speak to you his words were loud and clear.

“You’re pretty,” your cheeks were heating up, but it was too dark to see.

“Thank you, Mr. Evans.”

“And kind, sweet, lovely,” he was showering you with compliment after compliment and you didn’t know how to respond.

“I like you, Assistant,” you tried to keep your composure, but you were stunned. He was drunk so that meant nothing, right?

“I would figure since you keep me around all the time,” you laughed off.

“Noooo, I really like you. Not in a “like” you, but in a “like like” like you way,” his body was now fully turned to face you.

“Oh, well, Mr. Evans I’m flattered, but you’re my boss. I can’t ruin our professional relationship,” Chris let out a whine just as you were pulling up to his house and getting out of the car.

“Then as your boss, I demand you to like like me,” you laughed as you opened the car door for him to get out.

“Mr. Evans, you know we can’t allow that,” you tried your best to joke with him, but he kept up pestering you.

“How about a thank you for helping me get home,” you furrowed your brows as Chris unlocked his door and was leaning up on the threshold.

“Umm, Mr. Evans I-,” you didn’t get a chance to finish because Chris grabbed your face and was leaving a sloppy kiss on your lips.

Your eyes were probably wider than they have ever been in your lifetime. Chris Evans was kissing you. Chris Evans was kissing his assistant. Chris Evans was drunk and kissing a woman who he signs her paychecks for every week.

He pulled back a few moments later with a satisfied look on his face. He was still stumbling drunk, but it seemed as if he didn’t care. Chris had a cocky grin on his face while looking at your frozen expression.

“Um, Mr. Evans, um. I’ll see you tomorrow,” and you sprinted back to your car and pulled out of the driveway, not even glancing back at your boss.

It had been a while since the whole drunk kiss incident. The day after that night you didn’t bring up what had happened and neither did Chris.

You assumed that he was so drunk that he probably forgot about the kiss. To be fair, he didn’t even remember him calling you to come pick him up or the whole drive back home. He must’ve forgotten about the kiss and you intended to never bring it up.

Things between you and your boss went back to normal after that. You were still dealing with his antics and absurdities, but it paid your bills so you couldn't complain. However, Chris seemed to be lenient with you nowadays.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but he definitely changed his demeanor recently. He let you come into work an hour later than usual, anytime you said you were unable to do something he let it slide, and he also had given you a raise out of nowhere. Maybe he was changing…

“ASSISTANT,” nevermind…

“ASSISTANT!” you followed Chris’ voice to the backyard where he was standing by the pool.

“Yes, Mr. Evans,” you rolled your eyes.

“Assistant, can you do me a favor?”

“Will I get fired for saying no?”

“Yes.”

“Then what is it,” you walked over to him as he started to take off his shirt.

“I want to go for a swim, but I don’t want to miss an important phone call I should be getting.”

“And?”

“And I want you to sit out here and watch my phone till it rings,” you looked at him in disbelief. He really wants you to babysit a phone?

“Are you serious? You just want me to sit out here and stare at your phone?”

“Well, I’d invite you to join me in the pool, but you don’t have a swimsuit,” Chris scoffed and jumped into the pool.

You rolled your eyes and took a seat on the lounge chair. If you were going to babysit his phone you might as well relax a bit. Plus, you didn’t mind the little show you were getting courtesy of Chris.

About an hour went by and still no phone call. Chris had been busy swimming laps in his pool and playing with Dodger who would jump in for a swim. Either Chris was pulling your leg just so you could watch him or this phone call was never happening. You’d think after an hour someone would call soon.

You moved to get up and go back in the kitchen to answer some emails to the rest of Chris’ team when he called for you to come back.

“Mr. Evans, it’s been an hour and no one has called. I have work to do, I can’t stand around all day watching you swim and wait for your phone to ring. You’re a big boy you can do it,” you didn’t hear him get out, but Chris was hot on your tail as you entered back in the house.

“So, you were watching me, huh,” you tried your best to hide the blush creeping up on your face.

“Not the point, sir. I need to get back to work,” Chris clicked his tongue between his teeth.

“Alright, while you get back to work, I’ll be in the shower,” you went back to your computer and hummed in agreement with his plans.

You heard a ruffle of clothing hit the floor as you looked up from your laptop screen. You gasped in horror as you saw Chris had shucked his bottoms off right in front of you and turned to walk to the bathroom. You put your head down as he turned around to look at you with a satisfied smirk.

The faint sound of the shower running filled the silence for a few minutes as you contemplated your next move. The swim shorts stayed where they were and you refused to pick them up. You still couldn’t get the image of your boss and his bare ass out of your head.

What did this mean now for your job?

“Assistant,” you froze at the sound of Chris’ voice, “I need you.”

“Now?”

“Yes, it’s urgent,” he sounded anxious.

“Yes, Mr. Evans,” you said from behind the cracked door.

“Can you get me a towel from the closet? I forgot mine.”

You went to grab him a towel and stuck your hand through the door. When you didn’t feel him take the towel from you you got worried.

“Mr. Evans,” you called out.

All of a sudden the door opened and you were face to face with a naked Chris Evans. You kept your wide eyes on his and pushed the towel to his chest.

“Assistant, I need some help getting dry,” you were stumbling over your words, but not for long until Chris pulled you in the bathroom with him and brought your hands up to his chest.

You kept your eyes on him and you dried off his upper body. Chris looked into your eyes with adoration and a hint of lust. This was getting too serious way too fast, you went to pull away, but he grabbed your wrists.

“You know, I meant what I said. You are very pretty,” you gasped.

“Chris,” he pulled you closer until your lips touched. Fuck it. You couldn’t fight this anymore. This gorgeous man wanted you and a part of you wanted this pain in the ass too.

The kiss started slow, but descended into something so raw and animalistic. Your tongues were all over each other’s mouths and your teeth were scraping and hitting together. Chris pushed you up against the bathroom door and moved his lips to your neck.

“So good, wanted you for so fucking long,” he continued to kiss down your neck to the collar of your shirt.

“I want this off, now Y/N,” you gasped again. That was the first time he ever used your real name.

You couldn’t deny his orders, so you happily took off your shirt, bra included, and threw them on the floor. Chris went to praise you for being so good and attacked your sensitive buds.

He scraped, licked, and sucked gently on each nipple, giving him all the attention they deserved. You moaned loudly and he went to kiss you again. He pressed himself into your thigh and started to grind.

“All for you, baby. It’s all for you,” you let out a breathy moan.

“Please, Chris, please, sir. I want it,” Chris growled in response.

His hands began to wander. They rubbed up and down your sides before they inched their way towards your center. Chris took his one hand and put it under your shorts. You whimpered as he went and rubbed your center in teasing strokes.

“Chris, please,” he removed his hand and opened the bathroom door.

“Patience, baby,” Chris picked up your shaking body and carried you throughout the house towards his bedroom.

He kicked opened the door and laid you down on the bed. Chris removed your shorts and stood back to admire your bare body. His thumbs drew small circles around your hips as he looked up at you with dark eyes.

Chris connected his lips with the top of your belly button and started to kiss downwards. He came in contact with your pussy, but wouldn’t kiss it. His lips ghosted yours, his beard was scratching the surrounding area. It seemed as if time had stopped when all of a sudden he attacked your core.

Your hands flew down to his hair and began to pull at the roots. Chris groaned into your pussy as you arched your hips into his mouth. He brought his thumb to your clit and started to rub fast and hard circles. You were so close to cumming, but you could barely form the words.

You tried to tell him, but it felt so good and he was doing all the right things to restrict your speech. The tiny bubble within you had grown bigger and bigger and was going to pop any second. Chris started to thrust two fingers in you while his lips sucked your clit and that’s when it happened.

“Holy fuck,” you looked up with a heaving chest to see Chris’ beard, lips, and fingers soaked. His eyes grew darker as he grabbed your chin and kissed your breath away.

“Fucking squirted all over me baby, how you gonna clean me up?” He nuzzled his face into your neck and started to pepper kisses all over.

You were at a loss for words, but your body was doing all the talking. Your hips started to thrust up into Chris’ thigh and he looked down with a smirk.

“I know you want it, honey. Give me one second,” Chris moved off your body and made his way to his nightstand drawer. He pulled out a condom and rolled it on.

Now, he was back on top of you and drinking you in. You kissed one more time before he lifted your leg over his shoulder and positioned himself at your sensitive entrance.

“You sure?” You shook your head rapidly at his question.

“Yes, get on with it, sir,” he smirked as he entered you.

The stretch hurt, but the pain was replaced with pleasure as he started to thrust. He started off slow, careful not to hurt you, but he was going deeper into your pussy. You cried and slapped his bicep, urging him to go faster.

“If that’s what baby wants, then that’s what baby will get,” and Chris went into overdrive.

You screamed his name and moaned so loud that you were sure the neighbors would hear you. Chris loved hearing those sweet noises and was doing all he could to make them louder. You were reaching a second high, but Chris was still keeping a brutal pace.

“Chris, I’m about to cum.”

“Hold on, sweetheart. We aren’t finished this just yet,” he grabbed your other leg and threw it over his shoulder, attempting a deeper angle.

Chris kissed you with all his might. His tongue evaded your mouth once more and his thrusts were getting faster and faster. A sweat broke out on him and he was getting close.

“Baby, you can let go whenever you want,” a final scream ripped through you as you arched your back and came for the second time.

Chris fucked you even harder through your orgasm. He wanted to fuck your pussy so that it was be sensitive for the next couple days. He wanted you to never forget this moment.

Tears formed in your eyes as he kept going. You were trying to keep up, but your body started to get weak. Chris noticed this and worked faster to get himself to the edge.

When he finally came, it felt as if his eyes had rolled back up into his head. He was sweaty and growing tired, but he didn’t want to leave your pussy yet. He knew he had to because the position you were in was starting to get uncomfortable. Chris finally removed himself and threw the condom out.

He saw your eyes were dropping and quickly picked you up to take you to the bathroom. He let you do your business and went to grab you a bottle of water.

When you came out of the bathroom, with shaky legs, Chris was there with a water bottle by the bedside table and the sheets drawn back waiting for you to get in beside him. You gladly accepted the comfy spot next to him and soon you drifted off to sleep.

When you finally woke up, you felt something heavy weighing down across your abdomen. Your eyes shot up as you looked around a room you didn't recognize. As if right on que, Chris groans beside you and opens his eyes. He smiled and pressed you closer to his body and gave you a sweet kiss to your temple.

“Evening,” Chris buried himself in your hair as you lifted your head to look out the window, confirming it was night.

“What time is it?” your voice was strained.

“Close to 11. Didn’t think we’d be out for this long,” he winked and for a moment you forgot why you were in his bed.

“OH MY GOD,” you gasped and shot up and Chris followed suit.

“WHAT? WHAT’S WRONG?”

“WE HAD SEX!”

“I KNOW I WAS THERE. WHY ARE YOU YELLING?” Chris matched your voice.

“I’M YELLING BECAUSE YOU’RE MY BOSS. I SLEPT WITH MY FUCKING BOSS,” you slammed your head back down on the pillow and buried your face in it. You only lifted your head off the pillow to hear him laughing at you.

“I get why you’re laughing, but I’m not. I’m a slut,” Chris laid back down next to you and pulled you into his arms.

“Hey, hey, you are not a slut. Please don’t think of yourself that way,” he cradled you into his arms.

“I did the one thing that nobody is supposed to do. I shouldn’t have ruined our professional relationship,” you tried to break free from Chris’ hold, but you wouldn’t let you go.

“Listen to me, you did not do anything wrong. I wanted to ask you out for a long time… I just, well, you see-”

“You got piss ass drunk and ruined your plans,” you giggled into his bare chest.

“That’s one way of putting it, yeah,” and he laughed along with you.

“So, I guess this means I should resign now shouldn’t I?”

“Not necessarily no, I still need my assistant.”

“So I get to sleep with you AND be on payroll? Wow, what a dream come true,” Chris laughed some more.

“We don’t have to tell anybody for a while. I’ll help you find a new job so it won’t look so fishy whenever we tell people we are dating.”

“I don’t know, I am gonna miss that fat Christmas bonus I get every year…”

“I think I can think of a way to make up for that,” Chris’ hand was stroking up and down your thigh which made you shudder.

You turned to kiss him as you hummed in agreement. Things started to get hot and heavy once more and soon the sheets were pushed off the bed, Chris was attacking your lower half with kisses. Right when he got to your center, his phone rang.

“You wanna get that for me, Assistant?”

#Chris Evans #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #marvel smut #chris evans one shot #captain america #captain america smut #captain america x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader

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supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years ago

Text

Catching Feelings

Pairings: Marcus Moreno x nanny!reader

Warnings: Smut +18, fluff, angst, mutual pining.

Summary: After your sex filled dream about your new boss, your about to meet his daughter. This isn’t going to be awkward at all, right?!

*As always comments and reblogs appreciated*

Chapter 2:

The evening arrived sooner than anticipated. As the car that Marcus had sent round for you pulled into the drive, you find yourself gaping at the beautiful rustic home. You get out of the car and make your way to the front door, your nervous, which isn't helped by the fact you had illicit thoughts about Marcus last night. Oh god! Those hands and the thought of them slipping between your legs. No! Focus. You ring the door bell. Your lost in thought when a voice startles you

"Oh thank god your here, come in quick. Can you cook?"

"Uh.....yeah I'm not bad at it. I make a mean chicken alfredo"!

"Fuck.....sorry sorry.....Missy I didn't just say that."

