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n0vazsq · 3 days ago

Text

Valentine | JMM3 x Reader

pairing . . . pepe marti x blind!date!reader

summary . . . Your best friend, Gaby, set you up with a blind date and is forcing you to go. Little did you know, it was with your celebrity crush, Pepe

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . christina nadin

alexavia yaps . . . HAPPY VALENTINES GANGALANG!!!!! so sorry if its short or lacks content but i have my scholarship exam tmrw and i need to study!! i might write a oneshot later today but until now ill only post this!! each post is kind of a monthly update of their relationship up until valentines!!

yourusername

liked by gabyprentice_, christian.mansell, yourbsf and 2.1K others

yourusername it's still november and my best friend is forcing me to go on a blind date so i can get a valentine Tagged: gabyprentice_

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gabyprentice_ you should thank me

yourusername no?

gabyprentice_ you really will after you see him

christian.mansell trust me y/n you will

yourusername WHO IS HE

gabyprentice_ it's called a blind date for a reason

christian.mansell i can't wait to see your reaction when you see who it is

gabyprentice_ neither can i

username1 so prettyyy

username2 the breakfast looks so good

username3 let us know who he is

yourusername i will once i know who he is myself

username3 the suspense is killing me omgg

username4 praying for y/n bc blind dates never end well

username5 i just know christian and gaby made y/n's life a living hell with this date

username6 WHAT IF ITS PEPE

username7 WAIT IT COULD BE

username8 woah

username9 y/n please post more updating us about the mystery date

yourbsf who's that gorgeous lady

yourusername me

yourbsf you can't be this beautiful also send me your reaction when you see the blind date

yourusername wow okay SO YOU KNOW WHO HE IS TOO??

gabyprentice_ we told her

yourusername AND NOT ME?

yourbsf its a BLIND date

yourusername i will ram your head into the wall 😊

username10 you shoud update us every month until valentines so we can see the relationship progress

username11 yess omg pls do that y/n

username12 man i love you for this

yourusername ill think about it

username13 how can someone be so prettyyyy

username14 this blind date lucky asf bc anyone is BLESSED if they just get one look at y/n

username15 meow

username16 real

username17 screaming crying throwing up why coyldnt it be me

username18 this is pinterest aesthetic coded

username19 SO PRETTYYYYYYYY

username18 queen

username19 fr fr

username20 MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS SHIT I NEED TO KNOW WHO MYSTERY MAN IS

yourusername

liked by gabyprentice_, christian.mansell, yourbsf and 2.2K others

yourusername best dinner date i've ever had (i'm not talking about the food) Tagged: pepemartiofficial

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username21 EH???

username22 HER CELEBITY CRUSH LMFAO

username23 i feel like she wont be hating christian and gavby so much anymore

username24 HOW ARE THEY BOTH SO PRETTYYYY

username25 my kind of love frrr

username26 no.1 couple argument closed

username27 sigh i wish i was a wag

pepemartiofficial i'm glad you enjoyed it!

yourusername i had so much fun!! thank you for not leaving me when i panicked

pepemartiofficial maybe we can both have a redemption? next week?

yourusername i'd love that!

gabyprentice_ i'll text you each others numbers <3

yourusername we already exchanged them

username28 MR MARTI i was NOT aware of your game

username29 i live for these updates

username30 y/n me on my KNEES

username31 what id pay to be pepe

christian.mansell didn't go so bad, did it?

yourusername SHUT UP you could've matched us like way sooner

christian.mansell it was fun seeing you panic

yourusername SHUT UP

christian.mansell so violent and for what?

username32 OKAY OKAY I SEE THE VISION

username33 shes so pretty omgggg

username34 idk if i want to be y/n or pepe

username35 holy shit hes gorgeous

username36 came here for pepe stayed for y/n

yourbsf woah youre so hot

yourusername youre hotter

yourbsf nahhh youre way hotter

yourusername yk who is hotter than all of us

yourbsf oh god not again

yourusername i texted you the name 😈

yourbsf i was expecting it

christian.mansell 🏃🏃

yourbsf what are you running to...?

christian.mansell the y/n blind date plan gc

yourusername WHAT

yourusername add me i want to see what you three are saying about me

gabyprentice_ no way

yourusername come on guys i just want to see

yourbsf nuh uh

christian.mansell don't even try i'm saying no

yourusername sigh i deserve better friends

gabyprentice_ reminder that we set you up on this date

yourusername yeah yeah i said im grateful

yourbsf you better be

username37 man i love them

username38 HELP THE GC LORE IS INSANE

username39 did yourbsf just expose them or

username40 i feel like im intruding reading the comments between them

NEW NOTIFICATION: pepemartiofficial has started following you !

pepemartiofficial

liked by christian.mansell, yourusername, isackhadjar and 122K others

pepemartiofficial barcelona in december 🤍

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username41 A SOFT LAUNCH??? EH????

username42 THE PICS??? EXCLUSIVE SUBSCRIPTION??? EXCUSE ME???

username43 how is he so good looking

username44 the face card is INSANE

username45 I NEED THIS SO BADLY UGHHHHHHH

username46 STOP WHO IS THIS

username47 need a boyfriend like him

christian.mansell i see the soft launch vision

pepemartiofficial okay christian

sebasmontoya58 hes getting brave with it

christian.mansell yes he is

sebasmontoya58 our little boy is growing up 😭

pepemartiofficial 🤨

mariboya64 he probably forgot about us now

christian.mansell he wont hang out with us like he used to

sebasmontoya58 he'll be acting more mature

mariboya64 now he'll ditch us for dates like this

pepemartiofficial no

sebasmontoya58 another man fallen down along christian and me

mariboya64 okay sebastian

christian.mansell HELP

pepemartiofficial you know our girlfriends created a gc and are planning against us

sebasmontoya58 yeah i'm in it

christian.mansell WHAT??? i'm forcing gaby and y/n to let me join

username48 who tf is y/n

username49 idk maybe she's mari's gf??

username50 her insta is yourusername she's pepe's gf

username51 if my bf aint like this ion want him

yourbsf ill admit this is actually cute

pepemartiofficial thank you!!

yourusername we're not cute we're hot

yourbsf you're both tho

pepemartiofficial true

gabyprentice_ why'd you have to ruin such a beautiful and innocent moment

pepemartiofficial life

yourusername WORDS 🗣️ 💯🙏❗

username52 legit can't decide if i should cry or clap

username53 oh how i need this more than oxygen

username54 so um whens the wedding

username55 whens the hard launch more like

username56 y/n fans living the life we knew about this before all of you

username57 im sighing dreamily at these pictures

username58 THE PICS.

username59 giggling blushing and kicking my feet

username60 when will pepe post more y/n sigh

yourusername how are you so gorgeous

pepemartiofficial i should be asking YOU that

yourusername omg i'm blushing you flatter me

pepemartiofficial shouldn't be flattery if it's the truth

yourusername love youuuu

pepemartiofficial love you more

NEW NOTIFICATION: user171, user89, user514 and 102K others have started following you !

yourusername

liked by pepemartiofficial, gabyprentice_, christian.mansell and 102K others

yourusername january 2025 life updates: 1. me and the 6 foot skyscraper are still together, 2. i might have a chance at getting a valentine, 3. my gallery is full of pictures of pepe, 4. me, gaby, pepe and christian have went on 17 double dates in 2024 Tagged: pepemartiofficial

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username61 how to kms no borax no glue

username62 people DIED (i'm people)

username63 THE LOOK OF LOVE

username64 THE RUSH OF BLOOD

username65 THE SHES WITH ME IS THE GALLIC SHURG

username66 its not a want its a NEED

username67 17 double dates in two months is crazy

username68 i just KNOW their kids will be BEAUTIFUL

username69 face card never declined

username70 and never will

mariboya64 don't go stealing around our best friend like gaby did with christian

sebasmontoya58 i dislike wags always stealing our friends

yourusername im just the girlfriend 😔

gabyprentice_ me too 😔

littlefoxhermes i see

sebasmontoya58 no wait i'm sorry

pepemartiofficial haha

username72 Y/N FINALLY GOT THE VALENTINE SHE WANTED!!!!!

username73 y/n x gaby

username74 the otp fr

username75 the lack of pepe is concerning

username76 fr like WHERE IS HEEEEEE

pepemartiofficial add more photos of your beautiful face

yourusername i want to see YOUR beautiful race

pepemartiofficial running

username77 there he is

yourbsf please please please don't force me to get a date for valentines i promise i had nothing to do with you getting spray painted on the street on 17th may

yourusername sorry?

username78 SPRAY PAINTED???

username79 theyre more chaotic than we thought oh my god

username80 aww y/n looks so cute

chirstian.mansell is he giving a presenation

pepemartiofficial no i was describing my love for her

yourusername oh...😊 josep maria marti you make me blush

yourbsf pepe? what did we talk about?

pepemartiofficial im sorry pls dont kill me

yourbsf i wont just because you take photos of my beautful girl

yourusername i love you your/bsf/name

yourbsf love you too y/n

yourusername i love you so much pepe 🤍

pepemartiofficial love you more mi linda

yourusername

liked by pepemartiofficial, gabyprentice_, christian.mansell and 106K others

yourusername i blinked and suddenly i had a valentine Tagged: pepemartiofficial

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username81 deleting all my socials after this

username82 they are SOULMATES vro

username83 this screams 'forever and always'

username84 Y/N FINALLY GOT THE VALENTINE SHE WANTED AND DESERVED

username85 legit fairytale vibes

username86 imagine being this in love

gabyprentice_ to think this all started with a blind date

christian.mansell it's crazy

yourbsf and now they can't be seperated for more than 15 minutes

username87 LAUFEY!!!!!!!!

username88 i am JEALOUS, ENVIOUS, GREEN.

username89 i mean they were bound to meet sooner or later bc of christian being a mutual friend

username90 they ARE the main characters

username91 FRR like everyone else is just a side character

username92 alexa play 'that should be me' by justin bieber

yourbsf my girl finally got the valentine she deserved

yourusername all thanks to you, christian and gaby <33 love you guys smm

yourbsf np bby <33 love youuuu

gabyprentice_ we love you more!!

christian.mansell 🥹 y/n being mature for once

username93 HSHSHSH MY FAVVV SONG

username94 STOP I CANT WAIT TO SEE HER IN THE PADDOCK

username95 if they break up then love isnt real

gabyprentice_ you two deserve it! take care of my little sister pepe

yourusername GABYYYY STOP

pepemartiofficial will do

yourusername i love my life

pepemartiofficial and i love you

username96 i just know they are each other's ride or dies

username97 where to buy a pepe asking for a friend

username98 if i could id just take over one of their bodies to experience this love

username99 im waiting for the fics

username100 straight out of romeo and juliet

yourusername i love you so so so much 🤍 you are everything to me mr marti

pepemartiofficial youre my everything too, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir (I love you more than words can say)

yourusername STOP IM GOING TO CRY 🫶🥹 I LOVE YOU SO SO SO MUCH

pepemartiofficial I LOVE YOU MORE THAN EVERYTHING MI LINDA

yourusername has posted a new story !

caption: best valentines date 🫶🤍 te amo mucho my love mi hermoso 🤍

click to view all messages

username101 HAPPY VALENTINESSS

username102 im screaming this is so romantic

username103 he could do so much better than you

username104 i wish i was a wag

username105 so prettyyyyy

pepemartiofficial i love you so much mi linda 🤍

yourusername i love so much more hermoso 🤍🤍

pepemartiofficial forever

yourusername and always

fin.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @hwalllllllelujah ,, @parkerloves ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

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ladyloveandjustice · 10 hours ago

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I mean, Legend of Lattes did have a conflict, her coffee place straight up burned down? It wasn't a major focus for most of the book but it happened.

I've only read a few cozy fantasy things, and didn't find a few of them super memorable myself, but the definition of cozy fantasy is pretty broad from what I've seen. Emily Wilde is categorized as that and it is FULL of conflict and action and has some great and memorable characters.

But people have always liked stuff that's low tension/stakes/fluffy. See coffee shop aus in fanfic, or fanfic tagged fluff. See slice of life anime where characters are just hanging out. It's not a new thing. People have always wanted to watch or read things that just give cozy vibes and allow them to hang out with characters. The book industry realizing there was a market for that was inevitable. If it's not for you, it's not for you, but it's obviously for someone or it wouldn't be doing well.

I also think this is a good example of how condescending we can get when talking about a genre we don't like. Rather than say "it's not for me, I don't find the characters memorable and want better stakes, maybe there should be more variety" (which was more where OP was at) it has to be somehow bad for people to read it and write it. like...

And so sometimes it feels impossibly challenging to write any book except one where nothing bad happens and nothing is in danger and nobody is really bothered or worried about anything and everything is mostly fine and there aren't any major setbacks…..

That is a hell of a condescending assumption to make about those writers. Jesus. I'm a professional author too, but I would not want to make these assumptions about my fellow writers.You don't know if they're doing it because it's easy, or if they're doing it because they felt there was a need for it, or it was just an idea they liked writing. You don't like it, great. That doesn't mean those writers are slacking off or doing something wrong somehow. You don't know that they don't also write books with tension and conflict. I feel like most of them probably have, actually. Assuming they sat down and thought "omg this will be easy I'm so lazy" is just...do you make the same assumption about romance writers? It can get pretty formulaic, but that doesn't mean it's easy to write. Have you tried to write a cozy fantasy and sell it and make it do well? If not, I don't think you should talk about how easy it is.

But that leaves readers cold.

I mean not all readers obviously, since it wouldn't be doing well or selling well?

And frankly, I don't feel like it does much of anything to nourish either our souls or theirs.

It feels like eating a bag of potato chips for dinner instead of going to the effort of even just heating up a frozen dinner that has a vegetable in it.

Why does reading HAVE to "nourish your soul", whatever that means? What's wrong with eating a bag of potato chips? You teach college, so I wonder if you've ever run into a colleague who thinks this way about regular fantasy and sci-fi. Where they think that genre fiction is inherently more disposable and less challenging than literary fiction. I've sure as hell run into those professors, that look down on readers and writers of "commercial fiction", and I've seen the bad impact they have on their students. Do you agree with them? Because you're sounding a lot like them right now. This is the exactly the kind of argument they'd make.

You don't know whether these people don't also read books with more stakes or a variety of genres as well. Low effort reading has it's place, it just maybe shouldn't be the only thing you read if you want to actually experience the breadth of literature.

And I see this a lot in the book community, but dissing the stuff people are into and saying they need to challenge themselves more or they won't be smart like you (I see this with YA a lot too) is not going to convince them. It frames reading as a chore, and people often don't like doing chores in a life full of them, and reading is a hobby for a lot of people. Rather that say "you need to read this to better your mind" say what can be interesting or intriguing about these books that are more challenging, what kind of cool things you can get from them. Sometimes it seems to me like the point of these arguments is to feel superior, rather than actually convince people.

Nothing's wrong with reading low effort books or watch low effort shows--it's when say, a YA reader says books are inherently flawed if they don't spell things out like YA sometimes does or has more challenging themes. Or a cozy fantasy reader acting like all books should be cozy fantasy and books with tension are bad. Those are the people that ruin the discourse. But, doing the inverse isn't any better.

idk, man. I've taught university classes about this shit, but what do I know.

I teach grad school classes on writing, (I don't like to pull that card, since it's not like teachers can't have flawed ideas about their subject but since we're here) and have taught similar lessons. Yet, here's what I think I do know: telling students the genre they write is wrong is not something a teacher should do. Those literary fiction professors love doing that, and I'm not them.

As a teacher with a variety of students in a variety of genres, I have to read genres I don't like all the time--god I hate most 'dark romance' and man do I not get or like omegaverse, but I sure as hell had to read both. But just because I don't like them doesn't mean they're worthless, or there isn't a market for them, or it's wrong to write them. So I put those feelings aside, think about what kind of help the student needs to be successful in their chosen genre, and what the audience would want, because that will help them improve. (though I do try to hint if something seems like, incredibly sexist, that maybe we should reconsider that, or look at it from all angles and decide if it's something the story needs). And at the same time, I do teach them basic lessons on how to structure a story, and what's good about conflict, stakes, etc.

But I wouldn't tell any of them they're wrong for writing cozy fantasy even if it's not always my cup of tea, because there is a market for it, and I want them to do well at it and do what they love. What pays the bills pays them, and if you actually like what you do, that's also important. Writers do need to challenge themselves, which is why I encourage students to be open minded about all genres, try out writing them, try writing different POVs, different stuff even if they don't publish it, because that can only help them get better at what they do. But if what they publish is cozy fantasy, hey, it gets them good money and they like doing it, that's more than I can say for most jobs.

Cozy Fantasy and Why It Doesn't Work

I think I am among many who feel like they should love cozy fantasy and have found it an incredibly lacking genre.

This newly branded "cozy fantasy" genre that has taken readers by storm since 2020 and while it is new that books are now marketed as cozy, the genre itself isn't new. Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a great example of the genre before it was labeled and also how to make it work.

Cozy fantasy is defined by many as fantasy with low stakes. Fantasy aesthetic but less sword fights. On paper, it sounds great. But the execution has been less than stellar for readers like me. The lack of physical stakes has also impacted the emotional stakes of these books, creating forgettable characters with boring problems. As a romance reader, I find this frustrating. Romance is known for being a predictable and formulaic genre, the now defunct Romance Writers of America defined romances as needing happy endings, a term romances have continued to follow. Yet these romance texts manage to have low physical stakes (how to date your neighbor, how to confront your toxic friends, etc) while still maintaining high personal stakes that keep readers invested and begging for more. So I was initially confused why cozy fantasy authors struggle to write texts that connect to readers like me.