“Is everything ok?”I say looking towards the kitchen. Missy grabs me by the hand and pulls along. I’m greeted to the sight of pure chaos. Marcus is hunched over the sink, seemingly in defeat and I can’t help myself I let out a laugh. He turns around with lightening speed, his hand goes to scratch the back of his head. Something he must do when he’s nervous. I catch a tinge of pink on his face.

“He’s a disaster in the kitchen, seriously you should see what he does to eggs.” I turn to Missy

“Ok, here’s the plan. How about me and you clean up this mess and then you can help me cook something up?” Shrugging her shoulders she says “sure.”

“Uh.. I will just..”

I turn to Marcus “ you….will go relax and we will call when foods ready.”

“Are you sure, I feel bad.”

“Dad just go.”

Holding his hands up in defeat “ ok ok, I know where I’m not wanted.” With Marcus gone Missy turns to you “ok let’s get to it.”

***

With the kitchen clean you fish out the ingredients to do your chicken Alfredo, explaining each step to Missy as you go.

“Is it always this chaotic at dinner or was that just for my benefit you say with humour in your voice. Missy let’s out a snort.

“Oh no that’s pretty much how it around here. My mom. Used to do the coming and since she’s gone dad tries his best but… I don’t know. My abuela normally cooks.” You see she is getting sad talking about her mom so you change the subject.

“Ok looks ready, give your dad a shout”

You all sat together around the table. “This is delicious, you are amazing.”

“Oh …thank you”

“Missy is right, this is the best meal I’ve had in a long time, really thank you. Also maybe don’t tell my mom I just said that.” You laugh at the fact that this grown man, and a heroic no less is still afraid of mom. Catching his eyes, his gaze is searing into you, you look away quickly trying to distract yourself . Standing you go to clear the table but are stopped with a hand on your wrist. Looking up you meet those warm brown eyes again. “No, you’ve done more than enough tonight. Leave all the cleaning to me and Missy.You can go sit in my study and I’ll bring you a glass of wine. Oh it’s just down the end of the hall.”

“Um… ok thank you.” Once you arrive into his study you can’t help but notice all the pictures he has. One in particular catches your eye. It’s one of Marcus kissing his wife the day Missy was born.

“I love that picture.” You jump slightly having not expected him to be there. “ I’m sorry I wasn’t snooping I just..”

“It’s ok, if your going to be living here you should know about our family.” You look up at him surprised “does that mean I got the job?”

“You we’re amazing tonight” he says moving closer, so close you can feel the warmth coming off his body. “Plus you have the Missy deal of approval, which really is the most important thing.” It’s as if she knew her name has been mentioned. She came bustling down the stairs all kitted out for bed. She comes up to you and without eating wraps you in a hug.

“I’m so happy your going to be living here with us, and thank you again for the nice food.” With that she ran back up the stairs to bed. Marcus gestures for you to sit.

“You have a beautiful home” you say looking around the room.

“It is…beautiful.” Clearing his throat he takes a seat beside you, leaving a comfortable amount of space between you. Your not sure if your relieved or disappointed. You make conversation by asking him about his wife. He takes a sip of wine before he speaks.

“It’s been four years since she passed. It was a car accident, drunk driver, she died instantly. He suddenly go quiet and stares at the floor like it’s the most fascinating thing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned her.” “It’s ok, it’s only fair you know these things. Enough about me, tell me what makes you thick?”

“Me, oh gosh. I suppose family really. It’s why I jumped at this opportunity, I love children. It’s probably why I want a big family of my own one day.” He’s looking at you that way again. There’s something behind his eyes, you think it’s admiration.

“ I feel the exact same way. Everything that I do, it’s for Missy. Nothing else matters.”

“She’s a wonderful kid, you should be really proud.”

“Thank you.” Your suddenly aware that you both have somehow moved closer and your breath catches when you look into those brown eyes. A bolt of confidence course through you and you lean towards him. Marcus mimics your actions. As you inch closer you close your eyes. He whispers your name and you can’t tell if it’s a promise or a warning. Your still dreaming when he spills his wine all over you. “I’m so sorry here let me get something to dry that up” he’s says as he leaves the rooms be arrives back with a towel, and a change of clothes. “ I’m afraid this is all I have.” You look down to the clothes he has and notice there his own, a t shirt.

“No, thank you these are perfect.” With that he leaves you to change while he goes and refills the wine. When he walks back in he almost drops the glasses. His eyes rake over your body and he feels himself getting hard his thick cock straining in his pants. Seeing you there in his clothes is doing things to him. It’s making him almost feral. He wants to posses you. He is brought out of his thought when you move to take the glass from him.

***

You spend hours chatting getting to know each other when you look at his clock. “Oh god, I better go, I didn’t realise the time”. You go to stand.

“You can stay, I mean here, in the spare room, if you want?” Thinking it over for just a moment “that would be great actually.”

“Ok I can show you where to go.” As you enter the room you see a large king size bed, and the images from your dream flood your mind.

“I want you to ride me baby.”

“Y/N?”

“Sorry did you say something?” “ I said you can start moving your stuff in whenever you like.”

“Brilliant.”

Your unconsciously biting your lip and when you meet his gaze you notice his eyes are fixed on your mouth. You run your tongue along the bottom lip,knowing he is watching you. He clears his throat “ok uh…I guess I’ll let you get settled for the night”. He makes to leave when you say

“You could stay here too!” He stops suddenly turning to look at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. Afraid you have ruined everything you say “I’m so sorry, forget I said anything, thank you again…” Your rambling is cut short as his presses his lips to your hungrily. His hands trace the curve of your body, slipping under your top to grab your breast. You let out a moan. Suddenly he pulls away and rests his head to yours. “Are you sure you want this, I won’t be able to stop once we start.” “I’ve thought of nothing else since we met yesterday. Please Marcus, I need you to fuck me.”

He wastes no time and pushes you onto the bed removing the sweatpants he lent you earlier along with the t-shirt. Your laying on the bed in nothing but your underwear and he can’t take his eyes off you. “Your gorgeous.” “Marcus you have too many clothes on” you say with a slight pout. Stripping himself so he is completely bare before you,you gulp as you take in his thick cock. Will that even fit! He crawls on top of you and you moan when his obvious desire for your comes in contact with your core. You rock against him. He rolls onto his back pulling you with him so you are now straddling him. His hands run up and down your spine sending sparks of electricity through you. He moves to unclasp your bra “you won’t be needing this anymore.” Your nipples grow hard as they meet the cool air and you let out a gasp as he runs his tongue over its peak. Your growing inpatient now so you quickly remove your thong and line him up at your entrance. Slowly you sink down on him and his head pushes back into the pillow as he groans in pleasure. “Jesus, your so fucking tight.” You pick up your pace as you ride him letting out a loud moan. He puts a hand over your mouth “you gotta be…quiet…don’t….want…Missy..to…hear us” He look down to where your joined watching as his cock moves in and out of you “this pussy was made for me, isn’t that right baby?” Your unable to speak as your body is thrown into ecstasy. Without warning he flips you over and begins pounding into. He can feel his balls tighten as he nears his release. “Where…do ..you want..me?” “Inside, I’m clean and on the pill.” With that he fills you up, you can feel his release dripping out of you. He moves off you and makes his way into the bathroom. Arriving back with a cloth to clean you up. He gets back into bed beside you and wraps his arm around your waist. “That is not how I pictured tonight going at all.” You laugh “me either.” “You should get some sleep” he says and you feel your eyes getting heavy as you give in to the tiredness.

The next morning you wake to sunlight shining on your face. As you turn over you realise your alone. You put your hand on the side Marcus was and it’s cold, meaning he’s gone a while. You flop back onto the bed and put your hand on your forehead. Oh god what have I done.

Previous/next

Tagging:

@lunaserenade , @asta-lily , @maievdenoir , @librariantothejedi , @seasonschange-butpeopledont , @elinedjarin , @day-off-inkyoto @toomanystoriessolittletime

If you want to be added or removed please let me know.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #marcus moreno x female reader

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kickingitwithkirk · 4 years ago

Text

Greetings from Austin pt. III

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

WC: 3825

Warnings: a/b/o, bisexuality, biphobia, homophobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, married life/disagreements, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility/surrogacy

*flirting, m/m oral sex, Jensen’s insecurities are coming out, Jared gets arrested, both get counseling

A/N: This part consists of several time jumps over four month period.

A/N II: Hey, sorry took me a way longer to get done than planned, rewrote Oct 23 a dozen times alone and hoping makes sense, trying to flesh out characters more and has some stuff that plays into story line in later parts.

Part II

Masterlist

@winchesterandbeyondbingo square filled-Jensen Ackles

*Series Inspired by this art.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

September 8th

7:30 am

Jensen was sitting in the makeup chair clenching his extra strong coffee container to help warm his hands. He’d spent a second, uncomfortable night in his trailer on location as Vancouver was having an unusual cold snap this time of year and with the covid restrictions the director decided that everyone needed to stay on site.

While he wasn’t happy about the weather, missing his own personal heater but at the same time grateful for a brief break from Jared now that they were heading towards the next phase of starting their family.

Jensen jokingly said they needed a code name since they were planning on keeping their plans a secret, even from their families, until the pups were born, playfully suggesting a cartoon from their childhoods.

Of course with Jared’s weird sense of humor, he loved it and started throwing ideas like operation: pound puppies.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Frieda said as she applied a concealer under his eyes to hide the dark smudges from not sleeping well.

“Huh?”

“You asked about my new job and haven’t heard anything I’ve said, wanna talk about it?”

“Sorry, not focusing very well today.”

“Yeah, we’re all feeling out of sorts with this being the last couple days.”

Jensen couldn’t believe he was down to his last two days of filming.

“Too bad this virus messed everything up, it would’ve been a hell of a send off if everybody could have been here.”

Alex and Misha had left right after they’d finished but Jim Beaver was back for the ending. It was only right for Bobby Singer to be there at the end, having been such a pivotal character in the brothers lives.

Frieda continues chatting about random things while finishing his makeup. A PA stuck his head in calling Jensen to the set. He stepped out of the trailer and smiled seeing his Baby sitting near the building being used as the exterior of Harvelle's Roadhouse.

***

September 12th

“Jen, I’m taking out the bags,” Jared calls out seconds before the apartment's front door shut.

Jensen was doing one last check around the place for any forgotten anything. Satisfied, he walked into the living room containing neatly marked boxes ready to be shipped back to Texas, relieved they had downsized from the big house Jared had years ago.

He stopped to gaze out the picture window when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, molding his back to the muscular chest of his mate, who rested his chin on his shoulder quietly saying, “I’m gonna miss this view.” Jensen hummed in agreement tipping his head back as Jared nuzzled his neck.

“We need to get going if we’re gonna make Seattle by seven,” Jared softly muttered as they’d stood there for a few heartbeats longer before releasing him. They walked to the door and Jensen turned once more to gaze out the window at the view of Vancouver.

***

September 21st

“This has been a great trip but man, I’ll be glad to be in our own bed tonight.” Jared remarks as they drive past a green highway sign saying Austin 312.

“Can’t wait,” Jensen drowsily says having not slept much the last couple days. They had decided to road trip it back to Texas, stopping at a few places they had wanted to visit for awhile.

Jared somehow managed to finagal, okay so his mind numbing blow job combined with those lethal long fingers that always makes Jensen agree to anything got him a couple extra days in southern Colorado.

Jensen enjoyed the beautiful scenery and hiking in the mountains but hated camping out. Well, it wasn’t technically roughing it the way Jared liked but still.. a frigging yurt in late September?

Oy vay, what he did for love.

The sound of Jared singing along to some classic country song on the radio as he drove finally put Jensen completely out.

***

October 23rd

Turning from the open fridge with a puzzled expression on his face, Jared senses the same vague something he’s felt God knows how many times in the last couple months.

Shutting the door he walked over to the island counter where his husband was seated pushing his unfinished dinner around on his plate.

“Jen, what’s going on? Are you worried about the implantation? Dr. Rodgers said the embryos were healthy and optimistic the surrogate took this first try.”

What Jensen wants to ask, the question that’s plagued him since that day in August choosing their Omega surrogate...how the hell does he phrase it without upsetting Jared?

“Did you choose her because you knew she’d be the one I’d pick?”

Jensen slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide, disbelieving he blurted it out.

Jared worked to find a response squeaking an actual squeak before he could get control over his vocals, “That’s what I’ve been sensing!” Gripping the edge of the counter with his big hands, “Are you seriously going there again? I was honest about our interactions when I realized she was the one I knocked down at the clinic and FYI, you weren’t exactly in full control either Alpha!��

Jensen clenched his teeth at being reminded his inner need to be in control at all times slipped.

“I’ve racked my brains trying to figure it out how to ask something like that without upsetting you!” Jensen yells getting up and pacing around the kitchen.

Jared huffed, “So all this time instead of talking to me, you’ve conjured up some..”

“For the last two years I’ve gotten the sense you feel somethings missing, kept telling myself it’s your unfulfilled biology. But ever since you meet that Omega you’ve been.. I can’t explain it and now I’m second guessing our marriage Ja....” his rant abruptly cut off.

Jared’s eyes were glowing red, pinning him with an eerie wolf expression, the intensity disconcerting him. “I chose you, my husband, my soulmate, my everything!“ The words should have been reassuring but Jared’s voice was pitiless, something Jensen's never heard pass from his lips before.