I think I have found the answer which is the genre is just here for vibes. It is all about aesthetic, not even worldbuilding that fantasy is known for as most cozy fantasy I read have so many problems as soon as you ask one question. It is hard to acknowledge that a genre that is pitched to work for readers like me doesn't work for many of us. Especially because occasionally there is one that works beautifully to my taste.

I often say my favorite cozy fantasies that are more contemporary are short and visual, which I plays into the idea of the genre being an aesthetic. The Bakery Dragon by Devin Elle Kurtz is a good example because it is a simple story that is given the perfect amount of pages and gorgeous visuals without dragging on when the message is very clear and easy to understand. Books like The Phoenix Keeper and Legends and Lattes have absolutely nothing for me, their very clear message hitting the reader over and over so the readers don't miss it and focusing on the aesthetic of worldbuilding rather than the reality of the fantastic elements within the world.

I guess my point is. . . I realize this genre isn't for me since I have realized it is more of an aesthetic than anything. .. .but I want it to be. Should I let it go and put my efforts elsewhere? Or should I keep exploring this new trend and find the hidden gems?

#writing #book talk #sorry...sometimes the tone of a thing gets to me even if i also don't care for the subject

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cherrycheolkat · 1 day ago

Text

• no blueberries, feat. mingyu, pt. 1 •

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader x christian yu (dpr ian - i use 'ian' - you'll see in part ii)

word count: 4.1K

genre: fake dating, college au, college student!mingyu, college student!reader, fluff, f2l, idiots, idiots in love, angst, pining, denial of feelings, exes to lovers, study abroad, established open relationship (reader x ian), rivalry (low key)

summary: mingyu was just your lab partner and study buddy for several semesters, but lately things seem to have changed, and maybe everyone else has noticed, but for the most part, neither of you even think about what you are to one another until mingyu asks you to be his 'fake' date for a long weekend trip so he can avoid an ex, the biggest problem is realizing that there's nothing fake about your relationship but when mingyu won't even talk about what you are to each other, you start to think things might be over before they even really start

warnings: explicit language, mentions of anxiety, sexually suggestive situations, drinking, established open relationship

a/n: they are literally idiots in love but they're so dumb they almost don't deserve a happy ending - i am screaming at them ;-; ooof writing part ii...and well, i need to update this with additional characters and genres...oops (if you don't know - i am not a planning writing - i just go where the characters take me - they get their shit together - trust the process) besides it's named for a dpr ian song anyway, might as well include him for his dilf status and the accent

xx kat

[part ii - in progress]

♡ if you would like to be tagged in my upcoming posts, go [here]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

“please, y/n,” he was definitely begging now.

she rolled her eyes, “dude, she’s your ex - you’re over her, just go and be normal, okay?” she was a bit annoyed at this point because he was over her, wasn't he, she wondered.

he whined softly, “seriously, just come with me, pretend you’re into me for like four days - i can’t deal with her, you know, alone,” she watched him stare at his textbook, looking fully embarrassed.

she blinked quickly wondering how she was the friend being enlisted for this - to her they were mainly lab partners and study buddies. she had no clue how he had decided they were close enough to even bring this idea up. but she did feel bad. even as lab partners, she knew his ex was genuinely horrible, as in her entire personality was “gaslight, gate keep, girl boss” - as though those were positive things no less.

she sighed, “i thought it was kind of a couples thing? since almost everyone is part of a couple,” she trailed off.

he nodded, “yeah, it is, but she’s going alone - she told someone her whole goal is to fuck me one more time,” he mumbled the last part, blushing hard, “apparently, she ‘misses’ that,” he rolled his eyes, looking miserable.

even she was shocked to hear that. it was certainly a new low.

“that’s - that’s really shitty,” she sighed, not knowing what else to say.

she watched him nod, still staring at his textbook, thumbing the edges of the page. she bit her lip gently, “can i think about it for a bit?”

he nodded, glancing up at her. she couldn’t help but notice how glossy his eyes looked - she worried he was on the verge of crying. she wasn’t equipped to deal with a crying mingyu. happy? sure. drunk? yes. whiny and ridiculous? no problem.

but to see him on the verge of tearing up because he was worried or stressed or whatever, that was beyond her friendship scope. but to be fair, fake dating probably was too. even if she knew some people did mistake them for a couple. that really wasn’t the point.

the point was the longer they sat there fake studying, she knew what she was going to do. she couldn’t sit back while he went off to a terrible trip to the lake where he might be the target of his ex’s sexcapades. she knew he hadn’t dated since her, which would just be a point againts him - she could easily imagine, ‘oh baby, you haven’t even tried since me?’ - gross, she thought. besides, if he were gone for the break, she wasn’t really sure what she would do anyway.

the standard was for them to study friday afternoon, and then they would usually met up at a party or something and would duck out for food when either of them got bored and go back to y/n's to watch tv and pass out. saturday was fairly similar, but sunday was more like study, and then they kind of always ordered food and watched tv or something. sometimes he slept on the couch - something her roommate would roll her eyes at whenever possible, espeically since ‘sometimes’ seemed to translate to almost every sunday.

she had finally told him to just bring clothes so he would't be late for monday morning practices anymore. her roommate had wondered loudly why mingyu didn't just move into y/n's room and get a tiny corner of the closet already. she had ignored that unnecessary commentary.

she groaned inwardly, “okay, fine - i’ll go with you, but you owe me,” you whispered.

he glanced up, “really?”

she ignored that he sounded a little too happy and nodded, “yes, if it means you can avoid her insanity for the long weekend,” she tried to feel confident about the decision.

luckily, she knew there was nothing between them. they’re only lab partners and maybe friends, at best, she tried to assure herself and ignore every other thought she had.

⋆˙⟡

she truly hated packing for anything, and this trip was no exception. the only slight difference was mingyu hanging out on her bed while she packed this time. she wasn’t sure if he was nervous or what, but he kept shifting around on her bed - it reminded her of a puppy rolling around in the hope that someone would rub its stomach. she tried not to laugh at the mental image of him rolling around in search of belly rubs. instead, she tried to focus on what to pack.

it was still warm enough to go swimming, despite the fact that it was ‘fall’ break, so she tried to decide on swimsuits. ultimately, she just packed them all - they were basically underwear anyway, she reasoned.

“are we sharing a room?”

“yeah, you know, since we’re together and ‘finally admitting it’ - is that really what jeonghan said?” he asked. he had been annoyed about that response for at least two hours.

“i literally showed you his text,” she mumbled as she hunted for friends-who-are-fake-dating appropriate sleepwear, aka her most oversized tshirts, sleep shorts that were as un-sexy as possible, and a few sweatshirts in case it was cold.

he sighed, “okay, but that’s such a flippant answer,” he complained.

she snorted, “‘flippant’?”

“yes!”

she grinned, wondering when he started using words like ‘flippant’ in normal conversations. mingyu was one of those guys who she hadn’t taken seriously when she first met him - he was fun at parties, but when he wanted to study together, she had been seriously skeptical. but then she saw their first exam grades post and realized how well he had ranked. she had wondered if it was just his personality or if he actively worked to hide the fact that he was that smart.

it hadn’t really mattered though since they had been studying together since then. something she distinctly remembered being an issue for his ex - katie had genuinely hated y/n and wasn’t quiet about it. it was maybe the only time she had seen mingyu fully lose his mind over something - she had never heard the words ‘get fucked’ said quiet so intensely, especially since that they were sitting in the library at the time.

she sighed, “don’t you think it might be a little obvious for us to show up together?”

“not really - she always said we had some weird thing, so why not let her be right,” his voice was concerningly normal.

she had been thinking about the fact that it was kind of a petty move. actually, there were loads of reasons she could think of for not going, including almost every scenario from a horror movie - she was not discounting serial killers in masks waiting in the woods. but her main concern was being confronted by katie - it just felt like a needlessly stressful way to spend her fall break.

“okay, but i mean, you couldn’t think of anyone else?"

he sighed, “like who? i hang out with you, i go out with you - you make sense,” his voice was soft, but he still sounded just a little disappointed that she was asking him…again.

she rolled her eyes, “we could just hang out like normal and avoid this.”

she glanced at him, watching him mull over what she had said and not for the first time either. to be fair, her anxiety was only growing. she left him to go pretend to be discerning about how much of her skincare she was packing, even though she was blindly grabbing everything from her counter. when she walked back into her room, he was sitting up.

“even if she’s there, the trip is just to have fun and not be on campus - you know, a break at joshua’s nice lake house,” he didn’t look at her as he explained.

she stared for a moment and turned back to her already exploding suitcase, “you only asked me because of her,” she felt like it was very obvious why she was going, but she heard him mumble something, which she ignored. instead, she violently jammed her clothes and toiletries into her bag.

she absolutely hated that knowing katie would be there made her feel a tiny bit competitive - she had purposefully picked all of her smallest swimsuits - she had even gone to get waxed for this, something she definitely would never admit to anyone. she had even dragged out her status luggage bag - the one her step-mom had given her two christmases ago that made her cringe. there was also the little, tiny mean voice in the back of her mind that had always thought katie had never been good enough for mingyu anyway - she wasn’t especially cute, and her voice drove y/n up the walls - not to mention she was kind of dumb and objectively sucked at beer pong. y/n would also never admit that she used to play them on purpose just to beat them because she was good at beer pong.

she jumped when mingyu touched her arm, “fuck, what?”

she hadn’t even noticed that he was lying on his side, watching her jam everything into her bag.

“you don’t have to go,” he whispered.

she swooped all of her hair off her shoulders in annoyance, mostly because there was something about the way he whispered, with this weird tenderness, that made her feel way too quivery. it wasn’t fair because she knew she never affected him like that. she just shook her head. she was totally fine with everything. plus, she didn’t believe him for a moment that she could just stay. she knew in her gut that she had moved something in their friendship past a boundary that she hadn’t even noticed, and now, she couldn’t just take it back without suffering the consequences.

⋆˙⟡

she was glad she was driving. she could at least focus on the road, plus they were the ones tasked with stopping at the liquor store, so she only had to deal with mingyu and seungcheol - she only wondered briefly why no one cared that seungcheol was solo for the long weekend. actually, it only annoyed her slightly that mingyu had left that fact out - she knew he could have spent the entire break with seungcheol, no problem, which only made her wonder why he really asked her. worse was her wondering why it seemed to matter that mingyu sounded disappointed at the idea of her not going, accepting but unhappy - not like he had been when she said ‘yes’.

she walked through the store, mainly looking for the things she wanted. her ideal party weekend was starting her day off with something bubbly and moving on to liquor by lunch. she wasn’t really paying attention to the cases of beer, tequila, and vodka mingyu and seungcheol were collecting. instead, she was in line to pay for her stuff and some edible gummy candies she noticed last minute - she grabbed several of those. she could’ve kicked herself for not asking her roommate’s girlfriend for some weed before she left. she waited next to her car for them to come out, answering a few texts. she ignored the ones from mingyu. she couldn’t help that she was from a family of people who completely avoided their emotions, plus she could see the message preview - it wasn’t anything life-changing.

when they came out, she wasn’t super shocked by the very full cart or the fact that they practically filled the back of her suv - they had to move their bags into the seat with seungcheol. it was like half the soccer team, their girlfriends, and friends for five nights, after all. the team wasn’t known for holding back at any of their parties - the rule was ‘no empties.’ she could only hope that the people getting food were grabbing enough to balance everything out.

the rest of the drive was uneventful. it was pretty though - even if it still looked like summer and not a bit like fall.

the house was a massive hunk of glass overlooking the lake. everything was very modern and sleek inside. she had been imagining something a little more cozy, less brutal. but that didn’t really matter, especially when they started divvying up the rooms - she and mingyu had a room that shared a bathroom with seungcheol’s room. and it hit her immediatly, mingyu was staying in seungcheol’s room. she wasn’t sure why it annoyed her, but it did, especially when she planned to be sharing a room with him.

she starfished out on the bed - her bed - and decided she would probably go home the next day. there was literally no reason for her to be here, and there probably never had been. also, sharing the bathroom with two whole ass guys just sounded miserable. she sat up after a few moments of moping, remembering the edibles she had - she ate three and dropped back onto the bed. she wasn’t planning on coming out of her room. mingyu could get fucked, she decided.

it was seungcheol who was leaning over when she woke up with a yelp, “what the fuck?” her heart was pounding.

he laughed, “sorry, mingyu wondered if you were okay, so i came to check,” he raised an eyebrow, “you seem alive, though,” he concluded.

she rolled her eyes, “thanks for the astute diagnosis, dr. choi,” she murmured and fell back onto the bed.

he laughed, “seriously though, you good?”

she exhaled loudly, “is he like standing in the bathroom or something?”

seungcheol shook his head.

“liar,” she groaned and rolled over, “i’m going home in the morning, so he can stop feeling whatever way he’s feeling.”

seungcheol looked surprised, “you’re just heading back? isn’t this like the first time you’ve like been somewhere together?”

she shrugged, “and?” your annoyance was definitely coming through, loud and clear.

seungcheol nodded, “right, you two have weird vibes, but look, i need him out of my room - my date is here, and i actually want to spend time with her.”

she could only roll her eyes, “so four people and one bathroom - this is only getting better,” she sighed, “i should just go home now.”

seungcheol shrugged, “whatever, just say it’s okay for him to come in here, so he stops whining in my room - it’s seriously killing my mood.”

“okay, whatever, i don’t care.”

this was truly going downhill as far as she was concerned. and why would mingyu be whining to seungcheol anyway, she wondered. she heard him come into the room, but she didn’t move. even when he sat on the bed, she stayed still.

“are you really leaving?”

she pressed her lips together, thinking, “probably not, but seriously, why did you even ask me?”

she had maybe run out of whatever annoyance she had felt before at being woken up out of nowhere, plus her edibles were wearing off. she sat up so she was next to him, “just tell me what this is - like i’m a buffer, right? but you didn’t tell anyone that i was just coming along, you told them we’re dating, and that comes with like expectations,” she trailed off.

“since when do you care about expectations?”

she wondered if smacking him would be too strong of a reaction.

this was all such a bad idea. she was going to have a shit weekend and probably lose her friend in the process.

⋆˙⟡

the rest of the night was uneventful, with everyone filtering in and no one eating at the same time. she grabbed food and something to drink and mostly avoided conversation, especially if it had to do with her and mingyu.

she also decided if she pretended this was like a retreat, she could just focus on swimming and hiking since, according to her phone, there were some great trails around. and obeying her fake retreat rules, she grabbed some extra water and headed to bed early - she needed to sleep if she was going to go for a sunrise swim. she was glad that she brought a sleep mask and ear plugs.

her only problem was mingyu’s texts. he hadn’t answered her question about why he asked her or explained why he went nuclear and told everyone they were dating. she had thoughts on what was going on, but she was as bad as he was. even lying in bed, in her not sexy at all clothes, her brain was in overdrive thinking about him in ways she didn’t want to be, especially since her phone kept going off. she knew he was thinking about her, even if it was this pretend, fake way - it didn’t matter. she pulled her pillow over her head to try to drown out the telltale buzzing. she refused to check her phone.

even when she finally heard the sounds of people going to bed. she cringed at the idea of seungcheol fucking. her gut reaction was that man would be loud.

she heard the footsteps outside their door, “come on mingyu - baby, just come to my room - you know you want to,” she sat up, knowing the voice immediately.

“no, i told you i’m not” — she heard the sudden wet sounds of a kiss.

“fuck, katie, stop - what are you not hearing?” she could hear the edge in his voice.

she sighed, she was technically there to help him avoid this kind of thing. she got out of bed and pulled off her sleep shorts, so she was clearly down to just her panties and tshirt, and tossed her sleep mask.

she walked to the door and opened it slowly, “gyu?” she made sure sleep was thick in her voice, as she pouted up at him adn tugged his shirt sleeve, “come to bed,” she whispered, biting her lower lip gently.

she didn’t even look at katie, just him.

he looked at her, “hey, baby,” he didn’t miss a beat, pulling away from katie as fast as he could and walking into their room after her, closing and locking the door.

she walked back over to the bed and flopped back onto the soft mattress, “helpful enough?” she asked.

the low light from outside was enough for her to see him nod, “sorry we woke you up,” his voice was soft.

she shook her head, “it’s fine, just come to bed - i want to swim in the morning,” she was already happily back under the duvet.

he was gone long enough for her to doze, but she opened her eyes when she heard him, “do you literally mean come to bed?”

she turned over and threw the covers back and patted the spot next to her. he still looked uncertain. she sighed and moved so she was on her knees - she grabbed his hand, “how much more of an invitation do you need?”

“you didn’t even check my messages,” his voice was so small - he sounded hurt.

she tried to find some answer in the way he was looking at her. but there was nothing besides the fact that she had hurt his feelings. ignoring him was the only thing she knew genuinely drove him nuts - he had told her when they were strictly lab partners how much he hated it - how much it annoyed him. she rarely ignored him. but she had tonight, mainly because her own thoughts were kind of fucked, seeing his stream of conciousness texts would have made it worse.