Jared took a deep breath and with normalcy returning said, “I love you Jensen and I thought you understood, for me, in my mind, both of us having pups with the same donor means my offspring won’t be seen as just step relations but will grow up having strong familial ties with JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin.”

Jensen started to speak when a low, reverberating growl from Jared warning him not to interrupt.

“I consciously listened to my inner wolf when it came to choosing the person who is biologically the Om of our children and I,” Jared emphasizes tapping his chest with his long index finger, ”have no regrets but apparently you do.” Taking a deep breath Jared drops a non sequitur, ”The dogs need to be fed,” and walks away.

At the sound of Jared’s SUV leaving Jensen’s legs gave out and he drops to the floor curling up in a fetal position wrapping his arms over his head. Arlo and Koda laid down, one on each side, cocooning him between them.

***

Thanksgiving

“The kids are in a tryptophan coma,” Jensen announces as he walks in through the kitchen's back door. He had followed Danneel home afterwards helping get JJ and the twins cleaned up and put to bed, “they’ll be out till Monday.”

“Good, cause I’m dead on my feet,” Jared replies yawning while loading the dishwasher. It had been their turn to host the holiday with Danneel, the kids, Clif, Jared’s siblings and their broods.

“I told you to wait and I’d help finish the cleanup when I got back.” Jensen said as Jared started the machine.

“I figured you’d wanna stay awhile and be too tired and I didn’t want to deal with it tomorrow. All that’s left is to put the trash and recycling out, could you grab it?”

“On it,” Jensen picked up the bags walking around the side of the house dropping them into their designated receptacles.

When he came back in Jared was switching off the lights downstairs. They made their way up to the bedroom taking turns in the bath getting ready for bed.

Jensen was sitting with his back against the headboard checking his messages when Jared drops heavily next to him, “I plan on sleeping for the next three days.” He mutters resting his head against Jensen’s shoulder.

“Sounds good to me babe, I’m glad we didn’t schedule anything extra this weekend, be nice to spend some time alone.” He finishes wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hmm, do you remember last year's Thanksgiving?”

Jared closed the kitchen pantries door, pushing Jensen against it seductively lowering his fox slanted eyes huskily whispering, “I’m so fucking horny I need my dick you now.”

“Dude, we’re re in my sisters...“

“..you’ll have to be quiet,” Jared dove in for a deep, dirty kiss, grinding against Jensen until he was begging to be fucked.

“You’re the one who got us busted..oh fuck Jensen..so fucking tight..fuck..not gonna last..then later I get Mac saying it sounded like your dick...”

“Okay..buuut,” Jared tilts his head slowly running his tongue up the column of Jensen’s neck, “you gotta admit,” hand slipping under his sleep shirt, “our sex life,” long fingers tip toe up the smooth, freckled chest, pads teasing his left nipple as Jared nibbles on his earlobe, ”is never boring.”

Jensen groans, dropping his arm, still clinching the phone, tipping his head to expose more of his neck to Jared’s wondrous lips, enjoying the scratch of his short beard.

“I thought you were sleeping the next three days.”

Jared answers by removing his hand and straddling his husband's thick thighs taken the phone placing it on the nightstand and starts nibbling along the other side of Jensen’s sensitive neck, working his way to his slightly raised claim mark flattening his tongue licking the ultra sensitive spot that always drives his Alpha wild.

Jensen slides his hands up Jared’s back finding a grip in his shortened hair, unhappy about how much he’s cut off for Walker, unable to tangle his thick fingers into the soft tresses like he used to.

Finding a purchase he pulls hard making Jared groan at the pleasurable sensation tips his head back till it’s the perfect angle for Jensen to run his tongue across those candy pink lips, teasing them open to grant him access, continues teasing, alternating between caressing Jared’s tongue with his and sucking on his lips.

Moaning, Jared rocks his hips seeking friction, breaks their kissing long enough to work Jensen's sleep shirt off. They end up wrestling a few moments before Jared tosses it as Jensen’s lips attack his more desperately.

Tapping Jared’s thigh, Jensen rolls them kneeling between sleep pant clad legs watching as Jared reaches up gripping the strategically placed bar in their custom made headboard with both hands, his pecs flexing in anticipation of what’s to come.

Not breaking eye contact Jensen bends forward, his lips a hair's breadth from Jared’s, slowly slides backwards hovering, caressing the acres of golden skin beneath him with only his warm breath, pausing to hook his fingers in the pants waistband and pulling them with him as he continues journeying south.

Slowly making his way back north he leaves wet, open mouth kisses along the now naked, extra long, muscular legs he loves, sucking on the insides of both thighs, nipping hard enough to leave marks before arriving at his designated stop.

He hasn’t even touched Jared’s beautiful cock yet it’s fully engorged, resting against his flat stomach vigorously leaking precome. Jensen dips his tongue into his bellybutton lapping up the liquid collecting in it, cause fuck, he’s loves how more sweet than salty Jared’s always tasted.

Hips rolling Jared rubs his cockhead against Jensen’s tongue and he kitten licks the dribbling slit before resting his head on Jared’s lower stomach and wrapping his lips around the velvety head.

Shifting his grip on the bar Jared’s makes nonsensical noises, toes curling at the mixed sensations of his mates silky beard tickling his lower regions while sucking on his cockhead, alternates swirling his tongue over the nerves underneath and teasing his slit sending spikes of pleasure radiating through him.

After all these years Jared’s still amazed at Jensen’s knowledge of his body, his ability to keep him on the edge of not enough for however long he’s in the mood to play.

“..pleease...need to cum...got to..so fucking..uhh..Alpha!”

Raising up on a forearm Jensen starts bobbing up and down his shaft, pausing briefly on each downward pass, working his throat open to take Jared further in until he’s nose deep in dark, trimmed pubic hair. Holding his mate's substantial cock in his throat swallows around him as Jared’s knot inflates, pushing his jaws apart till it’s too much.

Letting the knot slip out from between his plump lips Jensen wraps a hand firmly around it and starts vigorously bobbing drawing out a litany of obscene noises, feels Jared’s balls drawing up and backs off swallowing the warm, thick, spurting liquid.

Leisurely licking until Jared hissed, too sensitive for anymore kisses the tip one last time crawls back up the bed searching for his pillow and face plants on it.

“Dude, you’ve finally sucked out my last brain cell.”

Purring deep in his chest, Jensen gives Jared a self satisfied smirk, who mutters, “wasn’t trying to give you a bigger head.”

Rolling onto his side Jensen displays his turgid cock needing attention, “okay, he’s the bigger head,” Jared concedes reaching down running his fingers over the weeping tip, wetting them with precome spreads it over the shaft firmly fisting Jensen’s pulsing thickness, moving his hand up and down excruciatingly slowly.

“So,” his honeyed voice lowers an octave watching Jensen dissolving into a breathy mess, “how does he want me?”

Jensen opens his mouth to answer when a phone rings. Glaring over his shoulder, “not mine,” he growls. Still stroking him Jared stretches for his, “it’s the clinic..hello? Dr. Rodgers, hey, how are you sir?” He lets go sitting up against the headboard.

Why’s the doctor calling them at such an odd time, on a holiday no less?

Jared's brow wrinkles before he turns to Jensen, eyes sparkling breaks out his wondrous smile making his dimples pop.

“Jensen, she’s pregnant!”

Jared's practically bouncing on their bed like he’s on a massive sugar high discussing what comes next with the doctor. Jensen feels his erection rapidly diminishing, gets up heading into the bath and turns on the shower.

Climbing in he crosses his arms against the far wall, resting his forehead against them closing his eyes as hot water bounces across his broad shoulders.

Jensen knows he should be elated. Jared’s getting the pup (or pups) he’s desired for years and the possibility of being a father himself again. Instead, his heart seized up in conflict.

***

After that god awful argument in October he ended up at Josh’s, who confessed his mate and him were seeing a counselor because they were having marital issues too. Spending the night drinking and reflecting Jensen came home the next morning to a still angry Jared cause he didn’t know where the fuck his husband was all night.

Filling him in about his talk with Josh, Jared seemed somewhat mollified but a few nights later...

Walker star Jared Padalecki arrested near the one year anniversary of Stereotype bar altercation.

· Jared Padalecki was arrested once again in Austin, Texas, early Sunday morning on one count of public intoxication…

When he got released Jared sat Jensen down pleading with him to sit in on his next therapy session, saying they couldn’t keep going on like this, it was tearing him apart.

He wants..no..needs Jensen to completely open up, stop trying to protect him and discuss what’s going on in his head, what he’s really feeling.

Jared’s therapist started off informing both of them he wasn’t a marriage counselor but after a brief conversation with Jared knew the situation was having a detrimental impact on his mental health.

He listened to them separately, then together, about their observations and thoughts on each other’s behaviors came up with a hypothesis:

Since Jared’s last depressive episode, his random thoughts/emotions were feeding more into Jensen’s deep seated insecurities over his mate’s open, flirtatious personality and how he perceives others attraction/interactions to him.

And now Jared’s inner wolf is demonstrating an intense attraction to an Omega, something never encountered before with past preferences in Beta females, with this new dynamic Jensen didn’t know how to handle it.

Jensen opened and closed his mouth several times sputtering before saying this was complete bullshit and stormed out.

***

Lost in thought Jensen didn’t notice his husband stepping into the open shower stall until his considerable frame was blocking the water, Jared’s voice drew him out of his musings.

“I can hear you thinking clear in the other room.”

Cupped Jensen’s face between his large hands he gazed into those spring colored eyes that captured his heart the moment he looked into them years ago, “Hey, no matter what happens next, we’re good.”

***

December 16th

Jared was sitting in his chair chatting with Lindsey and Keegan while the crew was finishing setting up for the next scene when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number but excuses himself, stepping away for some privacy answering.

“Hey, everything okay?” Lindsay asked after he hung up, concerned by the visible tension rolling off the big Alpha.

“Umm..I don’t know, I need to make another call...” Jared said, waving the phone, “yeah, let us know if you need anything.” Keegan says and Jared nodded his thanks.

The phone rang three times, “Hey Clif, I need a favor.”

***

December 19th

Clif pulled the SUV into the parking lot, “Are you sure this is the right place?” Jared inquires looking around taking in the old motel located in a very questionable area of Austin.

“This is the name the guy mentioned.” Clif replied, getting out heading for the office. Couple minutes later he climbed back in, “the manager said the laundry out back.” He started the vehicle and drove to the rear of the property.

Clif got out again and knocked on the building's door. An older Hispanic woman answered engaging him in a brief conversation before stepping back inside.

Clif nodded to Jared and as he got out of the vehicle that piquant scent hit him seconds before the door reopened. The person he’d spent days searching for froze in the doorway upon seeing him.

***

December 22nd

Jensen, claiming out of the Uber, grabbed his bag thanking the driver, walked up the front stone pathway relieved to be home from L. A. after a hopefully final costume fitting for his new role as Soldier Boy, this flying back and forth every week for the last couple months had gotten old real quick and he was looking forward to enjoying the holidays at home.

Jared’s parents were coming tomorrow and staying for a few days as was Danneel and their pups. Josh said he was still planning on dropping by a few hours Christmas Day since he and Mac were scheduled to spend most of the holiday with their parents.

Jensen felt that mixture of anger and sadness he got thinking about his parents. He was raised in their church and though he never believed in it, respected their choice.

Too bad they couldn’t reciprocate.

***

Alan and Donna belonged to an ultra conservative church. The foundations of child rearing was to be found in the good book and in the Ackles household-spare the rod, spoil the child-was gospel.

When they were growing up neither parent was the physically or emotionally demonstrative type, only showing their offspring a reserved affection, especially in public.

The saving grace was their Beta nanny who gave them unconditional love, especially Jensen, who was shy as a child already knowing he was different from his siblings. She instilled the confidence in them to discover who they truly were inside and encouraged Jensen to come out before moving to California.

Shortly after graduating he told his family about his bisexuality and his boyfriend was moving to L.A. with him.

Alan and Donna tried to stop him. He was to go to their pastor and confess his transgressions, beg forgiveness for his sins against the church and its teachings, threatening to pull the agreed upon six month financial support while he auditioned for parts before going to college if it didn’t work out.

Jensen refused, packed up, took his boyfriend and left. He got his first break shortly after and quickly learned Hollywood didn’t care what his sexual orientation was as long as he kept it behind closed doors.

His management agency decided early on to promote Jensen as the good guy/boyfriend type. They also set him up on dates to events with many up and coming female artists of the time. He had no problem playing along when he wasn’t actually dating a woman.

His big break came on the CW. After co-starring in a couple series for the network he was offered the chance to be a lead in a new series created by Eric Kripke.

At the audition he met former Gilmore Girls heartthrob, Jared Padalecki, flashing his infectious smile, dimples for days and the most beautiful, incredible color shifting eyes Jensen’s ever seen, he was done for.

Jensen might not have his biological parents in his life anymore but his now in-laws, the complete opposite of the Ackles, helped fill that hole.

It’s easy to see where Jared’s personality comes from. His Om, Sherrie, is overly affectionate, excessively physical and verbal with everyone she considers family, biological or not.

The first time he accompanied Jared home on a holiday break Jensen was literally bowled over by the five foot nothing Omega and instantly became part of her brood.

***

Barley getting the front door open Jensen is hit with the piquant scent of orange blossoms and spices he couldn’t quite place.

Dropping his carry-on bag in the foyer he followed the scent further into the house. Arlo sat up near the large picture windows facing the backyard where he and Koda are napping and gets up coming over to greet him.

“Hey big guy, where’s daddy at?” Jensen asked rubbing around his ears like he liked having thought Jared would still be on set before the holiday break.