“so let me apologize,” she whispered, pulling his hand gently - it wasn’t lost on her that he was just in his underwear.

he let her pull him into bed, and she straddled him, reaching down to smooth his hair back from his face, “what hurts, baby?”

he touched his lips - she nodded, leaning down to kiss him softly. she held his jaw gently and kissed him slowly. she moaned faintly when she felt his hands ghost along her lower back and under her shirt. his hands were so warm, she shivered. she deepened their kiss, tracing her fingers through his hair as she did, loving how soft his hair was. they stayed that way, making out like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. even when she felt one of his hands slide down over the curve of her ass to trace his fingers under the hem of her panties, she didn’t break the kiss. she wasn’t worried about where his hands might wander. there were only so many things he could touch.

when she finally pulled away to breathe, she still played with his hair, “so, tell me what we’re doing, mingyu - so we both know, please.”

she could feel his hands on the backs of her thighs - he squeezed her thighs lightly, “what we do every weekend, y/n,” his voice was low.

she bit her lip softly, thinking about the weekend before, letting all her memories bubble to the top. her favorite part was the way he had held her back against his chest, leaning down to kiss her while he fucked her from below.

she shook her head gently, “just say it - tell me the way you told everyone else,” she murmured.

she waited for anything besides silence before sitting up and shaking her head. she moved to her side of the bed. she didn’t understand how they had gone so fluidly from one thing to another without really talking about it at all. but then again, that was maybe exactly how it happened - they hadn’t called it anything - it was just what they did. and she hadn’t cared about what it was anymore than he had until he brought it up - until he told people what they were. but somehow, that was the fake part - actually calling it a relationship wasn’t real, even though they had clearly been more than friends or anything else for months.

⋆˙⟡

she went to sleep purely for spite. and when she woke up with her alarm, she slipped out of bed, grabbed her swimsuit and went to change. it was when she walked out of the bathroom and by the bed that she felt him grab her hand gently, “are you really going out?”

she nodded, “yeah, why shouldn’t i do the stuff i want?”

“i didn’t say you shouldn’t,” he let go of her, sighing as he shifted around under the duvet.

she didn’t repsond, instead, she just grabbed her stuff and went quietly through the house and out the back. she walked along the dock, pausing at the end for a moment before jumping into the cool waters. even when she surfaced, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. she floated, thinking about the fact that whatever they were was only nameless when they were alone. she laughed to herself.

she got out when she started to feel chilly. she dried off and walked back to the house. she poked around the kitchen to find something for breakfast and some ice - she had kept her own drinks in their room, knowing they would be gone otherwise.

she went back to their room, bypassing the bed in favor of going onto the balcony they had. she hadn’t looked at it the night before. she only went back in to grab a bottle of champagne. she popped the cork, not really caring that it wasn’t chilled yet. she sipped it before sticking the bottle in the ice she had gotten. she ate fruit and some leftover steak she had found in the fridge. she scrolled through her socials.

a few of her friends had messaged to ask if she were really dating mingyu - her blanket response was easy, ‘no.’

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

a/n: told you they are dumb af...trust the process, yes they're about to be messy af...but i only write happy endings

♡ kat

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

tag list: @syluslittlecrows

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

#svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu angst #kim mingyu angst #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu fic #svt angst #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #seventeen fanfic #kim mingyu fanfic #mingyu fanfic #seventeen x reader

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irregularcollapse · 2 days ago

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Hey, I'm so sorry to hear about how you feel about the mota fandom and what happened to you :/ I meant to send a message earlier but life got in the way. I hope you're feeling better now, and I can only tell you that your fics and writing are some of my favorite in the fandom. Just by reading your stories, I can tell the care that was put into choosing each word to best convey the story and the characters' feelings, and it is really somethinf I admire :) I hope I can be as good a writer as you someday ❤️ And for the mota fandom, I totally get what you and that anon said! If you'll allow me a bit of a rant, to me, the mota fandom is full of well-intentioned people but I found that one of its problems is that, as much as there is enthusiasm, it is going in circles. Many have said it and I've noticed it too, but some have a tendency to jump on other people's ideas without giving credit or even asking if it's okay to expand, and on more than one occasion I found one of my ideas in someone else's inbox just a week after I'd posted it which threw me off posting any kinds of hc or random ideas, I only post full fics now because I'm scared that people will see an idea/au that they like on my blog and decide to expand on it without my consent or even crediting me for the original idea :/ To me that sucks because what I love about creating is the interactions with people, but because of the seldom posting except for full fics I don't get much 😂 And I know I could post snippet or hc, but the overenthusiasm bordering on no fandom manners that I've noticed stops me from doing that. Also, as a writer, it is quite discouraging to see people constantly reccing the same 5/6 fics/authors. Don't get me wrong, those are GREAT fics and authors, but babes, there are over 1,000 works in the clegan tag on ao3, why are we constantly reccing the same fics as in summer 2024. It feels like people only read the fics with the highest hits count, and from an outsider's pov, you'd think there are only 10 writers in the mota fandom 😭 I don't if it's bc the mota fandom is new so there are a lots of people from tiktok/that weren't on tumblr/in fandom before but it truly feels like fandom manners are getting lost, despite the plethora of incredible creators in the mota fandom. So there's this opposition between the enthusiasm over new ideas that seems to die down as soon as a story is posted, except if if it's one of the big fics from the summer. Imo the actual recognition of fics doesn't follow the enthusiasm of ideas and hcs, which is a bit of a shame I think, and to be quite honest, it made me lose my motivation to write for mota bc it just feels like I'll post a fic, it'll get traction for maybe a day or two, and then it'll be forgotten somewhere when people sort ao3 by number of hits or kudos

Anyway that was quite long I'm sorry, you don't have to answer this at all, I just needed to get this off my chest, but I really hope you know that even if it may not feel that way, you are an amazing writer, who clearly loves your stories, the characters and the words you use, and that is translated to the ao3 page <3 You truly are one of the most talented fic writers this fandom has, and I'd support you and your stories in whatever fandom you may be in ❤️

I assure you, anon, that you're not the only person to feel this way! I've had quite a few private conversations with friends and mutuals about really similar experiences and observations, and how disheartened and uncomfortable it's making us feel.

I guess people don't say anything because they don't want to be seen as sowing discord or being mean. I know that there are going to be people who might see this and interpret it as me "fuelling fandom discourse" or "fandom wanking" or "being a cunt" but actually I'm just talking about how we treat creators in online spaces, and the way that people en masse have apparently forgotten that creators in fandoms are people.

I had another anon tell me that someone laid claim to one of their ideas in the tags of their headcanon post, and I don't think you're the only person whose idea has been stolen and passed to another writer. I'm really sorry that's happened to you, and you're so right to not feel like posting anything because of it! This is truly the kind of stuff that makes people not want to participate or put themselves out there. Sometimes it's even writers doing the stealing, blatantly and without credit. It makes me think that a lot of people haven't shared creative spaces before and don't know how to be polite.

I also 100% agree about the fic rec thing. It's really disheartening to see the same fics passed around over and over again, not only from a writer perspective but a reader perspective. Something that seems to have emerged in fandom spaces over the years is deifying certain authors of popular fics - fic authors being treated like celebrities, the concept of a "must-read fic", even people only reading fics and authors that are already seen as popular/successful. I get that some people don't want to spend time scraping ao3 for niche fics, that's super understandable, but that's also why it would be nice to see a bit more adventure and variety in fic rec lists!

There is a low-key competitive feeling which a few people have mentioned to me - the feeling that there are people who want to "win" fandom or be the most popular/most reccd/most recognised writer, or whatever it may be. I just feel like anything that makes people feel like they're better than others is... come si dice... not good. I think it's a shitty way to treat people you're sharing a creative space with, to view them as competition and commodity.

Writing for consumption or writing for audience approval isn't something I've ever done, but I feel like it's cropping up more and more in fandom spaces too - not just MOTA, either. That's sort of a different discussion, but I do feel it's related to the copying/stealing in a way as well.

Now I also have to apologise for this getting too long! I'm glad you got it off your chest, and please feel free to come off anon at any time, because you've got an ally in me (and others too, I assure you). I think that everything you've said here merits consideration from everyone, at the very very least! It's in the interest of pursuing a more inclusive, supportive fandom space.

Thanks heaps as well for saying nice stuff about my writing! I only ever want to tell stories, and to give people something to enjoy that has clearly been created with care and consideration. I write to express things I want to express, and so it means a lot to me when other people see what I'm trying to say and pick up what I'm putting down. Truly madly deeply, my most boundless thanks!!! ♥️♥️♥️

#asks #anonymous #whoops this is long #dithering over whether to tag this mota

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indigosunsetao3 · 2 days ago

Text

Happy Valentine's Day, John Price

Valentine's Day Story Single Dad John Price x Reader Reader is female

Happy Valentine's Day!💙

Christmas | New Year's | Valentine's Day

Six weeks of dating John.

A whirlwind, really, considering it started because he needed help with his daughter to keep the Christmas magic alive. As a thank you, he brought you on probably the most over the top date of your life on New Year's. And now it's Valentine's Day, and you have no idea what to expect.

This time, though, John is away for work. He's been gone for about four days, and he doesn't expect to be back for another few. Yet even when he's away, he still makes time for you. Texting when he can, calling whenever it's safe. You still don't know exactly what he does for a living, though you know it's dangerous and top secret. If you didn't already know him from living across the hall all this time, the 'secret agent' act would have made you run the other way.

Slipping on your jacket, you scoop up your bag and head for the door. It's just another Friday for you, and while love is certainly in the air, your boss is still expecting you to keep chipping away at the project you've been doing. He doesn't much care that you've spent many of your nights up late talking to your boyfriend or that the office is going to be full of busybodies seeing who received flowers and gifts.

When you turn to lock your door, a flash of red catches your eye, and you look up. You thought you had pulled down the cute little Valentine's Day flyer your apartment put on all the doors the day before. But it's not a flyer. Tucked in your crooked welcome sign is a single rose, the stem in a small pipet to keep it watered.

Grinning, you tug it out of the O and flip over the small tag tied to it. All that's inscribed is From John in his chicken scratch writing. Turning your heel, expecting him to be standing there, you don't see anything. There's no indication he's home. Perhaps he asked one of the neighbors to deliver to you.

With a quick snap from your phone, you send John an image of the rose with a thank you. You know he's sleeping; wherever he is it's hours behind you, so you don't expect a response for a while. There isn't time to run the flower back inside and dig out a vase so you opt to take it with you. But perhaps it's a good thing you didn't waste your time doing that because when you get to your car, you find another rose tucked under the wipers. Same tag, same note.

Two flowers in hand, you make it to your desk, intending to go find a cup in the breakroom, when you see a vase with another rose. But this time, there is an envelope propped on the glass with your name scribbled on it. You deposit the two flowers in with the third and take a seat, tearing open the letter and doing your best not to grin too big.

Sorry I couldn't be there today. Just know I'm thinking of you, and I'll make it up to you when I get back. You have some very helpful coworkers and friends, but I won't give up my insiders in case I need their help again.

Enjoy your half day at work, dinner, and massage. Stop stressing about the project and take today to relax.

-John

You look up quickly to see if anyone is watching you and give themselves up as John's insider. But no one even glances your way. Going back to the letter, you read it over again, trying to decipher the meaning behind a massage and dinner. And especially the half day remark. You hadn't put in for time off.

As you wait for your computer to boot up, you send him another text message with your gifts, thanking him again. You don't want to send too many and wake him, but now you're dying to know just how he did all of this and what his letter means.

But the answers are waiting for you in your email. First is a response that your time off request, which you did not make, was approved for one that day. The second is the appointment confirmation for your massage at a luxury spa and a questionnaire about what type of mask you prefer. Then the third is the meal delivery itemization receipt sent from John, with the prices all redacted.

It's overwhelming, in a good way, as you sit back in your chair and absorb everything. You're dying to talk to John, but know that may not even happen today. There were some days you weren't even able to text at all, let alone talk on the phone.

Around eleven, another delivery driver walks in; the office door is just a revolving one with all the things being sent to your coworkers. It's a rather large box of cookies, and you watch from your cubicle to see where the receptionist is taking them, only for them to stop at your desk. Another rose is taped to the top of the box, and a sticker note states this for you to share with your coworkers as a thanks from John.

Before you even leave the cookies have been demolished. You're fairly certain you know at least two of John's helpers, but when you get to your car, you stop short. Rose number five is resting on your side mirror. Who had time to sneak out today when you were watching everyone so closely?

After doing the mental math, you text John again and know he should be awake by now. He doesn't answer, and you sigh a bit as you slip your phone into do not disturb and head in for your massage. Another rose is waiting for you in a vase in the room before the therapist walks in to start your session.

How many have you found? Six. How many are there? Isn't the standard bouquet a dozen? John! How many people have you roped into this? Enough Pretty sure leaving them in the postboxes is illegal. I'm up to 8 now between yours and mine. Only if you get caught

You laugh to yourself as you walk down the hallway to your apartment. Yet another rose is waiting on your door, and as you let yourself into John's place to drop his mail on the dining room table, you find another. He must have roped the landlord into this because, as far as you knew, the only other person with a key to John's place besides you and John was his ex-wife. And she certainly would not be leaving roses for her ex-husband's new girlfriend. At least you don't think.

Dinner is set to arrive in about two hours, so you take the time to continue to relax. A nice self pedicure, a bottle of wine, and a movie seem like the best options to pass the time. John has gone silent again but said he'd try to text you later that evening. Calling was not an option wherever he was.

Despite him not being there, it certainly felt like he was. He had gone through a lot of planning for this holiday, and it was sweet. Even outside of all the gifts, just the fact he took the time to do it makes your stomach flutter just thinking about it.

I've only found eleven. Are you sure? Positive. I'm looking at them in the vase. There were twelve. Maybe someone forgot? Doesn't matter, they're all wonderful and everything today was way more than I needed. Give me a few minutes and I'll find that missing rose. You don't have to! It's late, it's fine really.

You swirl your wine glass, staring at your phone and waiting for John to answer. Cookies, a half day at work, massage, dinner, and eleven roses were more than enough for you. It almost made you feel guilty for not getting him anything, aside from the letter you had written him and left with his mail. He had insisted on you not doing anything, he wouldn't be home anyway. That you would just go to dinner when he was back or anything else you wanted.

I found it. Who forgot? Nice try, I'm not giving up my helpers. Just sent them up to leave it at your door. That was quick. I didn't even hear them. Go get it and send me a picture of the finished bouquet before you go to bed. One second.

Uncurling from the couch, you stretch and head for the door, preparing to just crack it open enough to get the flower. It's late, and while you never felt unsafe at your apartment, you were still home alone. Flipping the locks, you crack open the door and peer out, anticipating an empty hallway, only to be startled by someone standing there.

"Oh, you scared the life-" you start, your brain not catching up from your scare to realize who has just scared you. You blink once, twice, then pull the door open wider.

John is standing there. Still in his military fatigues, duffle bag in one hand and your final rose in the other. He grins, looking down at you as you attempt to smooth out your silk pajama shirt. You had not expected any sort of company, let alone John.

"How did you?" You start as he holds out the last flower to you. His eyes are crinkled from his grin, but you can see exhaustion lining them. He had to have been traveling almost all day, maybe since the night before. And you knew whatever he was doing, sleep was far and in between.

"John, you should have told me you'd be home!" You half heartedly admonish as you step into his embrace to hug him.

"And ruin the surprise?" He asks, kissing the top of your head. "I know it's late, and you probably want to head to bed," he starts, but you grip him a little tighter as if afraid he'd step back. "If you knew where I have been today I don't think you'd want to touch me," he jokes as you lean back and cup his face.

"I don't care," you reply and lean up to kiss him properly. "You don't get to give me this wonderful day and then sneak home to surprise me just to run off again."

"I thought about showering first, but it's almost midnight," he pauses to glance at his watch; it's quarter til. "And then I would have truly missed Valentine's Day," he explains as you push back his hat to see him better.

"Well, we can't have that," you tease as you tug him into your apartment. "How fast can you shower?"

"Depends. Five minutes if I'm in a rush," John answers as he drops his duffle and quietly clicks your door shut behind him.

"Good thing we aren't in a rush because I need at least ten," you answer, feeling a warmth creeping up your neck at your boldness.

"In that case, let's take our time and make it twenty," he counters as he scoops you up easily and catches your lips with a heart stopping kiss.

"Happy Valentine's day," you barely whisper against his mouth as he winds his way back toward your bathroom while he carries you.

"Happy Valentine's day, sweetheart."

—————————-

Tag request: @misscherry-26

#call of duty #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cod #john price #captain john price #john price cod #single dad john price #single dad price #john price x reader #x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #valentine's day #valentine's day fic #call of duty valentine's day #valentine's day fluff #holiday fic #my fic

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thedarklingdude · 10 hours ago

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#YES YES YES THIS #i have had this as a headcanon floating around in my head for a long time #Like low key imagine Ford builds the house out of some enchanted wood for it's mild self-regenerating properties #but its actually mildly more alive than the average tree and has like a cat/dog level intellegence at maturity; but it takes a LONG time #to mature to that level (its a tree. they're slow. its how they go lol) #(and maybe its sustained by the emotions of creatures around it. birdsong and happy squirrel-chirps and gnome laughter. idk) #and at first Ford takes such good care of it. and it wakes into sentience slowly. it wakes to laughter and magic and equations and warmth #but then Ford starts inviting all these dark terrible things in. and it isnt being taken care of anymore. and the laughter dies #Building the portal in it's basement is like surgically inserting a parasite; a viscous cancer into her core that slowly eats at it #it tries to protect. (but it's so very young) and it's fight drains. and it shrinks into itself and fades #but then comes stanely after the fight. and like- Stanley's never kept a house. he doesn't know shit about it #But Stanley's kept his (ancient ass) Stanley-mobile in driveable condition for 60+ years #and he's got a brother he's trying to get back. and he's gotta live here. so by god he's gonna take care of the ol' thing #So he grabs (steals) some wood-putty for the cracks and some spare 2 by 4's to patch the rotten floorboards and gets to work #Superficial work at first. just enough to make the place livable; but then structural. foundational. #and the house- the Shack- she slowly wakes up. #(And isn't that nice. she's a “her” now. Because Stanley calls her “old girl” and “the shack” and- and he talks to her.) #sure. she wakes up to loneliness and quiet- but she wakes up to laughter too as the tourists come in. #To creativity. to /care/ and /devotion/ And slowly that tumor in her belly fades to a dull ache #and she grows proud. she is a museum. she is something that brings awe and joy in the daytime. #and at night she is a home and a shelter and a man's last hope.... #ugh i need to write this fic #anyway #Sentient Shack Au

tags from @coffee-shop-gay get peer reviewed, also sobbing

Sentient Mystery Shack, who is really biased towards Stan, so when Ford tells Stan he has to give it back after the summer it’s on sight.

Ford keeps tripping over nothing, nothing is where it's supposed to be and somehow he keeps running into closets when he tries to go outside.

But the worst part, the WORST part is that Ford's lightbulb just won't. Work. No matter what he does it keeps flickering and exploding.

Ford is spiraling.

There is no reason why it shoudln’t work. All his trial runs work perfectly. He’s already checked the Shacks wiring three times and relearned this dimensions science from the ground up.

Nothing works.

The Rift? Bill? The impending apocalypse? Eating? Sleep? Who cares about that.

WHY. WONT. THE. LIGHTBULB. WORK???

It doesn’t help that Stan keeps laughing at him.

“Then you do it!” Ford eventually snaps at Stan.

Stan shrugs and with a little song under his breath screws his own lightbulb in. It works perfectly.

Stanford screams.

#if you write this fic I wanna read it 👀

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musette22 · 3 days ago

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Hello Minnie, how are you this week? Have you seen the new cap movie yet? I really enjoyed it. I hope Mackie receives the credit he deserves. I won’t talk more about it, no spoilers welcome. So, my question: do you have recommendations for WW2 stucky? Fics of them fighting Hydra together, hanging out with the Howling Commandos and going sledding with the shield. I’m open to everything: fluff, smut, angst… I have probably already read all the WW2 stucky fics one can recommend. (I’m in that tag way too often.) But I want to know what your favourite(s) is (/are)? Thank you very much and enjoy your day!

Hiii, darling! I'm doing well overall, thank you! I had a busy work week, but also managed to do som writing, and now I've got a fun, friend-filled weekend ahead so yeah, not bad 🥰 I hope you're doing well too! Ahh no, I haven't seen the new Cap movie and I will not be seeing it, since I stopped watching Marvel completely after Endgame, no exceptions. I'm glad you enjoyed it, though! I'm sure Mackie is wonderful in it <3

As for your question about wartime Stucky fics - I totally hear you, I love those so much as well!! I do have a few favourites, but I'm also very sure that the ones below are just the tip of the iceberg, and that I'm forgetting a ton of amazing fics that I've read but forgottn to bookmark... So if anyone else wants to add their favourites, please feel free to do so! (The first one if of course only partially during wartime, but I couldn't not mention it on this list):

Not Easily Conquered by dropdeaddream, WhatAreFears

The Size of Perfection by Phoenike

honey don't feed it, it will come back by thedoubteriswise

You'd Be So Nice To Come Home To by EmilianaDarling

Everybody Needs Practice by TeamDamon

the long walk home by Deisderium

Change is for the Brave by Chiyume

won't you get me (right where the hurt is) by notcaycepollard

#also I wanted to answer a couple more asks but I have to leave soon!#but I'll get to them tomorrow hopefully <3 #stucky #fic recs #minnie answers

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stronginawayjbb · 22 hours ago

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Hold My Hand - J.B.

hi hello I have another entry for @elixirfromthestars 's cinema! this fic IS CA: BNW spoiler free, and I would appreciate for there to be no spoilers since I haven't gotten a chance to see it yet! thank you so much <3

rating: 18+

pairing: Congressman!Bucky x f!reader

tags/warnings: hurt/comfort, angst. mentions of blood/violence/hospitals, happy ending because I can't write sad shit

prompts: pretzel, Hold My Hand by Lady Gaga

word count: 3.8k (not sorry)

Pull me close, wrap me in your aching arms. I see that you're hurtin', why'd you take so long to tell me you need me? I see that you're bleeding, you don't need to show me again. But if you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you. I won't let go 'til the end.

When you got the news that there was a HYDRA attack happening in the Capitol building, you didn’t think. You took off from the Manuscript Reading Room in the Library of Congress, only one thing on your mind - or one person, rather.

You ran as fast as your heels would carry you, getting across the street and to the steps of the building before you were stopped by security. You flashed both your federal ID and Avengers clearance card, which granted you access. You weren’t necessarily an Avenger, but you did work on their research and development team. And you were dating one. In order for you to stay quiet, you took your heels off, not wanting to alert anyone of your presence. Dating a super soldier, he’d taught you enough to keep your wits about you and defend yourself if he couldn’t be there to protect you. You tiptoed around, making your way to a stairwell so you could get to Bucky’s office. You smelled smoke as you got closer, and when you opened the door to the second floor, it was hazy. You knew you should turn back, but something in you said Bucky needed you.

So you kept going. The destruction got worse as you got closer to his office, and when you reached it, the door had been blown off. You didn’t see him immediately, so you assessed for any threat of danger, and seeing no one around, you entered carefully.

“Bucky?” you called out carefully. You heard a groan behind his desk, so you rushed over. You knelt down, your knees landing in a liquid - one you quickly realized was blood. His blood. “Bucky,” you gasped, trying to find the source of his bleeding. Even with his healing abilities, he was still losing too much too quickly. “What happened? Where are you hurt? Talk to me, baby,” you said with urgency, gently pulling him out from under his desk. He yelped in pain, and you felt terrible, but you had to help. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, his throat already dry and eyes looking glassy.

Once he was out from under his desk, you found the source of his injury: a deep stab wound in his femoral artery. Luckily, there was enough space for you to be able to put a tourniquet on him. You went to work quickly, taking his belt out of his pants and tightening it down to try and stop the bleeding. Unbuttoning his collared shirt, you tore a part of his t-shirt he wore underneath to pack in the wound. Your hands were shaking, eyes clouded with tears as you did your best to stuff strips into the gash.

Weakly, he grabs your bloody hand, trying to stop your shaking. “Cupcake,” he breathes out. You look at him, lacing your fingers together. “I’m here, baby,” you promise him, voice cracking with your tears. He shakes his head, a small smile on his tired face. “I love you,” he says, and it looks like it takes all his strength. “I’m always going to love you.” “No,” you sob, “No, stop. Stop talking like that. You’re going to be fine.”

You didn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you didn’t need to. You needed him to believe them. Because he had to be. This couldn’t be the way he goes out. You’d been with Bucky for two years, and loved him more than anything in the world. The thought of losing him felt like your soul was being ripped out of your chest. You leaned down, taking your free hand and pushing some of his hair out of his face. It smeared a bit of blood across his forehead, but you’d clean it up later. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, cradling his face in your hand. “Keep your eyes open, baby. Stay awake for me, okay? Help is coming. You’re gonna be fine,” you assured, whispering sweet nothings to him like they were going to keep him alive. You glanced down at his leg, and it seemed as though the bleeding was slowing down, but you didn’t know when help was going to arrive.

Bucky’s breathing was shallow, every breath labored, but he was doing it. After another moment, Joaquin comes in, looking around for Bucky. You perk your head up from behind the desk, waving him over. “Over here,” you alert him, tears in your eyes. “Is he hurt?” Joaquin asks, eyebrows furrowed as he assesses Bucky. You nod. “Stab wound in his thigh. I put a tourniquet on it and packed it, just like he showed me,” you told him. Bucky was struggling to stay awake, but he was trying - fighting.

Joaquin gives you a small smile despite the situation. “You probably saved his life,” he tells you, and while you know he’s right, Bucky is barely clinging to life. “Fix him,” you sob, letting Joaquin take over. He does, telling someone on his comms that they need a stretcher and medical assistance. The next few minutes were the longest of your life, trying to keep Bucky awake before help came. When it did, they had all kinds of medicines at the ready, pushing you out of the way to get Bucky stable. You found yourself standing next to Joaquin, and with one look at you, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and let you sob into his chest. Bucky’s blood was dry on your hands, evidence that you did everything you could to save him, and you still weren’t sure it was enough. “We’re gonna follow him to the hospital, okay?” Joaquin tells you, feeling you silently nod against him. He leads you out of the office, glancing you over. “Hey, where’s your shoes?” he asks softly, and you nod towards the desk. You’d dropped them next to you before tending to Bucky. He goes to quickly retrieve your heels, helping you into them before getting you downstairs and out of the building. You catch a glimpse of Sam, who has a grim look on his face, but nods, trying to offer you some silent reassurance. You quietly follow Joaquin to Happy’s waiting car, ready to take you to the hospital.

The car ride to MedStar Washington was silent. Happy didn’t try to engage in conversation, and you were grateful. Once at the hospital, he dropped you off at the emergency room doors, and told you to call him when you were ready to come home or if you needed anything. You nodded, giving him a grateful smile and a small “thank you” before walking into the building. Your pantyhose were still bloodstained at the knees, but you didn’t care. You went through the procedures of checking in as a visitor, brokenly asking where James Barnes was. “He’s in the trauma center, in room 4,” the receptionist tells you with a sad smile. You nod and begin making your way towards the trauma center, visitor sticker displayed on your grey blazer. You were doing research in the Library of Congress today, so you wore a grey skirt suit with a royal blue blouse, and you were laughing because your suit unintentionally matched Bucky’s today. You giggled and took selfies with him this morning, holding hands as he walked you to work. That felt like a lifetime ago.

Slowly, you trekked to his room, steeling yourself for whatever condition he was in. Once you made it to the trauma center, you stopped at the nurse’s station. “Hi,” you greeted, voice strained. “I’m (y/n) (y/l/n), James Barnes’ girlfriend and emergency contact. How’s he doing?” You knew he’d signed the forms to have medical information released to you, which they had on file, so they should be able to give you updates. The nurse pulls up his chart, careful to keep a poker face before looking up from his computer. “He’s getting a second pint of blood. After he’s stable, he’ll need to go in for surgery to repair the artery, but we were able to get the bleeding stopped for now. Whoever packed the wound and put the belt on him as a tourniquet saved his life,” he tells you. He sees the blood on you, and knows it was likely you who did it, so he’s trying to offer some reassurance. “Is he going to be okay?” you ask quietly.

The nurse gives you a faint smile as he nods. “He’s going to be fine.”

You take a deep breath and head to Bucky’s room. You step inside carefully, not wanting to disturb him. You check his vitals, and he’s holding steady. His blood pressure is a little low, but everything else looks good. You quietly pull up a chair on his left side and take his metal hand in yours. You feel a slight squeeze from him, and it makes you smile. His second blood transfusion was almost done, and you knew he’d probably be heading in for surgery soon. “Hey, cupcake,” he rasps out, opening his eyes to look at you. He looked so frail in a hospital gown, despite his bulkiness. You carefully reach out and tuck some of his chestnut hair behind his ear. You loved when his hair was long like this. “Hi, baby,” you greet, your emotions threatening to spill over again. He nuzzles into the palm of your hand, the scruff on his cheeks and chin rough against your skin. “They said you saved me,” he states, looking into your eyes. You shrug and shake your head, dismissing him.

“I had to. I couldn’t let you go just yet. I won’t let go till the end, and this couldn’t be how our story ended.” The words tumble out of your mouth as you try to envision a world without Bucky. That wasn’t a world you wanted to live in. The corner of his mouth quirks into his signature smirk, and that alone makes your heart flutter. You grip his hand just a little tighter. “What happened, love?” He rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed with the organization that’s been after him for 80 years. “HYDRA found out about our mission to double cross them, found out I was undercover in Congress to try and expose them once and for all. Tried to take me out with a pocket knife. Dumbasses.”

The fact that he was joking around and being sassy meant he was feeling a little better, which made her smile and chuckle a little. “Sorry the mission ended like this,” you apologize, looking at him with some sympathy. He shakes his head. “Not your fault, cupcake. I don’t know what tricks you pulled to get into the Capitol, but do not do that shit ever again, understand?” He looks at you, his voice slightly stern, and that makes you giggle.

“No way. I’m coming after you every time. And I’m glad I did,” you say, staring him down. His cheeks flush lightly. “You don’t need to save me. That’s my job.”

Your thumb strokes across his metal knuckles, reassuring him gently. “And you are my hero, Bucky. Always have been, always will be. But you don’t have to wait to tell me you need me. I can see when you’re bleeding, literally and figuratively.” He swallows hard at that, nodding. The one person he thought he could lean on was now stuck in the past, and while he had a few people he trusted in the present, namely Sam and Rhodey, he still got worried that he couldn’t always share his true emotions. With you, he knew he was safe, but he still had a deep seeded need to protect you. You were the one modern thing he loved. Your moment was interrupted by the trauma doctor and a cardiologist entering his room. You both looked up at the doctors, and you introduced yourself and shook their hands. They explained that since Bucky had been stable for the better part of an hour, they needed to get in and repair his artery before the temporary cauterization they put on him stopped working. It was enough to get him stable, but it wasn’t the permanent fix. They explained an operating room was open, so they were going to prep him for surgery. They said it shouldn’t take long, an hour or two at most. You soaked in the information, looking over at Bucky. He seemed a little nervous, and you knew why. You looked at the doctors. “Can you give us a minute before you take him, please?” you ask politely. They look at each other and the trauma doctor checks his watch. “We can give you two minutes, but we have to go after that. It is an emergency, and the cauterization won’t last,” he explains. You nod, understanding, grateful for the two minutes. They walk out, leaving you and Bucky alone. As soon as they’re out of the room, Bucky’s heart rate picks up. He looks at you with genuine fear in his eyes. “Listen to me, Bucky. It’s going to be okay. You’re gonna be fine, and you’re gonna wake up the same person you are now, okay? I won’t let them hurt you,” you swear to him, resolve and determination lacing your tone.

“You promise?” he asks, still worried, but trusting you. You nod, your eyes never leaving his. “I promise, lovebug.”

He takes a deep breath, not feeling great but knowing you’re telling the truth. “Gimme a kiss,” he requests, and you smile, happily obliging him. “I love you, cupcake,” he grins, squeezing your hand with his metal one. “I love you, sweet pea,” you tell him, meaning it with your whole chest. Just then, the doctors come back in, telling you and Bucky it was time for surgery. You stand up from the chair beside his bed, and let the nurses get his bed prepped to roll him out. Before he leaves, you promise him that you’ll be right here when he comes back, and with that, he and his team are leaving for surgery.

An hour later, the cardiologist comes in to his room to find you with a cup of coffee. You look up, your heart pounding in your chest. By the relaxed smile on her face, you were hopeful. “He did great. They’re closing him up now and once he wakes up from anesthesia, he’ll be brought back here. We’ll keep him overnight to monitor him, but he’ll be discharged tomorrow morning. The sofa in here turns into a bed, and you’re welcome to stay with him,” she explains, clearly pleased with the results of the surgery. “He needs one more pint of blood, and some more fluids, but with his advanced healing, he’ll be fine in a few days. He just needs to take it easy while he heals. He lost about half of his blood, which any normal human would have died from. He got really lucky. He’s lucky to have you, Ms. (y/l/n). He wouldn’t stop talking about you before we put him under.”

The weight of everything comes crashing down on you, and tears well up in your eyes as you thank her. Bucky was going to be okay, and you were so grateful. The cardiologist steps out of the room, and you sit back in your chair, waiting for Bucky to come back. In the meantime, you text Happy, asking him to bring you an overnight bag and to retrieve your purse from the cloak room of the reading room you were in before this all went down. Your phone stayed in the inner pocket of your suit jacket, but your wallet and purse was still with your things in the cloak room. He texts back, affirming he would bring you everything.

A half hour later, Bucky was back in the room, still dozing as the anesthesia wore off. While he was asleep, Happy dropped off your bag, so you went to the attached bathroom in his room to change. While you were in there, he woke up, calling out a gruff “Cupcake?”