He heads towards the kitchen where the scent seems to be coming from, “Babe is that coffee shop back open, what’s it called, has those sweet rolls you're obsessed with..” he abruptly stopped and blinks not believing what was in front of him.

More accurately who was in front of him.

“Babe is in his office and dinner will be ready in twenty.”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

***

tbc

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

SPN: @donnaintx @lyarr24

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

#jensen ackles #jared padalecki #j2 husbands #winchesterandbeyondbingo #alpha!jensen ackles #alpha!jared padalecki #alpha!jensenxalpha!jaredxomega!ofc #j2 au #j2 fanfic #j2alphas #a/b/o ofc #spn #supernatural #slow burn

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buckyandbowties · 4 years ago

Text

His Secret Lover (Bucky x Reader)

Summary: You’ve liked Bucky for a while, but unknown to you - he has a secret girlfriend he’s been dating for the past three years.

Warnings: Angst, kinda unrequited feelings/love

Prompt: “I have to get something off my chest.” “I hope it’s your shirt, please let it be your shirt.”

Word count: 1506

Authors Notes: Something a little angsty.

It was no secret to you or your teammates that you were head over heels in love with Bucky Barnes. His sweet demeanor always meant he was approachable and friendly and you considered him to be one of your closest friends. Hell, even Bucky himself knew of your obvious crush but for some reason, he always turned your advances down gently.

The two of you shared secrets with one another - as far as you were concerned, there was no stone left unturned in your lives. You were as close as you could possibly be, so it kind of did confuse you as to why he wasn’t returning your feelings. He didn’t have to, you knew that, but his lingering touches or hugs he pulled you into and lasted longer than necessary made you think he did like you at least a little bit.

“I’m sure he likes Y/N.” you heard Wanda say in the kitchen. You shook your head, silently agreeing with her as you eavesdropped on their conversation from around the corner. “He’s always looking at her with those puppy eyes.” She added. Nervously, you brought your thumb nail up to your lip, eager to see what else they would say when they didn’t know you were around. “Something seems off with him though, he’s always gone on weekends and some evenings he doesn’t get back until 4AM.”

That was a good point - it was also something you realized. During your sleepless nights, you would often patrol the long hallway on his floor and some nights sneak in when you needed comfort after a nightmare to find his bed cold and empty. It was definitely weird since he would appear the next morning and act like he had been here the entire night.

What was he hiding?

“Maybe he has a girlfriend.” Sam joked, which caused your breath to hitch in your throat at the thought. You really liked Bucky a whole lot and the thought of him with someone else wasn’t sitting too well with you. “Hmmm, possibly!” Clint’s agreement gnawed at your chest, like something inside of you was desperate to break free. “I mean, the guy hasn’t had sex in centuries and I know he’s interested in this stuff.” Sam added and as much as you hated to admit it, this whole topic was bothering you.

They were wrong, you were sure of it. They had to be wrong, Bucky is single and there is no way he would keep this from you, right? You shook your head and quietly retreated from the room and headed straight to the elevator. You punched the button, acting as if it would call down the elevator any quicker, which it didn’t and at this point, it might have been a better option to take the stairs. Once it finally did decide to do as it was told, you stepped inside and again, punched the number to Bucky’s floor a couple of times.

The elevator dinged, announcing the arrival to the floor and the doors slid open. You marched down to Bucky’s room with a final plan in motion, determination on your face to prove your teammates wrong. When you neared his door, it was slightly ajar and he was inside.

“Yeah, I can’t wait either…” he chuckled to someone, it sounded as if he was talking on the phone, probably to Steve? Maybe that was it, he couldn’t wait for the next mission. With that reason accepted in your mind, you knocked on his door. “Uhh I gotta go, I’ll call you later okay? Yeah me too, love you too, bye!”

Excuse me, ‘love you too’?

“Come in!” He called, putting his cellphone on his nightstand. He was folding up his clean laundry when you stepped in his tidy room, which you’ve only just realized has a lot more furniture in it now.

“Bucky, hi.” you spoke meekly but still determined to prove your teammates wrong about their theories.

“Hey doll, you okay?” He flashed you his million dollar smile and you swore you could have melted right into a puddle in the middle of his room.

“Yes, I’m great! I was wondering if you maybe wanted to grab some dinner tonight? I have no plans so…” you chuckled but looked at him hopefully. You watched his eyebrows furrow and his fingers scratching the back of his neck - something he did if he was nervous or thinking.

This definitely wasn’t a good sign.

“Uh, tonight I can’t. I actually have some plans.” he smiled regrettably.

“Oh? With Steve?”

“Uh yeah, with Steve, look...” your heart dropped into your stomach because you knew Steve was actually on a mission, he left yesterday morning and wasn’t due back until next week. “Y/N?” Bucky snapped his fingers in your face to gain your attention.

“What?” Bucky stepped back by your sudden outburst, truthfully you were just tired of the secrets. He was clearly hiding something, or someone, and then lying to your face like your feelings didn’t even matter. Even if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings or crush, he was still your friend and friends don’t lie.

“I said-”

“Did I do something wrong Buck? You know, if you didn’t want to spend time with me just say so, you don’t need to lie to me.” you scoffed, cutting him off mid sentence.

“Y/N, I’m not lying.”

“Yes you are. You and I both know Steve is away on a mission until next week… unless you’re hiding a clone in your closet. I want to know what’s going on! If you don’t want to be friends anymore, fine, just tell me!” Regret and a lot of other emotions flashed across his features as he took in each word you said.

“You’re right, I’m so sorry doll. Look, I have to get something off my chest.” Bucky started to pace the room as he prepared himself for the bombshell he was about to drop on you. He of course knew from the beginning about your crush on him and he thought it was cute, that you were cute but his heart belonged to someone else and even if he was single, he wouldn’t want to risk fucking it up with you.

“Oh god, please Bucky. I hope it’s your shirt, please let it be your shirt.” He cracked a small smile but it quickly dropped.

“I uhm..I’m actually with someone and I have been for the past few years.” Bucky watched your face contour from confusion to hurt and he wondered if he made the right decision in telling you this.

“What? I don’t understand this. Why didn’t you tell me instead of making me look like an idiot each time I asked you out? Or did you just enjoy rejecting me?”

“I definitely did not enjoy rejecting you doll it’s just, this job, the team, it was too dangerous and I was scared of losing my one fucking friend that I can rely on the most that it never occurred to me to tell you.”

“This… you’re lying Bucky. You’re single! You have to be!” Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as hurt consumed you, hurt because your best friend couldn’t trust you enough to confide in you. “You’re lying because if you had told me at the beginning I would have understood and it’s too long… there is no way you could have kept her hidden for all these years.”

“I’m not lying Y/N and I’m not single. She’s actually on the team.”

Oh dear god… you prayed someone, anyone, would just come and punch your heart out of your chest.

“Who is it.” Your question came out more as a demand than a question itself. Bucky took a step towards you, and you took one step back creating as much distance as possible. You were right, if Bucky had told you in the beginning you might have understood but now he’s sure to lose one of his closest friends.

“It doesn’t matter Y/N.” He said, “Just please don’t treat me any differently, I still want and need you as a friend, don’t let this change that please.”

“Is it Wanda?” You asked, ignoring his pleas. He shook his head no and dropped his gaze to his carpet and you prodded more. “Natasha?” His eyes immediately flicked to yours and you had your answer.

These two, under the same roof. And Natasha was on the mission with Steve. They hid their relationship really well and it even fooled you. Your breath hitched, a hard lump forming in your throat that was difficult to swallow back down. You had to get out of here, away from bucky, away from this compound.

“Y/N pleas-”

“Thanks for your friendship.” You said quickly before getting the hell out of there. The moment you stepped out of his room, the air became less restricted. But the second you closed the door behind you, tears and emotions overtook your senses and you felt angry and ashamed.

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kinncman · 4 years ago

Text

A LIST OF PLOTLESS TOWN RP-FRIENDLY CHARACTER IDEAS & CONNECTIONS INSPIRED BY MOVIES! (PART 2)

once again, you can obviously spin any of this in any way (platonic, romantic, familial) etc, and not all of these are the exact plots of the movies they are referencing so pls don’t @ me i am but a lowly translator of ideas.

click here for part one.

content warnings for: drugs, food, hospital, light implications to a toxic former relationship

THE LAKE HOUSE // basically, the lake house except nobody is a ghost and everyone is from the same year <3 muse a is an architect who has been living in The House they built. for reasons utp, they are forced to sell it. muse b is the buyer. muse a can’t let go of the house so even though the title has been transferred to muse b, they keep making excuses to visit The House.

LIGHT SLEEPER // muse a is a former drug addict whose job is delivering drugs to high-profile clients. muse b is their ex and also a former drug addict, with whom their relationship fell out bc of the drug abuse. they coincidentally meet again in a hospital when muse a visits a regular client of their boss who OD’d and muse b’s mother is in for chemo/other intense procedures. muse a and muse b reconnect. they both confess that they are now clean and sober. muse b doesn’t believe muse a since muse a admits that they still work for their old boss, but muse a insists that they haven’t used in years. muse b, on the other hand, is a successful business person who’s really cleaned up their act and is nothing like the person muse a knew before (i.e. a Mess TM). despite the feelings that they hold towards muse b, muse a knows that they should keep their distance since they are the reason that muse b started using in the first place and they wouldn’t want to throw any progress away. HOWEVER, fate seems to keep bringing them together in the most inconvenient places and when they least expect it the most; they allow themselves to indulge in old habits (sex, not drugs) even tho they know they’re totally bad for each other. just when they’re starting to become regular fixtures in each other’s lives again, muse b disappears for weeks on end. as it turns out, they were the one who was never clean and sober to begin with.

PHANTOM THREAD // muse a is a highly-renowned fashion designer / artist / photographer who meets muse b and decides that they want them to be their muse (after already having had a string of former muses). being invisible all their life, muse b accepts this new role— however, to muse a’s dismay, they are nothing like any muse they’ve had before in that instead of having their muse wrapped around their finger, muse b has them wrapped around theirs. great for exploring shifting power dynamics!

GRAY MATTERS // (originally a familial and queer relationship but hey whatever floats your boat) muse a and muse b are siblings (or best friends could work, too). muse a gets engaged to muse c and muse b is their maid-of-honor / best man. because muse c and muse b are the two most important people in muse a’s lives, muse a makes them spend the week before the wedding together bUT OOPS muse b realizes that they have feelings for muse c and they share a drunken kiss which muse c instantly forgets about in the morning??? which is #awkward because 1) MUSE C IS MUSE A’S SPOUSE-TO-BE and 2) MUSE B NEVER REALIZED THAT THEY’RE NOT STRAIGHT. so now they’re trying to deal with coming to terms with this newfound attraction that never thought they could have with the same sex on top of trying to decide whether or not to remind muse c of what they did that one night (since they seem to have zERO recollection) and come clean to their sibling / best friend.

LONG SHOT // muse a works for muse b, who is a very powerful exec / influential artist / whatever. muse a is very much infatuated by muse b, who thinks that they are way out of muse a’s league. muse a reveals that muse b used to come over to muse a’s house to babysit them (because lbr, even tho the the age gap might not be that much, a 14 yr-old will be paid to watch over a 10 yr old). what happens from there?

VELVET BUZZSAW // muse a and muse b are rival art curators / music producers who claim that they are the ones who have rightfully ‘discovered’ muse c. muse a and muse b then go through great lengths to try and win muse c to sign over to them. muse c has no plans of defecting to either sides but decide to string them along for the perks (and for the attention). great for exploring a kooky triad of frenemies or a polyship.

PORTRAIT OF A LADY ON FIRE // muse a is a painter / filmmaker / photographer who is tasked with relaunching muse b’s career. muse a thinks that muse b is a brat. muse b thinks that muse a is full of themself.

I’M HUNGRY, I’M COLD // you might wanna try and watch it here first, it’s v short! muse a and muse b are best friends who’ve been on the lam for a long time (for reasons utp) and are now broke bc they blew up all their funds on life’s little pleasures. maybe they start conning people? maybe they try to get a dozen dead-end jobs at once that they suck at so they keep going back to square one? either way, they must decide whether or not they should finally face the music and go home. or maybe they just need to find the means (and a reason) to stay in their current town, and fast.

BABETTE’S FEAST // muse a is formerly the head chef of a michelin-star awarded restaurant who is now working as something else. muse b had one unforgettable (for sentimental purposes, reasons utp) meal in said restaurant which, unbeknownst to them, was cooked by muse a. the two meet in the current setting, several years later, and become friends / lovers / etc, with muse b sparking muse a’s interest in cooking once again. muse a cooks The Meal™️ for muse b, not knowing what it means to them, and muse b finally recognizes who muse a is as they are flooded by memories of that night they first tasted the dish.

CIGARETTES & COFFEE // muse a and muse b are newlyweds who are in town for their honeymoon. however, things go awry on day 1 when muse a blows it all on some stupid, petty thing (in the original, they blew it on a game of craps in a casino when they’ve neVER played craps before and muse b is fuckin LIVID it’s just hilarious and sad) and their relationship is immediately put to the test when they have to figure out how to scrape money to get home (but also maybe kind of fall in love with the place??? and decide to start their family there??? idk)

SUCCESSION (this is a tv show but this particular dynamic is just too damn good not to include) with a little bit of THE PANIC IN NEEDLE PARK // muse a and muse b come from rivaling families (for whatever business, but they gotta be high profile). they meet while theyre trying to be lowkey doing ~~normal people stuff and instantly click despite their families’ tumultuous history, but have to keep their relationship (platonic or otherwise) away from the public eye to avoid raising suspicion from the critics. they think they can help each other’s recoveries by being in each other’s company but all they do is enable each other, further destroying not only their lives, but their families’ reputations as well.