Immediately, you stepped out, only half dressed. You had your yoga pants and a sports bra on, and when you came into his view, he grinned. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes…”

You rolled your eyes and came over to his side, lips brushing against his forehead. “How are you feeling, honey?” you ask, looking him over. He seemed to be doing okay. He had some color back in his face, not as pale as you saw him earlier. “Good. Sore. Better now that you’re here,” he answers, leaning back into his pillows. You adjust the one under his shoulders, leaning him back a little to make sure he was comfortable. “I’m gonna finish getting changed and I promise I’ll be right back, okay?” you tell him, kissing his forehead one more time before running back to the bathroom. You slipped on your t-shirt, an old AC/DC one, and quickly rejoined him at his bedside. You pulled up a chair again and dutifully enveloped his metal hand in both of yours. It held onto the slight chill of the operating room, so you did your best to warm it up. “They told me they’re keeping you overnight to monitor you, but I can stay, too. Happy brought me a bag. He brought you a change of clothes, too. We can go home in the morning,” you say softly. You see him nod, understanding why they want to keep him. “They said you lost half your blood…” you trail off, wondering if he knew.

You see his chest seize up for a split second, a sign that he knew and didn’t want to tell you. He sighs, and doesn’t dare look into your eyes. “I didn’t think I was gonna make it… When you came into my office, I--” he pauses for a moment, trying not to get choked up, “I thought my world was ending, and all I wanted was to be next to you.”

“Bucky,” you whisper, holding his hand tighter. “Did the doc tell you I wouldn’t shut up about you?” he asks, trying to lighten the mood a little. You nod. “She did.”

“Did she say what, exactly, I said?” he asks, eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

“No, lovebug, she didn’t,” you affirm. You looked at him with the same curiosity, wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean. “Why?” you ask.

He shrugs, his bottom lip poking out. “No reason, I just may have spilled my guts and was trying to figure out if she ruined anything.”

Now you were definitely confused. “Ruin what?” you pushed, trying to make sure everything was okay between the two of you. Noticing that you were starting to get upset, Bucky started rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of your hand.

“It’s all good, cupcake, I promise. I just have a… surprise planned soon, for our anniversary, and wanted to make sure she didn’t tell you, that’s all,” he explains, hoping it was enough to calm your nerves. It was. Relief crosses your face as you tuck some hair behind his ear again, just like you did earlier.

“Okay, baby. I trust you,” you assure, a soft smile on your face as you stroke his hair. That lulls him back to sleep, and you stay like that for an hour or so until a nurse comes in to start his next bag of fluids and blood transfusion. They’re giving him some preventative antibiotics, too, so he didn’t get an infection.

The nurse wakes him up to check his vitals and get his pain level, and while he tries to hide it, he reluctantly admits it’s a 6. So he gets some extra pain meds, and you help him order a late dinner, ordering a meal for yourself as well.

After dinner, he’s tired but restless. You make up the pull out bed with sheets his nurse provided, and an extra pillow. You had your pajamas on, a tank top and shorts set, and the sight made him feel like you two were back home. But to him, home was wherever you were, so he supposed that as long as you were here, he could handle it.

“Come get in bed with me,” he finally says, breaking the comfortable silence in the room. He scoots over a little, making room for you. You get in on his left side, not wanting to disturb his arm with two IVs in, or his injured thigh. You lay on your side, your arm draped over his soft middle. Since he’s been on an undercover mission and not training as hard, he’s gotten a little softer, and you adored it. Your hand splayed protectively over his stomach, and he covered yours with his flesh one.

Your exhaustion was just about ready to take over, and he could feel your body getting heavier against his as you relaxed. Your eyes fluttered shut, relishing in the feeling of laying next to the love of your life. Just as you were about to drift off, his warm lips brush against the top of your head. “I love you, cupcake,” he whispers, metal arm squeezing you tighter against him.

“I love you,” you whisper back, already half asleep. He finally lets you drift off, thanking his lucky stars for not only the blessing that is you, but for you saving him. Your third anniversary was in three weeks, and he had a four word question he couldn’t wait to ask you. Up until now, he was scared shitless about it, but now, as you lay in his arms, protecting him the best way you knew how, he realized that the butterflies in his stomach weren’t fear, but excitement. The two emotions had been conflated in his head for so long that he wasn’t sure he could name the difference. He can now.

Bucky smiles as he falls asleep, letting the pain medicine take over his aching body. The future was bright for the two of you since he survived today, and he knew he could do anything as long as you held his hand.

So cry tonight, but don’t you let go of my hand. You can cry every last tear. I won’t leave till I understand. Promise me, just hold my hand.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #congressman!bucky #elixirscinema #beefy bucky #bucky x y/n #marvel fanfiction #marvel #submission #avengers #no BNW spoilers

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defututus · 12 hours ago

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Even When I’m Not With You | Chapter Three

Sprite & Confessions

masterlist

Summary: you and Eddie are getting closer and it has become impossible to ignore your feelings for each other.

content warnings: mentions of a lack of romantic experience but I swear this chapter is all fluff, Eddie being gross for a minute

word count: ~4.8k

author's note: this chapter is my favorite and I hope you all see why <3 also, I had someone ask for a taglist so if anyone else wants to be added please let me know!

As always, thank you to my favorite people @corroded-hellfire and @munson-blurbs for helping me when I need advice. Also, I don’t know if they remember helping me with this, but I want to thank @vintagehellfire for letting me pick their brain and suggesting things while I writing about Eddie’s… incident. I cackled when she suggested some of the dialogue.

reposting because I forgot to tag it properly!

divider by @saradika-graphics

You and Eddie quickly became thick as thieves. The two of you were either hanging out together or talking over facetime or texting. There were always updates on how your day was going, memes being sent, random thoughts that popped into your head. You couldn’t go an hour without speaking to one another with the exception of sleeping or you being in class, in which Eddie would just message hou until class was over and you’d catch up on everything he sent you. You eventually learned everything about him - about his uncle and his band, Corroded Coffin. You learned he was a music production major with the hopes that his band would make it big but kept a job at the local mechanic for the time being and in case plan A doesn’t work out.

The two of you would usually have breakfast together, schedules permitting, and then walk to your respective classes together. You were always amazed at how much Eddie was able to eat every morning, especially when you ate dinner with him the night before and remembered how much he ate then. He also tried a new combination of food every morning - some of these made sense, like Cocoa Puffs in chocolate milk, while you vividly remember him trying Fruity Pebbles in orange juice and how he got a weird look from the dining hall staff when they saw him happily walking to his seat with that in his bowl. It was during these meals together that you two realized how much you both had in common - a love for horror movies, rock and metal music, and obviously, Dungeons and Dragons. Eddie swore you two were destined to become friends and he wished he had met you sooner.

You both had planned to sit together after your classes had finished and get some work done before the end of the week. Eddie specifically said he needed you to hold him accountable and make sure he didn’t get distracted and click off his schoolwork like he always ends up doing. He wasn’t exactly lying when he made that request. Eddie always struggled to keep his focus on homework, but he really wanted an excuse to spend more time with you.

You meet up with him after class in the campus brightly-lit convenience store to grab some snacks. You go for a small cup of cheez-its and an iced tea, while he immediately grabs a large bag of pretzels and two sprites. Your mind immediately goes back to earlier in the day during breakfast where you saw him eat two Belgian waffles, scrambled eggs, and Cocoa Puffs. You’re looking at him in surprise and Eddie can see it in your eyes, because he looks at you and holds his family size bag of pretzels close to his chest, defending himself by saying, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m a growing boy, I need food!”

You snort and begin weaving between the aisles of chips and candy to the checkout counter, greeting the cashier who you have grown fond of over the past three years and swipe your food card to pay for your items. Eddie isn’t too far behind, grabbing a pack of gum before he pays for his own food. You’re waiting for him outside the store as you put your snacks inside your backpack. Once they’re safely stored inside, you look through the front windows and admire Eddie from afar as he chats up the cashier. She’s laughing with him and he has this infectious smile that spreads even to you. You’re admiring his dimples and the way his nose scrunches up when he laughs. He’s wearing a red flannel on top of a black Pantera shirt, his hands in his pockets and watching as the cashier counts out his change. Maybe he could sense you were watching him, or maybe he just happened to look over at you, but you two locked eyes so he gave you a toothy smile and stuck his tongue out. You giggled, and although he couldn’t really hear it through the glass, he still felt the same amount of joy that he felt every time he heard you laugh. Eddie steps outside a minute later and the two of you walk up the hill, shoving your hands in your hoodie and shivering when the wind begins to blow.

It felt as if fall had swept over the campus seemingly overnight, because all of a sudden the grounds were awash with hues of orange and yellow. The tree-lined walkways were littered with leaf piles and smelled of autumn. As the seasons began to change, the student body began to pile on layers of clothing to keep the chills away as the winds kicked up. It was one of the cruel facts about going to school in a mountainous area - it was going to get cold. However, the drop in temperature did not keep students from taking advantage of all the outdoor seating the school had to offer. You always maintained that you’d stop sitting outside when it dipped below 40 degrees and that still hadn’t happened yet, which is why you still found yourself sitting at one of the picnic tables outside the school’s student center across from Eddie.

You two choose a table near the front of the building with a view of the school quad. The winds have died down for the time being so you could safely unload your backpack without worrying about any papers flying around. The sun was shining towards the quad so you two sat on the same side of the table with the warm rays hitting your backs. You’re laying out everything you need to get your work done, a few articles to outline for class next week, your copy of The Odyssey to continue translating, and your notebook. Everything was color coded, so you took out the blue highlighter and the blue post-it notes that went along with them. All Eddie takes out is his laptop with his music program already loaded up, most likely left there from class earlier in the day, and his pretzels laid open right next to the laptop between the two of you. The cheez-its you bought came out a few minutes later once you heard Eddie quietly chewing and remembered your own food. Eventually, you and Eddie fall into a quiet, comfortable routine. You’re focusing on your work and he’s focusing on his. There are moments of brief conversation, like when you ask him if your translation of a sentence sounds clunky or not, or if he’s stuck on how a certain part of a song should sound, but otherwise it’s complete silence between you two.

At some point in your work you begin eyeing his pretzels. You hadn’t finished your cheez-its yet, still having around half of the small container left to eat, but you just found yourself craving the snack your friend had purchased. He bought a large bag and didn’t make much of a dent in it yet, so it wouldn’t hurt to just take a few pieces.

You glance over at Eddie, the muffled sounds of guitar chords from his music program blaring into his ears as he seems completely focused on his work. Part of you was surprised that he hadn’t complained about any hearing loss based on how loud he always kept things. He wouldn’t care if you took some, right?

You turn the bag over to you and take a few pretzels out of the bag, popping them in your mouth and resuming your own work. These clauses aren’t going to translate themselves, and you were getting to your favorite part of the story so you were excited to go over it again.

Eddie sees your movement out of the corner of his eye and does indeed notice you taking some of his food, not that he minds, of course. He’d give you the entire bag if you asked him. However, he did like being a pain in the ass to you sometimes, so he holds out an expectant hand between the two of you. It takes you a moment to notice it, and you only do when he begins wiggling his fingers in waiting and you see him looking right at you. He arches a brow at you and waits for you to pay up for the stolen salty snacks.

You crack a smile at him, which he returns, and then place a few cheez-its in his hand. They were roughly the same amount of pretzels that you took from him, you weren’t sure. He closes his hand once the crackers are in his hand and tosses them all into his mouth. His cheeks are puffed up like a chipmunk and you’re sure he must be getting crumbs over his laptop but doesn’t seem to care. His face is almost comical and it makes you laugh. Unbeknownst to you, he’s only doing this to get that exact reaction out of you. Your laughter gets him higher than even the best weed in the world. He wishes he could record it and listen to it all day long. Maybe one day he’ll ask if he can do that, but at this moment he’ll take what he can get.

Your laughter dies down and you’re trying to get back to work, which Eddie just could not accept, so he develops a plan. He initially wanted to buy Mountain Dew when he went into the convenience store, but they were unfortunately out so he went for Sprite instead. He looks over to you, looking adorable as always, especially when you’re deep in focus. Your brows are furrowed as you read a sentence out under your breath and tap your pen against the paper in frustration.

Eddie nudges you to get your attention and motions to one of the bottles of sprite that he’s pulling out of his bag. You watch him in confusion and curiosity as he unscrews the cap and begins to chug it. You watch his adam's apple bob as he’s drinking it, momentarily pausing to grimace and choke out, “This was a horrible idea,” before resuming the challenge he had set out for himself. You’re a little worried he might throw up from this but at the same time you’re curious to see if he can actually do it. It’s still not looking good for him though, judging by the way his face is contorting in pain and his free hand is now gripping his stomach.

Miraculously, he manages to down the entire bottle without puking. Eddie throws the bottle down on the ground and the hand once holding the sprite is now gripping the table. His head is hung low and he’s panting heavily. You’re leaning in to get a better look at him and place a cautious hand on his back.

He’s silent and keeps his head hung low. You scoot closer to him, your thighs now touching his and ask, “Ed, you okay?” and he shakes his head. His eyes are shut, he looks like he’s holding something back. You’re about to ask him if he needs anything - tums, water, hell maybe even an ambulance - before he speaks up.

“Sweetheart, I think I’m dying. There’s no saving me now.”

You’re glad he’s at least feeling well enough to make a joke - you think he’s joking. Second later, his eyes open wide in fear. He lets go of the table and is now fully bent over in pain. It’s a little hard to hear, but you swear you hear him say to himself, “This was the worst decision I’ve made in my entire life.”

Your concern for him intensifies and you begin to rub his back, trying to think of something, anything to help relieve the immense discomfort he’s feeling. He’s also becoming very quiet, and you’ve never known him to be a quiet person. He’s always making some noise, either tapping his pen against something or humming a tune under his breath. His shoes are always loud so everyone can hear him walking into a room. You’re sure he also snores when he sleeps, because you cannot imagine him just sleeping peacefully at night.

Finally, Eddie makes a noise.

The burp that comes out of Eddie doesn’t sound real. It’s akin to something you’d hear in a kids show because of how loud and exaggerated it sounded. There are a few people sitting at the next table who hear Eddie belch and look over at you two, and one of them even looks a little impressed. Eddie is once again quiet, but he looks less pained and more embarrassed by what just occurred. Your hand stops rubbing circles into his back and he’s relieved you haven’t removed it yet - it’s probably the only thing keeping him from running away. He soon looks up at you and plainly says, “I, uh, I thought I was gonna die.”

You nod and pat his back, but your hand still doesn’t move away from him. He’s honestly looking a little embarrassed and you didn’t even know he could get like that. In all the time you’ve known Eddie, you’ve always known him to be loud and proud, so this is something entirely new. You try to lighten the mood by saying, “I wouldn’t let you go that easily. You’re one of my best friends now so you’re stuck with me forever.” He smiles at that, and you can tell he’s starting to feel better by the small chuckle he let out. He’s looking down at his hands and playing with his rings again.

Eddie noticed how your hand never left his back and he could feel the warmth of it through his layers. He lifts his head slightly and you see him looking at you through his bangs. In that moment, you wish you could always look at him like this, just inches away from each other and no other friends to interrupt the moment. Every time you two were alone together every second felt so intimate. The bleary-eyed breakfasts, late night facetime calls where you two discussed your hopes and dreams, the times you would get high in his car and share your favorite songs with each other. Every moment was so cherished and you could only imagine the possibilities if things advanced between you two, if you became something more. More late night talks, he might put an arm around you during your movie nights, maybe you could go on some impromptu dates once midterms were over. They were nice ideas and all, but you had to shut them down before you began daydreaming about the man who sat beside you and almost died from drinking too much Sprite.

Instead of letting yourself get lost in your fantasies you turn your focus back to making Eddie smile since he always did the same for you. The eye contact was back but he had a smile that took your breath away every time. You (begrudgingly) take your hand off his back and nudge his shoulder with yours. “Nah, I knew you’d make it through that… so are you gonna chug that second bottle?” Eddie scoffs at the idea and playfully slaps your arm, finally laughing again and shaking his head.

“You’re insane if you think I’m EVER doing that shit again!” You watch as he gets up to jog over to the recycling bin and toss his empty Sprite bottle inside. Eddie turns around to see you pouting and giving him your best puppy dog eyes. He would definitely do it again since it made you happy, but he didn’t want you to see him actually throw up that time. “That look is NOT going to work on me, sweetheart. Don’t pull that shit on me!”

You try your best to ignore the comment and instead look down at your incomplete translation, deciding it best to focus on your studies and not the possible feelings he could have for you. Reluctantly, you take your hand off his back and say, “Okay! Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

Eddie nods his head and you go back to your schoolwork, but Eddie instead minimizes his music program and begins looking things up online. You don’t notice for a couple minutes until you look over at him to sneak another peek at his face and see that he’s scrolling through Netflix. You tap your pen against the laptop screen and say, “Hey. That’s not homework, close that.”

Eddie bats your hand away and clicks to Prime Video and opens the horror category up again. You speak up again, “You know, if you’re planning to write a song based on a horror movie there’s another band that already beat you to that. It might become their whole thing in the future.”

He’s ignoring you now and opens up a few more tabs with movies. You’re now as distracted as he is, leaning in to point out movies you liked or movies you wanted to see. Eddie stops looking at the screen and is now looking at your face, completely mesmerized by your beauty. He can’t believe you’d ever want to hang out with a guy like him.

“Hey, uh–“, Eddie scratches at the back of his head as he tries to figure out how to ask this without stumbling over his words and making himself look like an idiot in front of you “– we should do a movie night tonight, we haven’t had one in like two weeks. Are you free?”

You hesitate for a moment, mentally going over your schedule for the night. This was your only homework that had to be finished by tonight and the rest of your assignments can be finished tomorrow. Even if they were all due tomorrow, you’d much rather spend time with Eddie watching a movie together. The fits of laughter when someone dies, ordering pizza and arguing which snacks to eat after dinner, curling up under the blankets with your knees grazing each other. Lingering glances when your hands touch and the blush that always appears on Eddie’s cheeks when you two accidentally lock eyes. Those nights you let your mind wander, and wonder if maybe you could have a future with Eddie. Maybe you two could be more than friends. Perhaps you could have more than momentarily looks and brief touches. For now, you’ll take every moment you can get with him.

You respond to him with a smile, saying, “For you? I’m always free.”

Eddie is continuing to look nervous, his hands moving from his laptop to under the table and fiddling with the rings on his hands. He’s biting at his lip and going over his next words in his head, but sets them aside for later. He shifts his attention back to the tabs he had pulled up previously, clicking between a few possible choices.

“Ok, cool. So we have a few options… uh, there’s A Quiet Place, I think you said you haven’t watched that yet. We still haven’t finished our Saw marathon, so maybe we could do that? Or,”” Eddie clicks over to one last tab, the preview picture showing a silhouette of a giant deer standing in front of a burning house with what looked like hands hanging from its face, “we could watch The Ritual. This one looks amazing.”

You take his laptop and tilt it towards you and read through the summary given by the streaming service and scroll down to the reviews - they’re all positive and talk about how unnerving the movie is. The eerie imagery combined with the whole movie being set in the woods already had your skin crawling. You don’t notice yourself doing it, but you start smiling as you read each review talking about how this movie gave people nightmares and how they could never look at a forest the same again. Once you hit the bottom of the page, you turn the laptop back to Eddie and confidently say, “Eddie, we have to watch that.”

He’s nodding and closes his laptop for now before fully turning to you. There’s a constant hum of students in the walkways in front of you as they’re all let out of class, and Eddie finds it a little calming as he tries to figure out what to say. He hesitates a little before biting the bullet.

“How would you feel about making it a date?”

You blink a few times as you try to process what he just asked you. Maybe your parents were right and you really were damaging your hearing by listening to your music too loud because there’s no way you just heard Eddie Munson ask you out. There are so many things you want to ask. Why? Are you sick? Is this a joke? Please don’t let it be a joke.

All you can muster is a confused, “What?” before Eddie has to begin explaining himself.

“I’ve wanted to ask you out ever since I’ve met you, but I’ve been scared that you might not feel the same way and I might ruin our friendship,” Eddie takes your hand in his and then takes the other which was currently sitting on your lap. There’s a constant hum around you two as people are leaving their classes and making their ways to their destinations, whether it be their next class, the commuter lounge, or home for the day. You can barely hear it over the sound of your heart beat. Eddie continues on, “Steve told me the other day that he was sick of watching me stare at you like a lovesick puppy and said he was pretty sure you liked me back, so I figured I might as well try…”

You look down at his hands and a drop of water falls down onto one of them. Is it raining? No, you’re crying. Hurriedly, you reach to wipe the tear away hoping Eddie doesn’t notice but how could he not when he’s been watching you this entire time. His hand beats you to it and wipes the following tears away. In a hushed tone, he asks, “Hey, hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” It’s that damn pet name again. You weren’t imagining things - he doesn’t treat everyone like this, you realize, this is all real.

Your eyes shut but the tears continue to fall. Thankfully, you manage to keep the noise to a minimum to avoid any unwanted attention. Between quiet sobs, you say, “I’m sorry, but nobody has ever liked me, and I couldn’t imagine anyone ever liking me back. I’m just not used to this. I thought this could only ever happen in my dreams.”

Eddie stays quiet as you tearfully explain your lack of dating history and the guys in school only ever asking you out as a joke, how it wrecked your self-esteem and by the time you were halfway through college you just gave up. Never in a million years did you imagine someone like Eddie would ever like you, but here he is. Eddie’s hand stays on you, eventually moving from your cheek down to your shoulder and down to your arm. It’s a comforting reminder that again, this is real and he’s there.

Once you’ve finished explaining yourself, Eddie squeezes the one hand he’s still holding. He says, “I wish I could have met you earlier, whether it be earlier in college or high school. I wish I could have made you realize how beautiful you are and shower you with compliments until you finally see yourself in the same way that I see you - as the most beautiful, stunning, perfect person in the entire universe. And sweetheart, if you let me, I promise to start right fucking now.”

You had to be dreaming at that point because Eddie Munson does not feel real to you. Either you’re dreaming or your daydreams have gotten a little too realistic. You chew at your lip and ask him, “You’re really serious?”

“As serious as a heart attack. Now, is that a date?”

You feel your face flush and nod sheepishly, having to break eye contact and look down at your conjoined hands. Eddie chuckles at your reaction and gives your hands a squeeze before he unfortunately lets go of them. He turns to face his laptop again and opens it back up before saying, “Great, now let’s get back to work, shall we?”

A few hours later, Eddie returns to his shared apartment with Steve with a pep in his step. He’s humming a little tune and places his backpack next to the door. Steve is lounging on the couch playing video games after class, having changed into a Hawkins Basketball hoodie and black sweats, when Eddie arrives and he’s immediately suspicious of him. It reminds Steve of the day that Eddie met you so he has an inkling of an idea of what could have happened today. Sure, Eddie has been in a better mood ever since the two of you reunited, but even this was a bit much.

Steve pauses the level and rests the controller on his chest before looking at his roommate - Eddie pads over to the kitchen and opens the fridge to survey the contents of it. After that he goes through each of the light oak cabinets, taking note of the snacks available to them. He’s talking to himself, something like, “The regular popcorn should be fine, right? She hasn’t complained about it so far…” and pulls his phone out to tap a quick message away. Eddie turns to the living room to head towards his room when he finally notices Steve. “Oh, Steve! Hey uh, can you do me a huge favor?”

Steve cocks a brow at Eddie and replies with a cautious, “Okay…? What is it?”

Eddie walks over to Steve on the couch and shoves a hand in his pocket, the other scratching at his stubble on his chin. Should he shave? No, you already saw him like this earlier. It would be weird if you came over and saw that he shaved. “Can you like… fuck off for the rest of the night?”

Steve scoffs and fully sits up, the video game controller long forgotten now and falls from his chest to his lap and onto the carpeted floor. “You want me to fuck off? Last time I checked we both live here.”

Eddie realized how that sounded the moment he closed his mouth and was already fumbling over his words to try and sound like less of a tool.

“I mean, I just need the place for a few hours. You’ve asked me to do the same thing, remember? Please.”

The former jock pulls a leg up to rest on the couch to lean on it. “Yeah man, but that’s for when Nancy comes over. Like, for a date.”

“Well, I… ok so,” Eddie shuffles his feet and kicks at the leg of the coffee table, looking up at Steve and raises his eyebrows at him, “I did as you told me to today.”

It takes Steve a second to realize what he’s talking about because, frankly, Steve has asked Eddie to do a lot of things. Like the dishes and to take out the bathroom trash. Also, Eddie can be a bit of a dumbass sometimes. Then, it clicks. He shoots up off the couch, the controller falling onto the carpeted floor with a muffled thump.

“Jesus Christ, you finally fucking did it. You asked her out? Seriously?”

Eddie squints and leans in, lowering his head and speaks in a hushed voice. “No Steve, i asked out the lady that works at the fucking dining hall. We have a real connection and bonded over the fucking pancakes. OF COURSE I ASKED HER OUT, YOU DUMBASS.”

Steve narrowly misses the coffee table as he runs past it to pull Eddie into a bear hug. Eddie is awkwardly standing there but eventually hugs his roommate and even laughs a little. He would never say this, but Steve is actually proud of Eddie for finally telling you how he felt. Steve swore he’d never see the day where his best friend would finally confess his feelings towards you. In fact, he was so confident that he and Robin made bets on it.

Steve remembers this and pulls away with a huff as he silently pads to the couch to grab his phone. Eddie watches him in confusion as his roommate seemingly angrily taps away on his phone. When Steve eventually looks up with pursed lips, Eddie cocks an eyebrow as if to ask what’s going on?

Steve states, “I owe Robin $25 now.”

taglist: @justalotoffanfiction @iyskgd

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #scripsi

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sorenphelps · 14 hours ago

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🦕 emergency🦖

a comic with very sloppy colouring which happens right after this ficlet, and right before this one, both written by @goldenlionprince for The Bodyguard AU. I originally wanted to add a second page, but it's mostly dialogue, so I attempted to write it instead. It's about 500 words, and should be read after the above comic page. Thanks for the beta @neverenoughmarauders. Also tagging @lovelymasks & @diamondmeadow.

“It is real and I just can't keep it under control anymore, okay? Yesterday he kissed me and I let him! I should be focused on his safety, but I... If he hadn't stopped I don't think I would have... I mean, I slept with my gun out of reach, damnit! What if someone attacked us?! And it's not just that I'm overworked and underfucked, it’s more like I actually... I want a relationship?... But I can't... You know me, I'm just not cut out for this, I shouldn’t...” Sirius says desperately without taking a single breath. Remus is still a little angry at him for making him so worried and rush to the museum, but his friend asks for his help so he will try his best. Sirius looks quite concerned after all. “Okay, take a breath and calm down. You know that having emotions is normal human behaviour, right? And contrary to popular belief, you are also just a mere human.” “Oh yeah, thank you for reminding me that he’s way out of my league!” Sirius snaps at him. “Oh, come on, we all know that’s not true!” Remus snaps back. “If you are so worried about your feelings, maybe you should just find yourself a hobby instead? Ever thought about doing pottery?” Remus knows he’s acting like a little shit, but you can’t deny a man his pleasures. Plus it is sure to anger Sirius. Ironically, anger can clear his mind better than logical reasoning in stressful situations. “That is precisely all I am doing! Come on, Remus, haven’t you paid any attention to what I’ve been saying?!” Sirius runs his fingers through his hair nervously, notices the familiarity of the movement, and again, starts thinking about James. He really is a goner. He lets out a frustrated grunt. “Look, I’m sorry for using the dino code, but I really need your help.” “All right. How can I help you though? If you want an emotional support plushie, I’m afraid you have to buy that yourself, but I promise I won’t tell the cashier that it is not actually a gift for your imaginary 5-years-old nephew. I can’t really make you fall out of love, but I can make you another emergency package with some books about love and a few packs of condoms. I can also talk you through it, or just silently let you figure it out yourself, while we look at some fossils. Or you can come home with me and help me finish folding the laundry.” “That's what you had to abandon? Wow, Lupin, I almost felt bad for a moment for interrupting your schedule of very important tasks with my problem.” He looks a little less stressed, but it only lasts until they cover the possibility of a relationship again. “I really want this, Remus, but… How do I not fuck this up so badly that he ends up running away to marry my cousin?!..” “Don’t be dramatic, you already ran out of available cousins to marry.” “Marry my brother then…” “Don’t be ridiculous, they haven't even spoken a word to each other, besides the only thing they have in common is you… Calm down, and use that big brain of yours to figure out what you really want. Then we can think about how to make that happen, okay?”

#sirius black #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #wolfstar #kind of #remadora #barely hinted at #prongsfoot #the bodyguard au #comic #fanart #art by lau #lau draws with a tablet #lau doesn't write because of reasons #long post

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florencebirdsong · 17 hours ago

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Valentine Event! I love love 💕

Could you please write an Agatha x fem! Reader where Agatha and Billy try to recover Agatha's body (they are successful) and in the process Agatha meets/crosses paths with her soulmate/true love, Reader

Reader is a witch who doesn't know she has powers and only believes she has good luck

Thank you

Happy late Valentine's Day! I hope you had a good one. Thank you for the request <3

Valentine’s Day Event 2025

Tags: ghost Agatha, reader is flabbergasted, ficlet

You have always considered yourself a lucky person but you don’t know if you would call this luck. A ghostly form of a beautiful woman floats in front of you. You can literally see the outline of your living room through her.

“Um…hello?” you probably shouldn’t be talking to her.

Talking to ghosts is not a good idea. Whether that’s because it’s a sign that you’re losing it or that because ghosts are always depicted as vengeful remains to be seen.

“Hello, dear,” she flashes you a brilliant, sharp smile, “The name’s Agatha Harkness. It’s lovely to finally meet you. A few centuries late but I won’t hold it against you.”

You continue to stare dumbly at her.

“I know this is shocking. Your soulmate’s a ghost. Dead. But,” she waves her hand in little flourish, “Soon to be undead. So no need to panic, dear.”

“Undead as in…?” your mouth is moving but your mind is still stuck on what you’re looking at.

“Oh, no. None of that nonsense,” she assures you. “I’ll be back to my former glory,” her hands run down her sides and your eyes following without your permission.

You finally process what she originally said.

“Wait, soulmate?”

She tilts her head.

“You don’t know,” she says.

“That I can see dead people? No, that’s news to me,” you hallucinating is also news to you. And soulmates. You need to make a list.

“Unexpected,” she murmurs to herself and then floats around you in a circle, gazing up and down your form. “Your magic is strong enough to manifest. You should have noticed something, surely. You need to be on your toes when dealing with me, darling.”

“Well, I’ve noticed a ghost. So, that’s something.”

“Anything a bit earlier?”

“Uh…” you need to get a bit more coherent if you want to keep talking to her. “I’m lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“Yeah. Like, supernaturally.”

“Strange,” she gives you another analysing look. “That’s not the usual way magic manifests itself.”

“Magic?”

“You are talking to a ghost, dear,” she says dryly.

“Right,” that has yet to fully sink in.

“That’s time,” a reedy teenager says, walking casually into the room like he isn’t breaking into you place.

Agatha looks annoyed at the interruption. You look between the teenager and the ghost.

“You can see her?” you ask faintly.

“Unfortunately,” he says.

“Great. Okay,” you run your hand down your face. “And who are you?”

“Billy,” he says simply.

You know what you should do. What’s rational. But magic would explain a lot about your life.

There’s also the draw you feel towards Agatha, but since that is so extremely irrational you’re not currently taking it into consideration.

“We really do need to go,” the teen says apologetically.

Making a snap decision, you go looking for your keys.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do,” you lie.

“Oh, goody. Now we don’t have to deal with your awful driving,” Agatha says to Billy.

“I’m a great driver and you know it,” Billy says.

Agatha doesn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll meet you at the car,” she winks at you, clicks her fingers, and disappears.

#birdsong writes #valentines day event 2025 #agatha all along #agatha h.#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha x reader #agatha x you

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just-a-little-unionoid · 1 day ago

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In which Stone sort of has a daughter and Ivo and her are not getting along

so I've talked about this fic I started writing back when the first movie came out and since a few people seem interested I decided to post what I wrote back then to test the water

on the base concept this fic is supposed to be stobotnik but this first part doesn't even has Stone in it, as it is only the first encounter between Robotnik and the kid

it's also not supposed to be the first chapter and it's short but that's all I got the motivation to write back then and it's been 4 years so I'm just, I'm gonna post it now cuz that's long enough okay, we will see how it goes later 😭

for context this takes place after the first movie and will only be canon-compliant up to that point

also uh cw r slur??? idk I don't condone the characters' language but it's there

tagging @thebadevil @alexcole1326 and @nosebleedy99 'cause you commented on the other post

- Meanwhile a few months latter on the mushroom planet -

The Doctor was looking for a way on a tricky path, a collapsing old mushroom cap he needed to step on in order to reach a better point of view, when his appliances went insane: there was some dimensional shit going on. He heard a big crack, like thunderbolt, then the dimentional fluctuation faded away.

Maybe two hours latter he heard something again, but something small, something he hadn't heard in a long time. It was not the wind, not the mushrooms growing, not his own breath, not Agent Stone rolling away. It was something that moved by itself, something alive, something animal. It was footsteps.

He was prepared for anything, really, he was prepared for humans, talking blue hedgehogs, other feaking rainbow animals, dinosaurs that would try to eat him... He was ready, and ready to fight for his life if necessary! What he wasn't really expecting though was a child in some kind of safety suit shaped like a dress? With a lot of shiny technological device attached here and there. He didn't get to see their face a lot but based on its proportions and the way it was standing it was obviously a human child, or a weirdly humanoid shaped alien, because as far as Robotnik knew the probability of an alien species to evolve in the exact same way as human, if statistically possible, was very low, and the probability to encounter it even lower.

The child glanced at him for a second and didn't even look up from the touchscreen tablet in their hands when they addressed him:

"I am looking for a human man who was known on his home planet, Earth, as Dr. Ivo Robotnik. Would you appear to 1) know English and 2) have seen a human looking quite like you, in that the human male standard shape and size are similar to yours. He should have a pale skin and dark hairs, and apparently a 'glorious mustache'?"

For once he didn't really know what to say, it only took half a second for him to remember how to register English words but the kid was faster and after a jaded sigh they resumed: "Nǐ huì shuō pǔtōnghuà ma? Kya aap hindee bolate hain? ¿Hablas español? Hal tatahadath alearabiatu? Tumi ki bān-"

"YES I do speak English, and other language stoo, thank you very much. Who are you and what are you doing here anyway?"

"I am here to find the Dr. Ivo Robotnik, I have already said that. Are you retarded or something? If you are don't worry I can explain things again, more slowly, I am trained for that."

"I AM, Dr. Ivo Robotnik," he said, trying very hard not to break the child's neck. "I know you're looking for me, what I'm asking is why? Who are you and who sent you here? No. You know what in fact I don't care who you are. I just want to know who sent you. Which government or secret agency, that sort of thing."