#rpc #rph #rp help #writing help #plot ideas #*

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t-o-m-hollands · 4 years ago

Text

Tom x You

Summery: Tom and his brothers have a pub. You, trying to avoid working on your new album, spend most of your time in there. Lots of flirting and bickering ensues.

Themes: Sort of frienemies to lovers, slow burn, mutual attraction but they are both to dumb to realise. General dumbness all around. Idiots in love.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Drinking and swearing. Smut in future chapters.

PART I of IV

***

At 8 years of age your father hands you a worn guitar and with the patience of a saint teaches you how to make it play the holiest of sounds. Every day you practise, until your fingertips has hardened and they move effortlessly over the strings.

At 10 years of age you write your first song. It’s a puerile little tune about a sweet boy with hair like honey and an opportunity lost. It’s repetitive and nonsensical but your mother hums the chorus for weeks after hearing it.

At 14 years of age you meet up with a record label and when signing the dotted line on the contract you feel a chill down your spine and your grandmother’s stories about the crossroad demon comes back to you verbatim. With determination you still put your name on the paper in a signature you’ve spent hours practising. Only days later you hear your voice on the radio for the very first time.

At 17 years of age there are headlines in magazines about you, photos of men they claim you’ve dated and interviews with people who claim to be a ‘close source’ to you, even though you’ve never met them, spilling lies on every page. You find out your closest friend has sold information about you to the tabloids for over a year.

At 19 years of age you go on a world tour, though the only parts of the world you see are airports, hotels and playing venues and then later at night: nightclubs. You travel the world, but you learn nothing about it.

At 22 years of age and your boyfriend breaks up with you for an actress. There isn’t a day that year that tabloids don’t ‘report’ on it. He spends most of the time telling the world how much happier he is in his new relationship, and you spend most of your time staring down into a bottle.

At 24 years of age you feel drained, dog-tired and worn out. On a regular basis there’s photos of you stumbling out of pubs, bars and restaurants all over the internet. Your record label is threatening a lawsuit and you haven’t talked to your manager in weeks. You have no friends and your family doesn’t know what to do with you.

Okay, so maybe being a successful singer isn’t all that it’s cut out to be. Especially not when the entirety of the internet is making fun of you.

And yes, maybe you’re in a flunk and haven’t written anything decent in months. And okay, maybe you haven’t even picked up a guitar in weeks. And maybe throwing away your phone in order not to have to face the record label was a bad idea. And maybe, hand on heart, the right solution to your problems is not to waste your days away in a well-hidden pub in a backstreet in London with the cutest pub owner you’ve ever seen, with biceps that makes you want to drool. A pub owner who has no interest in you and finds you annoying beyond belief.

Yet here you are,

again.

***

“It’s Tuesday” Tom informs you as he hands you cherry coke and a straw.

So, it goes like this. Tom is obsessed with time. He’s always informing you of either what day of the week it is, or the time of day. As if he’s trying to shame you into realising that 10 am on a Tuesday is not an acceptable time to order a dry martini.

“So?” You ask, feigning ignorance as you open the can. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed that this is a coke and in fact completely free of alcohol. I mean in the good ol’ day they at least had the cutesy to put cocaine in there.”.

“Don’t worry” he says, scrubbing the surface of the already clean counter-top “there’s a shit load of other stuff that’ll destroy your insides in there”.

You try not to roll your eyes, honestly you do. You fail. “Oh no, is it sugar? Please, doctor say it isn’t sugar!” you wail dramatically.

“No, not just sugar” and you can tell he’s also trying not to roll his eyes at your exaggerated play acting. “You know, I saw this documentary once about what they put in coca cola and –”

“No, nope, no, no. Absolutely not” You shake your head vehemently as if that will stop his words. "I would literally rather hear you talk about goddamn golf for an hour than put me of one of life’s few great pleasures”.

This time he doesn’t manage to stop himself from rolling his eyes at you. “Oh, I think we both know you find more pleasures in life than coca cola”.

Before you can answer him something insanely witty the door to the office behind the bar opens and an anxious looking Harrison step out. “Tom, Sam says the fish delivery didn’t show up again so we’re out of cod and therefore fish ‘n chips.”

Tom rubs his face, looking worried. “Alright, I’ll call him up and see what happened.”

But Harrison still looks tense. “Also…” he trails off, losing courage.

“Also, what?” And Tom too sounds tense now.

“Well, Downey from the bank called, he says the invoice is way over due and he wants a meeting. I told him you’d call today”.

Tom keeps rubbing his forehead, as if to literally fight of a migraine, and his shoulders tense. “Yeah, yeah I’ll call him this afternoon”. Harrison nods and walks back into the kitchen

“You know, I cou –” but you don’t get to finish your sentence before he interrupts you. “Don’t” he says, voice sharp as a whip.

“But, it would just be a loan, honestly I – ”

“No, and I mean it.” And you judging by the tone of voice he uses and the stern look he gives you you’re well aware that he isn’t joking. It’s like his usually warm and kind eyes are nailing you down into your seat. “I’m not gonna borrow money from a customer, as you well know.”

The problem is that really wouldn’t be a big deal for you to offer him a loan or give it as a gift really. You love this pub. You love the people working here and the patrons and coming in for a drink or a meal or simply a chat and a laugh. It’s your safe haven. No one ever hardly ever bothers you here. No one asks you for a selfie or asks you about when more music is coming out. No one tugs at your sleeve or try to sneakily take a photo of you. Here, you are normal. And it would devastate you to see the Holland boys lose it all when you know you can help. You have more money than you know what to do with.

However, you know there’s no arguing with him when he’s got that look on his face so you don’t, just keep sipping on your cherry coke as your foot taps along to the song on the radio. From inside the kitchen you can hear the faint sound of the Holland twin's laughter.

Tom turns away from you to sort out the whiskey glasses on the counter behind him. But when picking up a glass he fumbles, and it falls out of his hand and lands right on his foot, though it fortunately doesn’t break.

“Ah, fucking bastard!” he shouts, grabbing hold of his injured foot.

“You shouldn’t swear in church, you know” ¨you say, as you finish your coke.

He looks at you indignantly, pouting like a child, “well, lucky for me, this is a pub.”

“You say potato, I say tomato, now make me a real drink.”

“For fucks sake, darlin’, you gotta eat something.”

***

So, it’s either late or early, depending how you look on it. On tube stations all across London early worker are already gathering on the platforms to take their commute to work. Not you. Not Tom either.

Now, Tom is an early riser and has been since childhood. His nanna used to say that he had energy enough for three children. Despite regular closing shifts at the pub he likes to be up at dawn. Says he likes to get an hour at the gym and a walk with Tessa in before he heads to the pub to make sure everything is in order. After having checked with Sam that everything is stocked for the day, he has his protein loaded breakfast while ordering supplies or read through whatever paper work he need to be on top off before opening up the pub for the day.

Tom hates having this routine disturbed.

So, it goes like this. Harry had been the bartender most of that night, since Tom had ‘other business to take care of’. Whenever Harry was bartender he’d usually spent more time drinking with you than he did serving up the other costumers. When Tom came back and saw the state of you, he’d sent you home, telling you that you’d had enough for one night and asking Harrison to walk you home. Then he’d giving Harry a proper telling off. You had dutifully walked with Harrison to your apartment, thanked him sweetly, and then as soon as you saw that he had passed the corner walked into another pub just across the street for more. It wasn’t as charming a place as The Hollands and their bartender sure wasn’t as handsome or as fun to annoy as the regular one at Hollands. But in a pinch, anything will do.

Upon closing hour however, as you made your way home, you’d discovered that your keys were missing. Being absolutely wasted this did not worry you in the slightest. You just strolled back on unsteady legs to The Hollands to see if you’d dropped them there. Tom, who had closed the pub for the night, was still in. From the windows you could see him going through stacks of paperwork in front of him, a frown on his face. Upon hearing you knocking on the window at 2 am he’d jumped out his chair to see what was going on. When seeing you three sheets to the wind, dressed in a thin dress on a cold summer’s night the frown on his face had gotten worse.

Now here you are, in his apartment, in the dead of the night, and he’s offering you a plate of tortellini. Tessa had been overjoyed to see you and after having been allowed to greet you she had then been sent to her place and out of the way of your drunk, stumbling feet.

“But I hate tortellini” you whine.

“Christ sake, Popstar, just eat the damn food”

“No, I hate it, Tom, I hate it so much, it makes me think of- of- ” you hiccup.

“Are you actually crying right now?”

“It makes me think of- of - cheese sauce and -”

“Sorry, but what now?”

“And – I – I – I hate cheese sauce”. You’re full on sobbing and he just stares at you in disbelief.

Then, somehow the world seems fall the wrong way around. It takes you a second to realize that you’ve slid down on the floor and that you’re staring up at the ceiling. Tom’s strong arm take a hold of you and he guides you to a sitting position, leaned up against the wall. With your face in his hands he stares at you in indignation but there’s something else there too. You’re drunk enough to dare to call it tenderness.

Suddenly you’re aware that you’re sobbing, but you can’t remember why that is.

“Fuck who knows” he responds and when you give out a sound that’s something halfway between a sob and a laugh he starts laughing too. “If I make you something else to eat, will you eat it then? You’ll feel better in the morning if you do”.

Your head feels heavy, so you lean it against his hand and nod. “No cheese sauce, please”.

He rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing too. “Sure, no cheese sauce for Pop Princess.”

“Oi!” You call out “You promised to never to call me that!” Pop Princess was the title the tabloids had given you early on in your career. He keeps smiling, but it’s a gentle smile, and trace the frown between your eyebrows with his finger, as if he’s trying to erase it.

“Will you please just sit here while I cook?”

You nod again, too tired to say anything. He gets up, and you can hear some pouring water and then he places a glass of water in your hand. “Drink” he orders, then he’s gone again, and you can hear the clattering of pots and pans as he starts cooking. You’re just staring into the wall, trying to make it stop spinning; limbs heavy with sleep and whiskey, a nice buzzing numbness in your head.

Then he’s in front of you again, looking at you with a frown “I thought I told you to drink that” and you look at the full glass clasped in your hands. “Seriously, you’ll feel better if you do”.

You roll your eyes “oh, please, Tommy. Remember who you’re speaking to. I’m the local drunk, there’s no need to lecture me in hangovers”. But you do as you’re told and chug down your drink and hand him the empty glass. “Good girl” he says and gets back to his cooking. Before long the delicious scent of food is spreading through the tiny, cramped kitchen.

You start humming a song you wrote years ago but never released, low enough so you think Tom won’t hear you over the sizzling pan. But he does.

“What’s that?” he asks, curiosity in his voice.

“Oh” you say, leaning your head back against the wall as you close your eyes in the hope that the world will stop spinning. “Just a song.”

Everything goes quiet for a while and you find yourself wondering if you’ve fallen asleep. But then you hear his voice. “Keep singing, please”.

It surprises you, the amount of tenderness in his words; such a gentle bequest. So, you do as you’re told. In a voice raspy from the whiskey but sweet from his kindness you sing.

“I’ve been holding my breath, I’ve been counting to ten,

Over something you said, I’ve been holding back tears

While you’re throwing back beers, I’m alone in bed

You know I, I’m afraid of change, Guess that’s why we stay the same,

So tell me to leave, I’ll pack my bags, get on the road,

Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know,

'Cause you remind me every day, I’m not enough, but I still stay”

You trial off and he keeps quiet too and goes silent again. Then he slides down beside you, a plate of pasta carbonara in his hands which he offers you along with a fork. “Eat” he orders gently. You do, and it tastes delicious.

“God, Tom, you could rival Sam in the kitchen”.

He snorts but you persist. “Seriously Tommy, I’d hire you as a private chef if I didn’t know you’d be an insufferable employee”.

He snorts again, but you can tell he’s amused. “Wow, thanks a lot”

“Seriously, you’d always complain about my lack of organization, or the fact that I keep all of my face masks in the refrigerator, or that I never have any food at home or that I don’t eat at regular hours or that I sometimes just forget to eat and just have a Red bull for dinner instead or that I – ”

“Jesus Christ” he interrupts you “who the fuck let you be an adult? What’s wrong with you!?”

You’re wolfing down your food, so it takes you a moment to answer. “Someone said my problem was ‘a mind-boggling lack of general discipline and a staggeringly low ability to organise’” you finally say.

“Who said that? I mean they’re not wrong”.

“You said that” you point out as you finish your plate of carbonara. “Also, this was scrumptious, and also, may I sleep here tonight?”

He looks at you in disbelief “Yeah, duh, I’m not kicking you out? I mean, I thought that was the general idea of this”.

He grabs a hold of your plate and takes your hand in his other as he guides you both up to a standing position. He places the plate among the other dirty pans in the sink and then lead you to his bathroom. Giving you a new toothbrush, he orders you to brush your teeth while he changes his sheets. He hands you a shirt to sleep in and when you’ve changed you argue for a good 10 minutes while about who’s to sleep on the couch before he puts his foot down and say he’ll ban you from his pub unless you take the bed instead of him. So, you do.

His bed soft and comfortable and smell of his detergent. From the living room you can hear Tessa’s deep breaths and the sound of Tom tossing around on the sofa. You wonder how uncomfortable he is.