The mildly disgusted and doubtful facial expression they made as they were double-checking his appearance was speaking volumes about their internal thoughts.

"I have no more time to dedicate to you. I'm a very busy person and searching for you already wasted far more of my precious time than you deserve. All you need to know is that a very important person want you and you will follow me now if you don't want me to make use of force."

And on that, the child turned their back to him and disappeared behind a mushroom.

Great. One of those child genius who thought they were above everyone else just because they worked for a random government. He should know, he was one of them. But that kid would learn soon enough what their real place was: down below.

He still followed them though, because they looked like they knew a way back and, well, even if he was smart enough to find a way by himself, thank you very much, the sooner he could beat that hedgehog the better it was. Also, he could just kill them after learning whatever device brought them here and no one would know.

–––

Soon they arrived to a more open area. The child seemingly took measurements, they walked around taking notes on their pad for a few minutes then stopped.

"Come here," they said while pointing the ground. "Don't move."

They took a device from their bag, some kind of tripod filled with wires and LEDs, and placed it on the ground. They stepped back and typed on their screen some more.

The tripod beeped and light beams came out of it, scaning the mushroom cap they where standing on. A dozen of flat devices escaped from the bag and and went to place themselves on strategic points marked by the beams.

The child then placed what looked like a power cell in the tripod. That blue glow emanating from it, could it be... But he had no time to think about it, lights amplificated by stimulated emission of radiation came out of the tripode and to the discs, reflecting into the others, and soon the whole place was illuminated. Reality torn open for the second time this day in a deafening din.

When he oppened his eyes again a ring, looking almost exactly like the one that brought him here, was now open on the ground before him. Almost, because it looked like it opened on a room specifically equipped for that purpose, and with the whole procedure to activate it, it could only mean it was a more primitive technology.

The Doctor looked up at the child, who was scrutinizing him for his reaction.

"I bet you didn't do that yourself, it looks just like this creature's gold rings portals," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah of course," responded the child with spite, "it's reverse engineering."

"Lame."

"Well at least I'm not stupidly stuck on a damn mushroom planet like an idiot. I favour efficiency upon ego, that's why I am here saving your ass and you are pathetically crawling over there covered in mushroom goo. Now, you will have to excuse me..."

They pressed some hiden button in their gloves and Robotnik felt something stinging his neck.

"...but I don't trust you."

The last thing he thought while falling to the ground and through the ring was: "But... That's my tech..."

#soooo... what do you think of it?#i think it's like the second time i post any of my writing in public so im not gonna lie im a little nervous #there was a little more written but it's back on earth so i decided to just cut the 'chapter' in half and focus on that part #i don't have a title yet but im gonna try to think of one #the kid has a couple reasons to hate ivo it's not 100% gratuitous #but you may learn about that in the future 👀#i mean if... if you're interested 👉👈#also you very much can send me asks about this story if you want it might help with motivation maybe? (please)#(im very afraid of not being able to keep writing im a total mess ngl)#anyway uh... i should stop rambling #oh also don't hesitate to point out spelling or grammar errors or anything‚ english is *still* not my first language ah ah #stobotnik #is that okay if i tag the ship even tho this part is very much not about it?#like i kinda plan for it to happen at some point maybe but im not *sure* it will because i don't really have a *full* story planed y'know

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kallie-den · 2 days ago

Text

Lifestyle Takeover Ch. 4

With Vivienne alert to Mel's schemes, she leads Mel and Emma into a surprise showdown... but is she quite as in control as she thinks?

This is a commission from Neana, and a sequel to Lifestyle Journalism! Previous chapters can be found under the same tag

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---

Vivienne Gilbert had to fight with her entire being to keep a neutral expression as she waited in the conference room of her corporate HQ for her guests to arrive. Part of her—most of her—was so furious, it was all but impossible to keep her face darkening into a look of thunderous anger. All night, she’d been stewing in the kind of rage only shame could conjure up. Keeping a lid on it was a struggle, but it wouldn’t do to let her emotions show. For a woman of Vivienne’s station, there was no telling who might be watching.

Another part of her, though, the part Vivienne was straining most of all to keep suppressed, urged a broad, bright, dumb grin to dawn across her face. That part of Vivienne was sneaky. It ambushed her whenever she was distracted. Whenever she let her mind wander. Whenever a stray thought crossed her mind: a memory, a feeling, a mantra.

A name. That ridiculous name.

Vivienne was constantly trying to keep herself centered and calm, to rein in her anger, to take deep, measured breaths—but whenever she did, it was right there; that sticky, pink headspace, threatening to claim her once again. Vivienne felt like she was walking on a tightrope, and it was so damn hard to keep her balance.

Especially given what she was wearing.

So far, the best method Vivienne had found to keep herself under control was to focus on her imminent revenge. She’d spent a long, frenzied night making plans and dreaming up sordid, vengeful fantasies. That mindset had a matching facial expression too: a malicious, sadistic, superior smirk. While it wouldn’t do to tip off her intended victims, Vivienne didn’t mind letting that one show through from time to time.

It was the right look for a hypnogarch—and that was exactly what Vivienne was. A mind controller. A leader. A dominant. She wouldn’t forget it. And nor would anybody else.

“Ms. Gilbert,” one of her many brainwashed subordinates called out, opening the door a crack and sticking her head through. “Your guests have arrived. They’re on their way up.”

“Thank you.” Vivienne knew that her minions, at least, wouldn’t judge her for the way she looked. They weren’t capable of it. “Send them right in.”

“Yes, Ms. Gilbert.”

The door closed. Vivienne took a moment to arrange her face one last time, into a vacant, dull, entirely nonthreatening smile. She did her best not to think about how easy it was.

Then, no more than a minute later, the door to the conference room opened again. Melanie Adams stepped through.

Vivienne shivered at the sight of her pocket watch, worn around Mel’s neck like a pendant.

That aside, Vivienne was pleased to see that Mel seemed completely at ease and unguarded. If anything, she looked a touch smug. Already confident in her victory. That was part of Vivienne’s plan. She’d had her people invite Mel to the headquarters of Valeyard Solutions, her company, under the pretext of ‘talking business’. Probably, Mel assumed that Vivienne was going to cave and accept her parents’ offer, just like Mel had primed her to.

Everything was proceeding just as she’d planned.

“Hi, Vivi,” Mel greeted her, grinning. “You look great.”

Vivienne had to really try not to visibly shiver with treasonous pleasure at the name and the compliment.

The ridiculous outfit Vivienne was wearing was all part of her plan, of course. That was the reason she’d gotten dressed up in the pink, slutty, faux-business outfit Emma had bought for her the day before. The only reason. If she was wearing her normal clothes, Vivienne had reasoned, it might tip off Mel right away. It was just what she had to do.

But that didn’t make it any easier to deal with how it made her feel.

Vivienne pushed down on the feeling. This was her moment of triumph. Soon, all that would be behind her.

“Hello, Mel,” she said smoothly, once the door closed and locked behind the other woman. The look of surprise on Mel’s voice as she registered the focused, alert tone of Vivienne’s voice was a delicious reward. “I’m flattered you think so. But soon enough, I think you’ll find that you’ll be the one to… to…”

Vivienne’s words faded away as Emma, Mel’s pet bimbo girlfriend, stepped out from behind her owner.

A little whine slipped out from Vivienne’s throat. It was completely unfair how good Emma looked.

She looked like she had come straight from working out. The sway of her hips was what had Vivienne’s attention; Emma was wearing a pair of tiny yoga shorts—pink, naturally—stretched taut around her perfectly sculpted thighs. The way they looked on her made Vivienne throb with yearning. After a long—too long—moment, she made herself raise her eyes. Seeing that, on top, Emma was wearing nothing more than a sports bra stunned her all over again.

The irrepressible, giggling grin on her face and cute pink sweatband across her forehead completed the look. It was one Vivienne had seen over and over again on Emma’s OnlyFans. Night after night, time after time, touching herself to the gorgeous bimbo. Even now, Vivienne was struck by how utterly, blissfully happy she seemed.

“Well, where did I go wrong?” Mel asked smoothly. Vivienne cursed herself for giving her rival a chance to regain her balance. “I thought I had you.”

“Almost,” Vivienne snarled. Now the object of her ire was right in front of her, she could barely constrain her fury. “But you’re too much of an amateur. You shouldn’t have let me go home, Melanie. Never let a wild animal out of the trap.”

Mel simply nodded. “I guess I’ll have to remember that.”

"Oh, don’t trouble yourself!” Vivienne scoffed. “Soon, I’ll make sure you don’t remember anything at all. Not even your own name. You thought you were going to make me dumb, Mel? I promise you, you don’t even know the meaning of the word. Not yet.”

She’d hoped Mel would look scared. Instead, she simply seemed disappointed. Perhaps that was why her own boasting felt oddly hollow to Vivienne.

Emma, meanwhile, was completely unperturbed. She barely seemed to be paying attention. She was standing at Mel’s side and, as Vivienne watched, she began stretching out a little; first her arms, then her shoulders, then her back. There was something almost cat-like about her. She was completely at ease. Vivienne couldn’t help but marvel at it. She’d never been that relaxed anywhere, not even in the safety of her own home.

Except for yesterday, of course.

“So,” Mel ventured. “What happens now?”

Vivienne’s cheeks burned as she realized that, once again, she’d allowed herself to succumb to distraction.

“Now,” she said, rallying, “it’s very simple. I’m going to hypnotize you.”

Infuriatingly, Mel just smiled. “Didn’t you already try that?”

Vivienne’s hands balled into fists. Her knuckles turned white.

“That…” she spat. “That was… I was not at my best. This time, it will be different.”

“You’re at your best?” Mel shot back. “I see. Is that why you’re wearing… that?”

Vivienne had been prepared for a jab about her clothing. Being prepared didn’t help. It was all she could do to keep herself from squeezing her thighs together. Why did the embarrassment have to sing so sweetly in her ears?

“I… did what I had to do,” Vivienne said, making her voice carefully even. “Couldn’t have anyone tipping you off early.”

One thing Vivienne hadn’t been at all prepared for was the chill that raced down her spine when Mel looked her in the eyes and told her: “Bullshit.”

The CEO blinked dumbly for a moment. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t think that’s why you wore that outfit.” Mel tilted her head, studying Vivienne. “I don’t think that’s the reason at all.”

Vivienne couldn’t hold her gaze. She looked away. “I… that isn’t…”

“Tell me.”

“I… you gave me this compulsion,” Vivienne attempted, seized with an irresistible urge to justify herself to Mel. “It was too distracting. I had to give in. Just for a moment. Just tactically, until I-“

“Bullshit,” Mel repeated. “Tell me.”

“I am!” Vivienne felt herself quake with Mel’s command. Since when did this trust fund brat hold so much power over her?

“Come on,” Mel needled. “Out with it, Vivi.”

Another shiver. “D-don’t call me that.”

“Then I suppose I’ll say it.” Mel was as calm as ever, and Vivienne couldn’t seem to find the strength to interrupt her. “You put that outfit on because you wanted to. Didn’t you? Because you like those clothes. Because they make you feel good.”

The hot breath of pleasure that washed over Vivienne was like nothing she’d ever felt before. “N-n-nooo,” she replied, but it came out more like a moan than a denial.

“Oh yes,” Mel told her. “You look great, by the way. Really cute.”

Vivienne was ready to bite back, but she paused when she registered the complete lack of condescension in Mel’s voice. Her rival was being completely sincere.

She looked cute?

That comment had Vivienne blushing deeper than ever before.

“You know,” Mel added softly. “You don’t have to do this.”

Vivienne glanced up at her sharply. “What?”

“Hypnotize me, I mean,” Mel said. “You really don’t. It’s up to you.”

Vivienne tried to laugh. It wasn’t convincing. “Why wouldn’t I want to hypnotize you?”

Mel shrugged mysteriously. “Maybe you’ve had enough of fighting. Enough of struggling. Maybe you just want to relax and feel good, for a change.”

Goosebumps. All over Vivienne’s body. “That’s…”

“Wasn’t it nice?” Mel pressed. “Being Vivi, yesterday?”

Vivienne’s breath caught in her throat. That was one question she tried her hardest not to ask herself.

Because the answer was all too obvious. Yes. It had felt good. It had felt amazing.

“Yeah,” Vivienne whispered. The confession was a thrill.

“I see. Good!” Mel said brightly. She reached up to her neck and unclasped Vivienne’s pocket watch. “Well, if you do still want to hypnotize me, I suppose you’ll need this.”

She held it out, offering it back to its rightful owner. Vivienne just stared at it, dumbstruck. She should have been trying to figure out if the gesture was some kind of psychological trick. Instead, all she could think about was how heavy the pocket watch looked.

“Go on,” Mel urged.

Gingerly, Vivienne took it from her. It no longer felt right in her hand.

“Go ahead,” Mel said easily. “Take your best shot. Hypnotize me—if you can.”

“If… I can?” Vivienne’s voice had lost all of its cool, arrogant edge.

Hypnotize Mel? She wasn’t sure she could remember how to begin.

She was struggling to face up to how quickly she’d lost control of herself. Control of the conversation. She’d walked in here with a plan, Vivienne tried to remind herself. All she needed to do was remember it. Everything had seemed so clear. Her anger. Her purpose. What had happened to all that?

Vivienne already knew the answer. It was her. Emma.

Emma hadn’t spoken, but she was standing right there and Vivienne couldn’t keep herself from glancing at her. She was so hot. So happy. So dumb. So perfect. She radiated a kind of serene bimbo self-assurance that was all but magnetic. It was impossible not to wonder what was going on in her head, even though Vivienne already knew the answer: nothing.

She’d always wondered about that nothingness. How did it feel? What was it like to live that way? Now she knew, and she couldn’t forget. It was so tempting, it was right there, still lurking at the back of my mind, inviting her back into its blissful arms.

One, two, three! One, two, three! Emma’s the only one for me!

“You failed to hypnotize me before, Vivi,” Mel was saying. Not pointedly. Just stating an unavoidable fact. “Just like you failed to get a grip on your obsession with Emma. You still can’t stop looking at her. Just like you failed to resist dressing up this way this morning. You tried, didn’t you? But you just couldn’t help yourself.”

Without realizing what she was giving away, Vivienne nodded.

“Face it,” Mel insisted. That earlier moment of softness made her criticism hit all the harder. “You’re losing control.”

That sent a shiver through Vivienne. Mel was right, she knew. She was losing control. Losing the one thing she had always prized. She couldn’t tell if the thought horrified her or excited her more. She had to try and win it back.

Didn’t she?

“But I can tell you what nobody else will,” Mel continued. “That it’s OK. It’s OK to lose control, Vivienne. It’s OK that you’re not good enough. It’s OK that you can’t win.”

“I…” Vivienne couldn’t put a name to the way hearing that made her feel.

“It’s OK that you’re not good enough,” Mel repeated. Her voice was so soft. It was so easy to listen to her. “There can be other things for you, Vivi. Things that feel even better than winning. I’d love to show them to you.”

Once more, Vivienne couldn’t resist glancing at Emma.

She wanted to say ‘yes’ to Mel. She really did. There was no longer any point in denying the obvious. Vivienne wanted it. But still, for as much fun as it had been, she couldn’t quite bring herself to give in to her desires. Her pride, battered and bruised though it was, was still there, holding her back.

Her family name. Her long-held ambition. It was all she’d ever had. Vivienne couldn’t let it slip through her fingers just for the sake of something as vapid and silly as wanting to be like her favorite bimbo porn star.

Could she?

“I…” Vivienne made herself lift the pocket watch. Maybe once she began the induction, she’d find her rhythm again. She had to hope so. “That’s… not true. I’m going to beat you, Mel. And your parents. And I’ll climb all the way to the top, and… and…”

She trailed off. What was all this for, again?

And to her surprise, the person who spoke up next wasn’t Mel. It was Emma.

“Uh…” Emma ventured, her bimbo grin a little more nervous than usual as she looked at Vivienne. “Does this mean, like… we can’t go on any more shopping trips?”

That, more than anything else, left Vivienne feeling truly lost.

Mel was swift to seize on the open vulnerability she saw on Vivienne’s face. “That’s right, Emma,” Mel said. “That’s what Vivi wants. No more shopping trips. No more dress-up. No more Vivi.”

“Aww,” Emma pouted. “But it was so much fun!”

Vivienne whined.

“It was,” Mel agreed. “But you heard her! It’s over. No more hanging out, no more giggling, no more pink.” Sensing that the CEO had reached the threshold of her failing well, Mel looked straight at her. Daring her to agree. “Isn’t that right, Vivienne?”

No more pink…

Vivienne thought about the life she was proposing to go back to. Endless meetings. Endless reports. Endless watching her back. Always fixated on the next goal, on the next fiscal quarter, on the next rival to be subdued. The constant exhaustion that came from working fourteen-hour days every day and every week. If she took down Mel, even her one pleasure—looking at Emma’s OnlyFans and fantasizing—would be ruined.

No. She couldn’t do it again. Not for one more day. It was more than she could face.

“P-please…” Vivienne said quietly.

“What’s that, Vivi?” Mel prompted, smirking. The shiver that raced down Vivienne’s spine in that moment was better than anything she’d ever felt.

“Please.” Vivienne glanced at Emma. Her voice cracked. “Make me… like her.”

She closed her eyes, braced for crowing and mockery. Instead, all Mel said was: “Of course.”

Vivienne let out a shuddery breath. This was it. She’d given up. She’d been broken.

She didn’t regret it.

“But,” Mel added after a moment. “If you’re surrendering to me, it has to be willing. Right now, you’re the one with the power.” She gestured to the pocket watch Vivienne was holding. “You want to be brainwashed? Show me.”

Vivienne all but moaned as she realized what Mel was proposing. She was embarrassed, but not ashamed. Now that she’d taken the plunge, she could embrace submission with all her heart.

“Yes, Mel,” she said demurely, and dangled the pocket watch in front of her own face.

No motion was more familiar to Vivienne Gilbert than swinging a pocket watch. She had done it countless times, always bringing some chosen victim under her power. But she had never done it quite like this, with the watch’s face facing toward her, allowing her eyes to rest on the tip of the second hand as it ticked mechanically around the clock. Even so, it felt perfectly natural. Vivienne was able to relax and let her muscle memory do the work for her so that her mind could give all of itself into the object that started to swing steadily back and forth in front of her face.

Hypnosis. Self-hypnosis. What was the difference? Vivienne had hypnotized so many people. What was one more?

Vivienne took a long, deep breath and let herself focus, and unfocus. Let everything but the pocket watch fade into a pleasant, indistinct blur.

As she did, she couldn’t but imagine all the things she might say to a prospective subject in her position. She might suggest that they could already feel themselves being tugged under by trance’s irresistible pull in all kinds of small ways. And Vivienne could—it was right there, after all, the part of her that made it seem like it would be so easy to just give up and be Vivi. She might hint that their thoughts were turning slow, sluggish—and hers were. It was such a relief, to not need to think. To not be able to. To just be dumb. She might tell them that following motion with your eyes was as natural as instincts got, and impossible to fight. And that was certainly true for Vivienne.

She couldn’t fight. She didn’t want to fight.

Thank goodness.

Vivienne quickly found that her own expertise in hypnosis became her undoing. Even if she’d wanted to struggle against it, she couldn’t help but find the way her own mind succumbed to the process irresistibly fascinating. She was so perfectly aware of how, exactly, it worked; of the way the second hand’s ticking served as just the right kind of distraction to keep her conscious thoughts preoccupied while her subconscious mind settled into a relaxed stupor, open and vulnerable. She could feel it through her entire body, in the way her heart beat and the way her muscles let go of their tension. Vivienne recognized it for what it was.

Submission.

It was so good. It was so hot.

Within just a couple of minutes, Vivienne was left at the cusp. Her eyelids drooped, held open only by her need to keep staring at the pocket watch. Her mind had become so weak and so slow, she couldn’t form a single clear thought. She was ready to let someone else take control. Ready to let another voice fill her head and tell her what to think. What to be.

And Mel was right there.

“Good girl, Vivi,” Mel said, perhaps sensing Vivienne’s need for a guiding hand. The CEO shivered at the name. “Just keep looking. Keep swinging. Keep breathing. That’s all you have to do.”

Her careful emphasis filled Vivienne with warmth. It was all she had to do. Look. Swing. Breathe. No more. No longer.

“Even you can manage that, can’t you?” Mel teased. “You might not be able to beat me. You might not be able to control yourself. But even you can stare at a silly little pocket watch.”

Her teasing should have raised Vivienne’s choler. Instead, it was a comfort. Mel was right. She wasn’t good enough to be a CEO. Not good enough to be Vivienne Gilbert. She couldn’t make it in that life.

She was only good enough to be Vivi.

“It feels good,” Mel continued, voice dripping with affirming condescension. “Doesn’t it? Getting dumb for the watch. Getting dumb for me.”

Vivi nodded.

“So dumb,” Mel soothed. “You don’t need to think about anything. Don’t need to remember anything. Isn’t that right?”

Vivi nodded again. A wide, dull smile was coming to her slack face.

“Soon,” Mel promised, “you’ll be just like Emma.”

Just like Emma. Vivi sighed happily at the mere thought.

“You already look like her, after all,” Mel laughed. “Pretty in pink. Cute. Adorable, really. You two are like peas in a pod.”

Vivi shivered.

“I bet you can giggle just like her,” Mel encouraged. “Can’t you? Try it for me.”

Obediently, Vivi giggled.

“Good girl.” She giggled again at the praise. “Doesn’t it feel good? Giggling like that.”

It did. It really did.

“You’re not a serious person anymore,” Mel told her. “Not scary. Not powerful. Not smart. Nobody is going to take you seriously anymore. You’re just a silly, giggly bimbo.”

Another giggle. Vivi had never felt so relaxed. The things Mel promised were exactly what her fantasies were made of.

“That’s right,” Mel pressed. “It comes naturally to you, doesn’t it? The more you giggle, the dumber you get. The dumber you get, the more you giggle.”

That was an easy little mantra for Vivi to keep in her head. It was so simple and so stereotypical that, at once, it held the bimbo completely within its power.

She giggled, and felt herself grow even more relaxed and air-headed. It was perfect.

“That’s right,” Mel laughed. “Just like that. Very good. Try again.”

Vivi giggled—and then moaned, as she felt her long-prized sharpness and intelligence slip even further out of her grasp.

She wondered what her employees and rivals might think of her if they saw her like this. Giggling, plainly entranced, and dressed in slutty, glorious, ridiculous pink.

Mel was right. Nobody was going to take her seriously anymore. Fuck, it was such a relief. Such a turn-on.

She giggled again. She got dumber again. She loved it.

“Excellent,” Mel praised. “I think you’re almost ready, Vivi. But before you get too dumb, there’s just one more thing I need you to do for me.”

When Mel reached out and plucked the pocket watch from Vivi’s fingers for the very last time, the hypnotized woman blinked in surprise and confusion. She looked blearily to her new mistress for answers.

“I had the papers drawn up last night,” Mel said to her. “Emma?”

Emma reached into her bag and pulled out a slim, plastic envelope. She handed it over to Mel, who pulled out the sheets of paper within. She set them down on the conference room table, along with a pen.

“Here.”

Vivi glanced at the papers. She could barely make her eyes focus, and she certainly couldn’t make sense of some of the longer words, but enough of it jumped out to her for her to get the gist of it.

This was a contract. A very simple one, in fact. It was for her to turn over her ownership of Valeyard Solutions to Melanie Adams and her family’s holding corporation.

Slowly, Vivi picked up the pen. Dimly, she was aware of what signing the contract would mean. Her life’s work, gone in a moment. The source of all her wealth and prestige, thrown away. For any would-be hypnogarch, it was the ultimate, irretrievable defeat.

For a brief moment, the sheer enormity of that seemed to exert a tidal pull on Vivi, threatening to drag her kicking and screaming back to wakefulness. Was this really what she wanted?

Then the moment passed, and she giggled.

What was Vivi going to do with a whole company, anyway? She was just a ditzy little bimbo.

“Yes, Mel” she said blankly, shivering as she gave in to her ultimate fantasy. She picked up the pen and, guided only by muscle memory, signed the name ‘Vivienne Yvette Gilbert’ on the dotted line.

All gone. And with it, all that remained of Vivi’s old identity.

“Good girl,” Mel told her, although it was clear the other woman could barely contain her celebratory laughter. “Very, very good. I’m proud of you.”

Vivi giggled happily. Mel was proud of her! That was all that mattered—and that was so blissfully simple.

“Time to take you down the rest of the way,” Mel said. “Don’t worry. I promise, you won’t remember a thing.”

She reached out and touched the tip of her finger to Vivi’s forehead. As if by magic, Vivi’s mind became still. Then Mel stroked her hand down Vivi’s face in a hypnotic gesture that, somehow, pulled Vivi’s eyes shut.

“Go to sleep, Vivi.”

***

A little less than two weeks later, Mel found herself sitting in that same conference room, wearing the kind of neat, tight-fitting, eye-wateringly expensive suit she’d spent most of her life resisting being put in. But for some occasions, it was a necessity; as the new president of Valeyard Solutions, she’d been taking a conference call with some of the company’s investors and partners in order to reassure them about its new leadership.

Apparently, she’d acquitted herself well. Although Mel was sure it had helped that her mothers, two of the city’s most powerful hypnogarchs, were now among those investors and partners.

Now, after terminating the call, Mel was taking the time to sign off on a few things that one of Valeyard’s many identical, brainwashed secretaries had brought for her approval. The hypnotized women staffing the executive floors were certainly efficient, albeit, Mel thought, a little dreary. She was considering a change in official color scheme.

“I think that’s all of it,” Mel announced, as she put her signature on the last form. “Thank you.”

“Yes, Ms. Adams,” the secretary said, more than a little robotically. She picked up the slab of paperwork.

Then, Mel twitched abruptly.

“Ms. Adams?” the secretary asked, her face blank. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Mel said quickly, a slight blush filling her cheeks. “Completely. You can, um, go now.”

“Yes, Ms. Adams,” the secretary said, nodding her head. Obediently, she turned and started walking away—just quickly enough that she didn’t see Mel twitch again.

After what felt like an eternity, the secretary stepped out of the conference room and let the heavy door fall closed behind her. At once, Mel let out a huge, panted, pleasure-filled breath that made her whole body heave.

“G-god,” she moaned, looking down under the conference table. “I didn’t think you’d make it that hard to keep quiet!”

After much giggling, out from under the table crawled Emma and Vivi.

“Sorry!” Emma tittered. Her face was dripping with pussy. “It turns out Vivi is just, like, a super quick learner when it comes to eating you out!”

“Um,” Vivi giggled, blushing from the praise. Her face was dripping too. “I dunno about being, um, a quick learner, or whatever. I’m just a dummy!”

“No, no,” Mel told her. “I think Emma’s right. You really hit the, ah, spot, just now.”

Emma and Vivi turned to each other and embraced, giggling and blushing as hopelessly as schoolgirls.

To look at her now, almost nobody would have recognized Vivi, corporate bimbo, as Vivienne Gilbert. The makeover Mel and Emma had given her was total. To see that the girlish, giggling figure kneeling before Mel was once the woman who had once made headlines as a corporate conqueror, you would have to look past her bleached blonde hair, her frivolous, absent-minded demeanor, and the layers and layers of heavy makeup that gave her sweeping eyeliner, glittery cheeks, and pink, thick, pouty lips.

And, of course, there was her outfit. Mel had enjoyed Vivi dressing like a secretary so much, she had decided to make that the cornerstone of her newest bimbo’s new aesthetic. In fact, Vivi was now dressed in almost exactly the same uniform as her former employees—with just a few small but all-important changes. It was all pink, naturally, and the blouse was cut lower, and the skirt, much, much higher. All the better to show off Vivi’s body, which—thanks to Emma’s workouts—had never looked better.

Plenty of bright pink exercise gear had also made it into Vivi’s new wardrobe. It was only fitting, for Emma’s new OnlyFans co-star.

Mel smiled as she thought about some of the collab videos the two of them had made. Yes, this life suited Vivi much, much better than corporate leadership ever had.

“Come on, girls,” Mel chided, voice sultry. She spread her legs. “I said you were doing a good job. I didn’t say the job was finished.”

“Yes, Mel!” chorused her bimbos, and dove back to their knees.

Greedy for pleasure, Mel moaned as she felt their tongues against her sex as the two of them pressed themselves between her thighs, jockeying for position.

She couldn’t help it. They were so damn hot, and they’d been getting her worked up all through that meeting.

That was most of Vivi’s new job. She appeared with Emma on OnlyFans sometimes, but most of her days were spent at the office with Mel, serving as her personal assistant—at least, of a kind. She no longer had much capacity for organization, but she was terrific for morale. Quite the little boardroom cheerleader. Vivi had taken to her new role like a duck to water, without the slightest hint of reservation or regret.

It helped, of course, that she no longer remembered anything of who she’d used to be. Mel had made sure of that. Vivi was much, much happier without all of that baggage.

“Oh yeah,” Mel purred, as Vivi buried her tongue deep inside her cunt. “Right there.”

She wasn’t sure if it was Vivi being a quick learner or Emma being a good teacher, but either way, her new pet was quickly learning all the best ways to satisfy Mel. Now, as she lapped eagerly at her owner, Vivi kept glancing up, eyes fogged over with lust and gratification, so she could check on Mel’s responses.

“Good job!” Emma tittered, pulling back from a moment. “But don’t forget about…”

Mel’s moans turned throaty, desperate, as Emma surged forward and planted her lips on her clit, sucking and teasing eagerly.

“F-fuck!” Mel squealed, writhing as she stained the leather of her expensive, executive chair with her wetness.

“Wow,” Vivi giggled. “You’re, like, so smart, Emma.”

All three of them giggled as one.

Then, Emma joined her fellow bimbo, and suddenly Mel had both of them fighting to make her feel good, licking at her clit, clinging to her thighs, breathing and lapping against her sensitive skin. After hours of being forced to stifle her moans and her pleasure, it was more than she could take.

“Fuck!” she moaned again. “Oh my god, yes! Just like that, good girls. That’s perfect! I’m-“

“And now,” Emma giggled, pulling back on Vivi’s shoulder, “just like… stop for a moment.”

Emma couldn’t keep a lid on her whine of disappointment as both of them drew back.

“Hey!” she protested. “What are you doing?”

“See,” Emma stage-whispered to Vivi, while they both giggled. “She’s mad at me… but she’s totally gonna cum her brains out if you tease her like that a few times.”

“I told you to finish the job!” Mel complained, a big smile on her face. “That means you’re meant to get me off right away, babe.”

“Sorry, Mel!” Emma sang, before putting the prettiest, most perfect pout Mel had ever seen on her face. “I guess I was just, like, a little too dumb to know that.”

For a moment, Mel was stunned by her cheek. Then she rolled her eyes and started laughing.

“Oh my god,” she howled. “You know I’m going to have to punish you for teaching Vivi your bad habits, right?”

Emma just batted her eyelashes. “I sure hope so, mistress.”

Her lusty, submissive tone immediately lit a fire within Mel. “You,” she said, beckoning Emma up toward her. “Come here. And you?” She glanced down at Vivi. “Get back to work.”

Before Vivi could reply, Mel wrapped a hand in her hair and forced the bimbo secretary back into her cunt.

She moaned again when, immediately, obediently, Vivi pushed her tongue back into Mel’s cunt, working her back toward orgasm just as Emma had taught her. Emma, meanwhile, rose unsteadily to her feet before Mel grabbed her waist and pulled her against her. The bimbo slumped across Mel’s lap, and her owner pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss.

“You know,” Mel panted, after they broke off. “I still owe you a proper thanks.”

“A proper, um, thanks?” Emma echoed, confused. “For what?”

“For her.” Mel indicated down at Vivi. When Emma still looked confused, she went on: “I couldn’t have done it without you, babe. Seriously. I may be a hypnotist, but you? You lured her in. You helped me figure out the perfect way to get into her head. You made that video. You tempted her. You made her want it. It’s all thanks to you.”

“Awww!” Emma melted against her lover, turning a brighter shade of pink than ever. “Mel, that’s, um, wow! I, like, don’t even know what to say.”

“I love that you’re too dumb not to set me up like that.” Mel winked, although the playful gesture was somewhat spoiled by the way she kept panting and rolling her hips as Vivi ate her out. “Cause, actually, I was hoping you’d say…”

Mel slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out a small case. She opened it, to reveal an engagement ring.

Emma’s squeal of delight drowned out even the obscene sounds coming from between Mel’s legs.

“Now that we have another bimbo in our life, I want to make it clear just how important you are to me,” Mel explained, staring lovingly at her girlfriend. “Plus, I’ve actually been thinking a lot about her. About how unhappy Vivienne was. I… may be going down the same road in life, but I don’t want to end up in the same place. I think having you by my side is going to make sure that doesn’t happen. You make me happy, darling.”

Emma was all but tearing up as she stared at the ring. She kept giggling, then sniffling, then clasping her hands over her face.

“So…” Mel prompted eventually, once she couldn’t bear the tension.

“Yes! Obviously!” Emma erupted, throwing her arms around Mel. “I love you!”

“I love you too.”

Emma pulled back, and the two of them kissed once more.

“You know,” Mel said roguishly after they broke off, as she slipped the ring onto Emma’s finger, “it might be a lot of work, but there are a few perks to being the boss of this whole place.”

“Oh yeah?”

“For example.” As she spoke, Mel slid her hand down Emma’s body, resting it briefly on her waist. Her hips. Her ass. “If I want to take the rest of the day off, nobody can stop me.”

“You’re so smart, Mel,” Emma giggled. “And you, like, owe me that punishment!”

“Right,” Mel laughed—then moaned, as Vivi attacked her clit again. “B-but you better be careful, babe. Soon enough, Vivi here will be giving you a run for your money.”

The bimbo between her legs giggled proudly, the sound muffled by Mel’s body.

“Nuh-uh!” Emma retorted huffily and slid her way out of Mel’s lap. She elbowed Vivi out of the way, and pressed her face against her new fiancée’s cunt, eager to prove her prowess.

It was just as Mel had intended. As the two perfectly sculpted bimbos started competing for her favor, fiercely but amicably, all she needed to do was sit back in her comfortable executive chair, relax, and enjoy the waves of pleasure that carried her to orgasm.

Maybe becoming a hypnogarch wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

—

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