“Tommy just come in here instead” you call out, voice drowsy.

“No, I told you, you take the bed”

You snort. As if you were going to give this bed up, no chance. Not now that you know how comfortable it is.

“Yeah, duh” you answer. “Wasn’t planning on taking the sofa, but the bed’s big enough for the two of us, innit?”

Dead silence from the living room. Even Tessa seems to have been struck silent.

“You sure?”

You sigh. “Yeah, I'm sure, for fuck’s sake Tommy, just come in here”.

You hear the sound of footsteps slowly making their way across the floor, then he’s in the doorway. Clad in a pair of black boxers and a black t-shirt, awkwardly scratching the back of his head as he avoids looking at you.

You pull down the covers and he lay down beside you, keeping his distance in the bed. You have your backs against each other, staring into separate walls and even through the whiskey you can tell this is awkward. You want to ask him to hold you, but you’re scared he doesn’t want it. Scared he doesn’t even want to lay beside you. You are after all just a costumer in his bar. A costumer you know he can’t afford to lose.

You don’t know how long you lay there in silence, his scent surrounding you, the soft sound of his breath lulling you into further relaxation but eventually you drift off to sleep.

When you wake, he’s gone. A note on his pillow tells you he’s gone to the gym, telling you to take anything you want for breakfast and just leave the keys at the pub later.

When you close the door behind you you can’t help but feel that something tender happened in there, something important; but you know he doesn’t feel the same.

***

It’s Monday night, as Tom has been so kind to remind you off, and you’re plastered.

Earlier the pub had been full to rim of football supporters shouting and singing and sharing pints before a big game, filling the entire place with an excited buzz. Now they’ve all gone off to cheer for their heroes on the field and only the patrons remain.

Harry is bartender tonight, and Tom has placed himself in the back of the pub, a stack of paper in front of him that he keeps leering at. With a drink in your hand and a happy-go-lucky attitude you seat yourself on the opposite side of his table, determent to cheer him up.

“’m gonna write a song about you.” You inform him, voice only somewhat slurry.

“Go on then.” He doesn’t look up at you, just jots something down on the form in front of him. He’s wearing glasses tonight and they make him look so handsome you want to scream in frustration.

“Well, what rhymes with Tom? Rum!”

“Oh, Christ, no. No, I’ve changed my mind.”

“Tom, he serves rum and tequila.” You sing. “Wait, what rhymes with tequila?”

“Please don’t”

“Heliophilia!”

“Okay, ’m literally begging you not to do this.” He’s looking at you now, his caramel eyes filled with both amusement and genuine dread. You don’t listen, no, you sing.

“Tom, he serves Rum and tequila,

he loves the sun, it’s called heliophilia

his pub needs fundin’, he lives in London”

“Wow. That is a hell of a forced rhyme, pop princess.”

“No, no wait!”

“Wait? I will literally pay you to stop”.

But then you start singing for real, in a voice so sultry that it makes him freeze mid motion, hand just about to turn the page over.

“Have you’ve seen my bartender

he’ll serve you whiskey, he’ll pour you rum

so sweet it’ll make you tender

but all the whiskey in Tennessee

couldn’t have that man agree

to ever share a drink with thee

no, all that sweetness’s just for me

cause babe, he’s my bartender

Yes, have you’ve seen my bartender

He’ll hand you wine, he’ll sell you gin

I think it’s a sign when he hands me my wine

When hand’s touching hand, skin touches skin”

Tom seem to be frozen in place when you stop, and over at the bar you hear Harry give a loud whistle. “Fucking hell, popstar” he cheers.

Tom still doesn’t say anything, just observes you, seemingly speechless. And maybe you’re imagining it, but he’s cheeks seem pinker than usual.

"Well, at least I didn’t rhyme rum with cum” you say, trying to get a reaction out of him. And then “I did think about doing it though” and you lift your glass to him as if in a toast before you down it.

He snorts, back to his normal self and stare down at the paper again.

“Now, honestly, Tom. What did that piece of paper ever do to you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re staring at it like you want to set fire to it. You’d like me to do it for you?”

“No thanks, reckon he’d sue”.

“Who is he?” you lean over the table and closer to him and you swear you can practically see him ordering himself not to look down at your cleavage. “Is he god?” you whisper in mock horror. “Cause, I wouldn’t worry too much, Tommy. You see, God can’t sue. Well, someone in America tried to sue Satan once and they couldn’t cause they couldn’t hand him the papers. Turns out Satan hasn’t got an address. Reckon the same goes with God”

He rolls his eyes “oh, this guy definitely has got an address. He lives in Knightsbridge.” And then, in a voice unusually bitter he adds “posh twat”.

“Oy” you warn, jokingly, “those are my neighbourhoods'”.

A sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh escapes him “Oh please” he laughs “please, you might live in Primrose Hill now, but you’re not Knightsbridge posh. Sorry to disappoint, Pop Princess”.

You glare, but it’s all in good humour. “So, who is this not-God-but-rich-as-God man sending you paper?”

The humour disappears from his face. “Downey, from the bank”. Then he turns to the bar and shouts, “Harry, hand me a pint, ye?”

“And a whiskey for me, please” you request sweetly.

“No way, Harry, she’s cut off for the night. Tell Sam to make her something to eat” he orders his younger brother who rolls his eyes but obediently begin to head into to the kitchen.

“Not tort -” you begin shouting as an instruction.

“Not tortellini” he shouts at the same time. “And no cheese sauce either” he then adds.

You smile at him and this time you swear he’s blushing.

“Who’s Downey? You ask. And you know you’re prying, but you also know that Tom needs help with something and if there’s anything you can do to help, you will.

“A bank man who wants me to pay my loans back”. He answers eventually after a long silence, when he figures you’re not going to give up and talk about something else. Harry comes back and hands Tom a pint and then leaves to take care of a costumer at the bar.

“A bank man, who lives in Knightsbridge?” You ask, bemused.

Tom smiles “oh, believe you me, Downey’s not your average bank clerk.” Then, in a serious tone, “look, I know you want to help, but there’s nothing you can do, ye? So drop it”.

“But I-”

“Drop it. Seriously, pop princess, there’s nothing you can do, I’ll figure something out”. He doesn’t sound harsh and the way he looks at you is positively adoring. Then he does something unexcepted. He reaches over the table and pulls a loose string of hair behind your ear. It’s a soft and sweet gesture and you want to reach over and kiss him but before you can he removes his hand and seconds later Harry places a dish of steaming pasta carbonara in front of you. You smile and thank him and he makes his way back to the bar.

You eat in silence for a while as he continues to read through stashes of papers. You decide to leave the subject, for now at least.

“Yours is better, by the way”. He looks up at you, confused. “Your carbonara” you clarify. “I mean, Sam is an incredible chef and you’re lucky to have him, but yours is my favourite”.

His cheeks heat up, again.

***

R E A D P A R T T W O H E R E

#tom holland #tom holland headcanon #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x oc #tom holland x fem #tom holland x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n

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timextoxhajima · 4 years ago

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Member: lee jaehyun aka hyunjae from tbz cause i feel like there are too many jaehyuns around now ;_; my heart can’t take too many perfect men of the same name

Genre: COLLEGE... CRUSH? idk this is probably gonna be my most crack piece (you can already tell by the track)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: I wrote this at like 1.30am so please bear with me lol my inspiration always come in the middle of the night because it’s so quiet and conducive

this will be a one shot cause i’ve got no fucking clue how to make it into a series/short novel without an actual conflict/angst/drama involved :”) if you’re a writer and you see this and you want to make a 2nd part or something, BE MY GUEST

lee hyun jae.

who was he to me?

oh, i don’t know.

just the prettiest but handsomest man alive. if that’s even a word.

he’s always surrounded by like, eleven other boys who are also good-looking and talented in some way or another.

god must’ve invested his entire life into crafting these fine, fine specimens of men to be placed on earth.

maybe there was a mix up somewhere and they were supposed to be angels or demi-gods and god just fucked up.

but i’ve got no complaints.

i’m satisfied that i get to feast my eyes on such a gorgeous, rare, one-of-a-kind version of a person i’m sure exists nowhere else in the world.

he’s known for being one of the most caring ones of the group. he’d make his friends laugh but watch out for them at the same time. he’s so easygoing, i wonder if he’d smile at me if i tripped him over or something.

you might think i’m exaggerating.

well,

i’m not.

so who am i to him?

sadly, nobody.

harsh truth.

there was absolutely nothing wrong with the man. there was a lack of flaw, and that was literally the only flaw he had. if it could even be considered as a flaw. i could spend my seconds, minutes, hours, days, just staring at him. it was so unfair that there is NOTHING WRONG WITH HIM.

sometimes it pisses me off.

it kind of pisses me off that he doesn’t have a girlfriend despite half the school simping over him.

i mean, who wouldn’t? just look at him.

there have been rumors flying about that he was gay or something.

doesn’t matter if he is gay though.

it simply hurts to know he’s not dating anybody.

it’ll be such a waste if such a man ends up living a life alone. a waste indeed.

so what was it that was stopping me from putting that destiny of his to a screeching stop?

well, there was just one problem.

“hELLO, earth to y/n?” the sudden waving in your face with the heaviest textbook in your curriculum snaps you back into reality.

“which one of the twelve are you thinking up some magical fantasy over now?” your best friend frowns at you, the vein on her arm popping from the weight of the fat textbook.

“ah-- it doesn’t matter who i’m daydreaming about, let me have my moment, would you?” you lean back in your seat, disgruntled at her telling you what not to do with your own imagination. sometimes it was difficult to look at her without seeing all the little hints of lee hyunjae in her.

they had the same nose, but that was it. honestly, it was a miracle you just happened to make friends with one of the prettiest girls in school, and good for you, she ended up becoming your friend and stayed in that position for more than a decade. naturally, she was upgraded to the ‘best friend’ title.

the biggest issue you had with lee hee jae was that she hated her brother getting so much attention, and she has always condemned him about it.

which was pretty ironic, given the number of love letters that show up in her locker everyday.

but thanks to her cold, a-little-more-than-mean superficial personality, most guys don’t have enough of a pair to talk to her in person. sure, she won’t hesitate to stab a bitch, but you knew her well enough to know that if the love of her life, son young jae, were to suddenly sprout feelings for her and confess, she might just nose bleed and pass out.

but does she know you have had the biggest, fattest crush on her older brother?

no.

she’d kidnap you and torture you and brainwash you to unlike him.

maybe that’s why he hasn’t got any girlfriends.

“you’re zoning out again,” she snaps her finger in your ear and the sharp click jumps you. you bare your teeth in annoyance and feign a hit towards her, but she doesn’t flinch.

your little high school crush on her brother wasn’t getting any weaker as the years went by. in fact, it’s been getting stronger. now that you’ve seen the way he treats his friends, how kind and considerate he was, not to mention that body-- well--

let’s just say you went from just appreciating his face, to everything in general. it was only a matter of time before she finds out that the one man you were simping over out of the eleven boys was her brother.

of the eleven boys, it just had to be her brother.

“hee jae,” you pull out a pencil and start to randomly doodle in your notebook. “haven’t you ever considered talking to eric?”

she shoots you a death glare, but you’re used to it.

“i thought we agreed not to speak of this in school!” she leans into you and hisses, eyes piercing right through your head. if her eyes had lazers, your head would’ve been blasted off completely after years of her angry glaring.

“no, but eric just seems so... chill, y’know? he’s either cleaning his table and packing his stuff or outside playing baseball, there’s literally nothing stopping you from talking to him.”

she rolls her eyes and snatches your pencil away from you in a bid to piss you off so you’d stop talking.

“give it back--” you snatch the stationery from her and hiss at her like a cat. “you’re literally in the damn baseball team with him. it’s not that difficult to make up a story and start a conversation with him.”

“ha,” she’s finally mastered the art of fake laughter. “easy for you to say. you simp for all eleven of them and can’t choose one for you to worry about it like i do.”

that was fun to hear.

“well, forget eric,” she waves it off. “are we doing anything after school?”

anything but going to your house. i don’t want to be stuck under the same roof as your brother, my heart would get a seizure and i’ll probably die on the spot.

“my mom’s making crepes today, and i know you love that shit,” hee jae snickers, pulling out a baseball from her bag and throwing it into the air and catching it.

“aw, man... not the crepes,” you pout and side eye her, leaning back into your seat.

“why are you so uptight about going to my place? you’ve been there a billion fucking times, you literally live there now.”

that’s cause i’m only over when your brother isn’t around!

“ugh, okay fine. but i gotta dash home first to grab some homework. i left some of it at home ‘cause i wasn’t expecting an invitation today.”

she squeals, showing you a part of her that nobody else has the privilege of seeing. “sick,” she gets out of the seat she dragged to yours and brings it back to where she took it from. “call my home number and tell me you’re on your way before you leave your house!”

you nod un-enthusiastically, waving her off before she leaves the classroom and returns to hers.

you were finally back at home, showered and changed into comfortable clothes while you shoved all your homework into your bag. you leave your parents a text to tell them that you’d spend the afternoon and evening at heejae’s so they don’t have to worry about your dinner, then you dial her home number.

the phone was on it’s eighth ring, and you were already one foot out of the door. usually, it doesn’t take her that long to pick up the phone.

“this little bitch invites me over and doesn’t pick up the damn--”

“hello?”

your grip tightens around your phone and you stumble out of your house, the door swinging shut behind jumps you and you process the voice on the other end of the line.

“uh--”

“is this y/n?”

“uh... yeah, this is she.”

he knows me?

shut up, of course he knows you. you’ve been friends with his sister for a decade!

“oh, okay, cool. heejae’s in the toilet right now and she said she’ll get it but i couldn’t stand the sound of the phone ringing.”

“ah...” your voice trails off, unsure of how to respond. you were just preoccupied with how soothing his voice was, and just imagining his face with the phone to his ear on the other line was just so--

“hello? y/n? you there?”

“yeah, yeah, sorry i was... crossing a road.” you weren’t even moving; you were just planted into the pavement like a tree.

“actually, why don’t i go and pick you up? your place is on the way to the shopping mall and my mom just told me to go get some groceries, do you want to tag along? we can head back to my place afterwards and you can get the crepes you like.”

where in the world was he getting all this information from?

“uh--” you stammer into the receiver for the billionth time. he must think you have some kind of speech problem by now.

“you know what? just hang tight for a few minutes. heejae’s still in the bathroom so she doesn’t get a say in what i do if i decide it without her presence,” you hear him walk around on the house and call out for his mom to tell her he was leaving for the shopping mall. “you live on 31st avenue, right? the white house with the blue roof?”

“uH--” you really need to get a grip on yourself.

“i guessed. hang tight, i’ll be there in a sec! see you!”

hyunjae doesn’t bother to wait for you to hang up before he does. the line goes dead and the beep nearly deafens you, but you couldn’t believe your ears. you were about to be in the same vehicle as lee hyun jae. one of the most popular boys in school, the handsomest man alive, the love of your li--

whoa.

too fast.

you shake the nonsensical daydreams out of your head and walk back to the steps of your door. while waiting, you can’t help but to let the quiet crush on him run your mind recklessly.

what if he was just messing with you and he’s just chilling at home? what if he knows that you have a crush on him and he’s just having fun? what if he thinks you’re weird for hanging out with his sister? what if he’s caught you staring and he thinks you’re a creep? oh my god, what if heejae’s told him embarrassing stories about you and now he’s going to poke fun at you with that?

you stare blankly at the little weeds in the cracks of the pavement, the thoughts in your head running wild as you slowly convince yourself he’s not going to turn up.

but the familiar silver family car rolls up at the end of the pavement, and the windows roll down to reveal hyunjae in sunglasses wearing a simple white tee-shirt.

“did i keep you waiting?” he pushes down his sunglasses and looks at you over the rim, one arm dangling outside the window.

you shake your head, suddenly losing all ability to speak.

“alrighty then, get in. we’re heading for the shopping mall.” he nods his head towards the car, retracting his arm back into the vehicle.

your heart was thumping so aggressively and so loudly you were sure he could hear it. hell, he could probably see it.

“how’s school? i haven’t seen you around back in my house after... what, about five years? you were always around when i was out, if i didn’t know better, i’d think you were avoiding me,” his voice was so alluring, you had to constantly remind yourself that he was actually saying something.

“uh-- well....”

come on, say something. anything.

“i guess god just doesn’t want us to meet.”

no, it’s because you were avoiding him. what the flying fuck was that?

he laughs heartily, his teeth catching the light of the afternoon sun and glistens in your vision. “if that’s the case then god really needs to give me a break.”

your little-crush-on-him morphs into a tiny character in your head and it starts yelling at you. did he just say what you think he just said?

“no, i mean,” he glances at you, hands still on the steering wheel once he notices you’ve gone eerily silent. “i would’ve spoken to you and tried to be actual friends with you sooner, but heejae never wants me talking to her friends. you can imagine how she is with her best friend.”

you sigh heavily, the mention of your best friends’ name loosening some knots in your stomach. “lee hee jae is just something. not sure what, but something.”

“it does baffle me to think about how you put up with her for what, nine years now?”

you were looking out the window, and the idea of being in the same car as hyunjae doesn’t seem as tormenting as it seemed once you realise the best support you’ve had for the last ten years was lee hee jae.

“eleven, actually,” you say without looking at him, eyes zeroing on a couple walking a dog on the pavement by the road. “yeah i guess she can be a handful sometimes, especially with how cold and mean she is on the outside...”

the car stops at a traffic junction.

“but put her in front of one guy and she’ll pass the fu--”

“‘one guy’?” he interrupts.

your eyes widen and you suck your lips between your teeth, wincing a little to yourself when you realise what you just said.

“lee hee jae has a crush on someone?” you hear him scoff and a brotherly chuckle rushes out his lips. “do you know who it is?”

you were about to protest and stop him from trying to dig the information that you nearly disclosed, but he interrupts you again.

“y’know what? don’t tell me. i’ll guess. i’ll just watch your reactions while i’m at it.”

you grit your teeth and tighten your temples. you don’t realise how sweaty your palms were until your phone slides out from underneath your skin when the car starts to move.

“is it kevin? no wait-- doesn’t feel like it.”

is he going to just start talking on his own until he finds someone he thinks suits her and then look at my face to read my expression?

“i don’t think she’s the kind to go for someone older than me or my age. so that takes sangyeon, jacob, younghoon-- is it younghoon? no, it’s not... ah, no matter how i think about it, someone nearer your age pops up. haknyeon, sunwoo, eric. it’s one of the three.”

that wasn’t so hard. hee jae must be easy for her brother to read.

“are you really going to let me play this elimination game alone?” he raises a brow and turns the wheel, driving into the car park of the shopping mall. the little gesture causes your heart to involuntarily skip a beat, and you could see his eyes folding even behind the sunglasses when he turns his head.

“your sister would kill me if she knew i even started this conversation, so i’m just refraining from deepening my grave.”

you hear him laugh through his nose. “relax, i’m not going to tell her you said this. i’ve seen the way she looks at us whenever we’re in school. she gives me a look of disgust but she always reserves a blush on her cheeks for someone. i just can’t put my finger on who it is.”

“you mean you notice the way she looks at you and your friends? that’s a little weird.”

the car starts to reverse into a parking lot and he pulls the gears into parking mode. there was a short silence in the air as he lays his finger on the start up button of the car and he turns to look at you, now without the sunglasses to block your view of his eyes.

“you’d be surprised that i notice a lot of things.”

he flashes you a smile and reaches for the door on his side, pushing himself out as if he didn’t just expose both you and your best friend.

you were just tailing hyunjae while he told you what was on the grocery list, and you start filling the basket. he doesn’t stop guessing though, but the entire time spent with him only made you feel like he was so comfortable to be around.

besides his pretty face, of course.

you were waiting for him to pay for the items while you stood outside when heejae’s caller ID showed up on your phone screen.

“where the hell are you?”

“hello to you too,” you roll your eyes. “your brother said he was going to get me and now we’re shopping for groceries before we return to your place. didn’t your mom tell you?”

“what? no, she didn’t. she just told me he went out to get groceries.”

“huh?” you look over your shoulder to see hyunjae paying the cashier. “are you saying that your mom lied about me?”

“now, why would she do that?”

“she’s your mom, not mine. why don’t you ask her instead?”

hyunjae picks up the grocery bags and walks towards you, looking into them and making sure he didn’t miss out anything.

“this is so fucking weird. where’s hyunjae? pass the phone to him,”

“we’re done, let’s go.” hyunjae stops by your side, noticing that you were on the phone.

“don’t you dare hang up on me, pass the phone to him!” hee jae screams into the receiver. you wince and pull it away from your ear, shooting hyunjae a look of slight confusion as you hand him the phone.

“it’s your sister.”

he sighs and places the bags on the floor, wiping his hands on his pants before taking it.

you could hear hee jae screaming at him on the other end, but hyunjae’s face doesn’t change one bit besides that sweet smile plastered to his lips while he let his sister berate him. hyunjae got bored extremely quickly, and he was already removing the phone from his ear while he repeated the word ‘bye’ into the receiver.

he hands the phone back to you and hangs it up for you, picking up the bags and heading back to the car.

by the time you reach the road right outside their house, heejae was standing on the porch, anxiously tapping her foot on the wooden boards.

“oh, no,” he groans, looking out the window and observing heejae like she was a lion in the savannah. “well, just another day for us people who have to deal with miss lee.”

he says so coyly, pushing himself out of the car and going to open the door of the backseat. you help yourself out, and heejae storms toward you, fists balled by her side and steam coming out through her ears.

you thought she was going to scream at you for accepting a ride from hyunjae, but she dodges you and opens the backseat door opposite hyunjae to yell at him in the car.

“what made you think it was a great idea to pick her up? didn’t we have a deal that both our friends were out of bounds to each other?”

wait what--

“yah, lee hyunjae!” she yells at the top of her voice as he ignores her, pulling out of the car and walking towards the house. “we had a deeeeeaaaaaaal!”

you grab onto heejae and turn her around, trying to peel her attention away from her brother and to you so you could get a grasp on what she just said.

“did you just say what i think you just said?!” you blink in surprise at her, and the thought of hyunjae finding an excuse just to spend time with you melts you into a puddle of hopeless goop.

“no,” she says with a stern face, lifting a finger and pointing at you in the face. “no.”

“well--” she yanks herself out of your grip and turns to the house. “what’s so bad about dating your siblings’ friends? you like eric.”

she literally screeches to a stop and turns around with eyes that were burning. honestly, it was pretty funny to see her so riled up, knowing that she wasn’t angry at you. she was angry with hyunjae for... whatever he did, and the fact that she just had to fall for someone in hyunjae’s circle of friends. it was a slap in her face, or whoever thought about the no-dating-siblings’-friends pact.

“is that why you don’t want to talk to eric? because of this... deal?” you raise a brow, entertained, completely forgetting that there was the slightest chance that hyunjae might’ve been looking for an excuse to hang out with you, and he had just succeeded.

she had no words, but her silence was enough to let you unpack the situation.

“ah... i see,” you fold your arms across your chest and smirk at her. then you remember you were standing right outside lee hyunjae’s house. this was your chance to dig the information out from her. “so if this deal is stopping you from talking to eric, then is it safe to assume that it’s similar for hyunjae?”

you could see her bottom lip quivering upon your question, as she realises that you’ve finally found out why she was keeping a distance from her own teammate. but her silence also pushes you further into confusion. does that mean--

“look, you can’t date hyunjae, okay? i forbid it. the last time a girl dated someone in that group of friends of his, they broke up because she got bullied by other girls in school. i told hyunjae he wasn’t allowed to date any of my friends so i wouldn’t need to beat the fuck out of any bullies and get myself expelled,” she huffed and hugged her torso. “and i made him agree to that deal by promising him that neither i nor any of my friends would date his.”

you shake your head, fingers pressing into your temples and hair while you let the story unfold from her narration.

“my mom didn’t tell me about him going to get you because... well... he--”

“i like you!”

your heart stops and you think your blood stopped flowing through you as well. heejae’s head snaps back to look at the house and the source of noise, and she pulls out a shoe to hurl it at hyunjae.

“ah--!” he starts yelling once she reaches him with the shoe. “let me at least try, god damn it! sunwoo only let his girlfriend get bullied because he’s a dumbass-- ow! but i’m not gonna let her get bullied, i promise!”

you slowly turn your head to see hyunjae trying to dodge every hit, and he starts running away from her and toward you. he pulls you in front of him so you were standing between him and heejae, who was holding onto the shoe so tightly, her knuckles were turning white.

“y/n, take a chance with me, would you? i’ve always noticed the both of you looking at us but it always bothered me that i have no idea who either of you are looking at--”

he dodges a side swing, and your view of heejae trying to reach him was pretty hilarious, if you weren’t acting as his shield.

“what makes you think she’ll say yes?! she can’t even choose--”

“i do, heejae,” finally, you’ve decided to shoot your shot. heejae freezes with the shoe in mid-air, and hyunjae’s hold on your shoulders tighten. “i’ve only said i can’t choose only because i didn’t want you to know that it was your brother i liked.”

you couldn’t believe what was coming out of your mouth. all that effort to keep it hidden only to expose yourself infront of both heejae and her brother at once?!

she looked like she wanted to slap you with the shoe now, and you flinch when she shifts, closing your eyes to brace for impact.

but it doesn’t come.

you open one eye and look at her, and she looked like she’s completely resigned to fate. she shakes her head like your mother would when you did something stupid, and she squats to get her shoe back on her feet.

“i give up,” she grunts, shoving her feet into her shoe and tying the laces messily before standing up again. “of all eleven of them, him?” she raises an agitated brow and points to the boy hiding behind you.

“it wouldn’t have been so annoying if it had been one of his friends, but him?!”

you turn back to look at hyunjae, who was giving you puppy eyes as if he was already your boyf--

too fast.

“does it look like i chose to like him?” you pout, hands reaching out to her and trying to play for affection.

“for fucks’ sake,” she groans, face palming herself. “now i’m going to look like a shitty friend and sister if i don’t let you two date.”

“on the bright side..” you pull her into a hug and tighten your hold, knowing that whatever you were going to say next was going to warrant another violent outburst from her. “if hyunjae and i date, that means the deal’s broken and...”

“you can talk to eric now.”

“AH! SO IT’S ERIC?!”

#timetohajima #hyunjae #lee hyunjae #lee jaehyun #the boyz #the boyz hyunjae #the boyz one shot #the boyz scenario #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagine #hyunjae one shot #hyunjae scenario #hyunjae fanfic #hyunjae imagine #timetohajima playlist feels

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buckysmischief · 4 years ago

Text

pinch me, i'm dreaming

Scott Lang x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: A trip to San Francisco reveals a side of Scott you didn’t know about

Warnings: language, fluff, a little angsty if you squint

AN: this is for @starspangledseb ‘s writing challenge, sorry it’s so late. I hope you like it 💙 prompt is bolded

Masterlist

“I just don’t see why we have to stay with Scott.”

“We can’t stay in San Francisco and not stay with Scott, Yn, that’s just rude.”

“Come on Sam,” Bucky chimed in, “you know why she doesn’t want to go.”

“Oh, yeah, you’ve gotta thing for tic tac.” Sam knew what he was doing, and you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

He wasn’t wrong though, you do have feelings for Scott, but he was with Hope and you weren’t a homewrecker. It was pretty easy to suppress those feelings when you lived on the other side of the country, what were you supposed to do sleeping under the same roof?

“I will put this jet so deep into the pacific, don’t think I won’t.” You had two options: suck it up and act like a normal person, or possibly set yourself up to get your heart a little broken.

If you didn’t already know for a fact you were going to embarrass yourself, things might be different, but things just happened when you were around Scott. Like the time Sam had a dinner party and was passing out the food, Spaghetti had fallen in Scott’s lap and for whatever reason you jumped to help. Hope had walked in while he was unbuttoning his flannel and you were gripping his bicep, just trying to get him cleaned up.

“Don’t think too much about it, Yn.” Bucky tried to calm your nerves, but it was too late for that. “Just say you’re tired from the mission and flying and just go to bed, I’ll even sneak you some food later if you want.” It wouldn’t be a lie, and if Hope was there it would probably be for the best.

Unfortunately though, Scott seemed to have other ideas.

“Hey guys, hey Yn.” He always seemed to be smiling, but you could have sworn it got a little bigger after saying your name. “I figured you guys might be hungry so I ordered food, it just got here maybe five minutes ago.”

The table only had four places set, so Hope probably wasn’t there, but Sam couldn’t resist himself, “Is Hope not here or-”

“We broke up a few weeks ago, it was a mutual thing.” He was answering Sam, but his eyes kept darting to you.

“Mutual?” Sam asked, knowing there was more.

“Okay, so maybe it was more my decision.” That got your attention. “She didn’t fight it though.”

The possibility of Scott being single wasn’t anything you considered before, but now it was mind consuming. So much so that you didn’t notice everyone was done eating until they were getting up from the table.

Bucky had mentioned something about watching a movie, and by the time you got to the living room the only seat left was on the loveseat next to Scott. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Sam and Bucky did it on purpose. Now that Hope was out of the picture, nothing was going to stop them from messing with you.

“I thought you might want a blanket,” he whispered as you sat beside him. With a smile you thanked him, but warning him it might make you fall asleep before the movie really even got started. “I can sit on the floor if you want to lay down-”

“Please don’t..” The words came out desperate and whiney, thankfully Bucky and Sam didn’t seem to notice. Scott smiled and covered you with the oversized blanket. Gathering all the confidence you had, you gestured for him to cover up too. It was cold inside, and it wasn’t fair he was the only one without a blanket. Just as predicted, though, you were asleep before a movie was even picked.

It had to have been after midnight when you woke up. The TV was still on, Sam and Bucky were nowhere in sight, and your head was in someone’s lap. Oh shit, Scott.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you..”

“It’s fine, you moved around a lot at first and somehow found your way here.” He looked down at you and moved the hair out of your face. “Go back to sleep.”

He said it so naturally, like this was something that happened between you two every night. For the first time you let your imagination run wild with thoughts of him. Was waking up to him always this peaceful? Was he the type to fall asleep with you on the couch, or would he carry you to bed? Was he even the cuddling type?

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then you can help me pack up some stuff.”

“What kinda stuff?” You sat up and tried to fix your bed head.

He smirked, “Stuff for New York.” Apparently while you were sleeping, the boys had convinced Scott to get away from San Francisco for a few weeks.

You followed him to his room and picked out his outfits while he got all his Ant-Man gear together. This was the first time you were ever truly alone with Scott and it felt more normal than it should. Nothing felt awkward, nothing embarrassing happened, it was nice.

When everything was packed, Scott shrunk his bags down so they would fit in his suitcase keychain. He could tell you weren’t ready to go back to sleep, even though you both looked exhausted, so he took you back downstairs. “What are we doing?”

“I want to show you something.” He put his hand in yours and led you through the basement and to a room behind a bookcase. It was filled with different suits, gadgets, tools, and a wall of glass that covered the dirt. “I wanted the ants to have their own area that didn’t feel like it was a part of some science experiment, there’s glass tunnels so they can come and go but you should see the colonies they made in the dirt. It’s amazing.”

“It’s beautiful.” You whispered, watching the ants move around the tunnels. “You didn’t show Sam and Bucky?”

“I haven’t shown this room to anyone.” He didn’t move from behind you, but you could see him in the reflection of the glass.

That was the ego boost you needed apparently. You turned around and looked into his eyes, they were tired but focused only on you. “I’m glad that not everyone gets the privilege to see this side of you, then. It makes me feel more special.”

Again he smiled down at you, placing his hand behind the nape of your neck like it was always meant to be there, “Then I know exactly what I’ll be doing the next few weeks.”

“What?”

“Doing whatever I can to always make you feel more special.” How was this not a dream? It’s not a dream… right? “Do you want some coffee?” You nodded and followed him up the stairs, not remembering a time he’s sounded so serious.

Sitting in the kitchen, you noticed the sun was going to come out soon, which meant the boys wouldn’t be asleep much longer. No matter what timezone they were in or how sleep deprived they were - if the sun was up, they were up. Whatever Scott wanted to say, you just hoped he said it before one of them came downstairs and ruined the moment.

He prepared everything in silence, waiting until he handed you a steaming cup with some cream and sugar on the side. “For a long time I knew I had feelings for you, but I didn’t know what they were exactly...”

He paused to take a sip of his coffee and continued. “It wasn’t too long after Sam’s dinner and the spaghetti incident, remember that?” You nodded, slightly surprised that he remembered.

“Well, after Hope and I got back she.. She would get upset whenever you were brought up, like when I got called in on missions that you were on. I didn’t understand until after the rescue mission in Vegas-”

“You were there?” It shouldn’t have been a surprise considering it was a rescue mission for you.

“Yeah, Tony called and said you were kidnapped. I asked him where you were and left without saying anything to Hope, it was like my body was on autopilot.. After I got back Sam called and told me you finally woke up.. that’s when I realized what the feelings were and why Hope was getting so upset, she saw what I didn’t.”

“And those feelings are what exactly?”

“The kind where I’ve been wanting to kiss you since you walked through my front door, the kind that made me stay awake for hours even though I’m beyond tired because I wanted to appreciate every second I had. Sam was dropping hints all night to just make a move but didn’t think you felt the same, I still don’t-”

Before he could finish, Bucky walked in the kitchen and did exactly what you knew he’d do. “Stop rambling, she likes you too. Now just kiss the damn girl and let’s go.”

“DAMN IT Bucky! Don’t you have anyone back in the 40’s you can go back to like Steve did?!” He stood there in shock, realizing he should have just waited an extra five minutes at the top of the stairs.

While you yelled at Bucky, Scott made his way around the kitchen island and did exactly as Bucky suggested and kissed you right there. It was a moment you only thought would exist in your dreams, except for Bucky standing seven feet away and Sam sitting on the stairs giving Scott two thumbs up. It took Sam physically pulling you away from Scott for you to come up for air.

“If either of you mention this to anyone I’ll get Scott to put ants in your ears.” You threatened, knowing they already got the proof they needed.

In the end it didn’t matter though, it took less than an hour for Tony to notice that Scott was never more than a foot away from you. Sam and Bucky’s laughter was all the confirmation everyone needed, but what surprised you the most was money being passed all around the room. “You’re all assholes, I hope you know that.”

Permanent tags (50/50): @sociallyeneptbarnes @hopesbarnes @saturn-aka-six @stuckonjbbarnes @superavengerpotterstar @estillion14 @sleepingspacedragon @geeksareunique @infj-slytherclaw @imsoft-barnes @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @murdermornings @distractedgemini @screaming-fridge @readeity @whatinthyworld @my-drowning-in-time @valkyriesryde @buggy-blogs @hey-its-grey @pinknerdpanda @brokenthelovely @theannoyingnightmarecollector @death-unbecomes-you @rhymesmenagerie @ptrprkrss @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @mushyjellybeans @https-bucky @also-fangirlinsweden @goalexis123 @missmeganrachel @sunflowersandcherry @miraclesoflove @matsumama @reann-loves-sebstan @thinkoutsidethebex @thefridgeismybestie @niall2017 @maddope @imagine-all-the-imagines @thummbelina @m3ga1nsp1r3d @starspangledseb @thebadassbitchqueen @king-sebb @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @bonkyboinkybucky @slaytherinthoughts @candydancey

#scott lang x reader #scott lang imagine #fluff #bucky barnes #sam wilson #tony stark #mcu fanfic #marvel

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larrivex · 3 years ago

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Homie u KNO I gotta ask u for the larrivex for those hcs

where they first met and how

i have no reasoning for this but i feel ghastly (with help from hopeless) first recruited larrikin who was STARSTRUCK but very good at hiding it. probably just in some random tent in the middle of ireland a few weeks after ravel was captured

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

OH MY GOD SOOOO LONG....... ok they met in 1850 they got together 40 YEARS LATER THEYRE IDIOTS. they both caught feelins pretty quick but larrikin dismissed his (he gets fleeting crushes often) and dexter did a terrible job of hiding his

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

hm.... i mean lbr larrikin saw him shirtless the first time and that cemented it in his mind they had to at least sleep together. then they had their longass song and dance through the centuries. i think larrikin fell for dex furst but def denied it for longer

where their first date was and what it was like

uh canon they. well they were a bit busy i dont think theyd have one? though tanith and saracen seem to count "lying amongst the carnage of battle" a date so i guess they did that a lot. larrikin lives au though it was probably some small beach along the countryside. they had a fun mountainclimb too! :D

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

I HAVE A FIC FOR THIS. NO SPOILERS (ok small spoiler: 1890s ball)

who proposes first

they dont, really? they dont need it. i like the idea of them having matching tattoos tho (not just bc i want dex to have tattoo. ok mostly bc of that)

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

they TRIED. but theyre too fucking giddy and more than a bit handsy and literally everyone knew as soon as they got back

if they adopt any pets together

i think if they ever settled down (unlikely, neither are homebirds) they may get a cat. or multiple cats. and some dogs. they both like animals :D

who’s more dominant

they switch :)

where their first kiss was and what it was like

THIS ONE IS IN THE FIC NO SPOILERS (BALLROOM DANCING)

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? )

OH MY GOD DO THEY...... they have sooooo fucking many. gag gifts from the dead men,actual sentimental things, little trinkets from souvenir shops

how into pda they are

oooh, depends. theyre not the handholdy sort but theyll sit closer together when theyre in a group, dance every opportunity, and random kisses when they feel safe

who holds the umbrella when it rains

thats assuming they even own an umbrella?? poor adepts are too used to having elemental friends

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

anywhere and everywhere outside. beaches, mountains, forests... long walks in the middle of nowhere without stressing over being attacked at any moment are their favourite

who’s more protective

dexter. he watched larrikin almost die once, and its NOT happening again

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

sharing a bed? pretty soon after they met (it gets cold in ireland at night!!! it was DEFINITELY just for warmth). tbh itd be pretty bad form to fuck when ur friends are light sleepers in the tent next to you idk maybe they got creative

if they argue about anything

after a few centuries you get most of the real arguments out of the way,but they probably have random spats about trivial shit randomly

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

anywhere people wouldnt normally see is free game. dex is probably more into it though

who steals whose clothes and how often

dexter would rip larrikins clothes idc how built lar is dexter is 6'2 and larrikin is 5'9 MAX. larrikin will appropriate dexters old tshirts into sleepwear most of the time

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

both of them in the weirdest position possible and taking up the most space, yet somehow still holding on go each other :3

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

physical? just lying in bed together. just in general? again, adventuring or going on some hike, or just hanging out with friends

how long they stay mad at each other

the longest was almost a decade (they can both be stubborn) but usually no longer than a week

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

black, but they both like to add sugar. theyre just used to going without

if they ever have any children together

definitely not

if they have any special pet names for each other

their favourite game is coming up with the dumbest terms of endearment. i think they would be overjoyed at "my beloved" becoming a popular phrase

if they ever split up and / or get back together

never officially, but theyve definitely had time apart

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

somehow a mix of military neatness and frat house

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

considering it was the middle of a war, just chilling around a campfire with the rest of the dead men. they took care to place their tent much further away than usual ;)

what their names are in each other’s phones

in line with their petname game, they change pretty often. sonetimes the others will steal their phones to make them normal, after some badguy or another saw dexter hang up a call from "beloved wife" (changed by saracen actually, from something a LOT dirtier) and suddenly rumours were spreading of dexter vex having a secret mortal wife

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

adventuring!! all the time. but they have special places to go on their "birthdays"

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

larrikin for both. hes a light sleeper but god can he just drop on the spot

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

they swap!!!!

who hogs the bathroom

...am i allowed to say they uh. both do ;)

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

either. but dexter prefers to put them outside and larrikibs is taking after him

#ur insane for thisssss IT TAKES ME SO LONG TO WRITE THESE. ily though it firces me to think abt them indepth more #vexasks #train whistles at night #skulduggery pleasant #dexter vex #larrikin #larrivex #laxter #long post #scheduling this for. Not 4am

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