#i’ve had this conversation with a few of my friends because like seriously in the grand scheme giving up like
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dykeomania · 11 months ago
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i’m also really sorry but continuing to actively promote a brand or a franchise that is notably guilty and complicit and even exploitative of what’s happening in palestine not even just financially but promotionally (continuing to write for said franchise, continuing to repost things relating to said franchise, at all) is morally counterproductive and contradictory and i just have to say that because i feel like no one else is going to
#and i’m going to be so honest this is in fact directed at the last of us writers#because if you do all of this only to continue to write for fictional characters that have ties to the game and the game itself is like#problematic in nature#then that doesn’t make any sense#you kind of have to stand on business#i feel like what’s happening in palestine is such a real thing that extends far beyond like fictional characters#and especially if there’s a company or something that is moving in a pro israel fashion in any way#if you choose to embrace that on your own terms so that you can feel better#you’re still embracing that company#you’re still embracing that franchise#you are not fully standing on business#and that to some extent makes what you’re doing performative#i’ve had this conversation with a few of my friends because like seriously in the grand scheme giving up like#comfortable access to like starbucks and games and tv shows that outwardly have a pro israel narrative or support israel#is really not that difficult and if it is difficult for you then i think you need to redefine your activism#it’s not a matter of what you’re doing right now but what i will say if this conversation surrounding palestine dies down and people just#go back to pretty much what is business as usual and disregard everything you’re doing now if you’re doing anything now#that’s really not okay#and it’s actively not okay to play for two teams#especially when one so clearly morally outweighs the other#stand up#download hinge#or tinder#find another fandom to write for and promote and embrace#it’s gonna be okay
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sunfairiess · 1 month ago
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𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 || 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤
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pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader
tropes: 3rd person narration | sarah cameron’s pov | childhood best friends to lovers | brother’s best friend | best friend’s sister | fluff | soft boy jj
synopsis: sarah cameron meets her boyfriend’s sister for the first time, and understands what being soulmates means.
warnings: cursing, slightly mention of violence
wc: 2.9k
it’s my first time writing a character x reader (and actually writing a ff in years lmao) so i really hope this turned out well! also, i apologize for any typos or grammar errors but english is not my first language <3
song rec: about you - the 1975 ♡
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“c’mon guys, time to go back. it’s starting to freeze out here.” pope said, placing his fishing rod by his side before getting up and walking towards the helm of the boat, kiara following him to keep him some company. he was right: the temperature had started to drop, and honestly he didn’t even know why the pogues decided to go fishing at the end of november.
they were all there, except for the pogue princess as they liked to call her. she was john b’s younger sister, just by one year; and even though she was definitely a pogue down to her core, she actually almost looked like a kook: she was always composed, never drank too much, never even touched a cigarette or a joint, and she worked her ass off every afternoon at the country club to help john b with the bills and to afford a few of the things she liked.
she was smart, kind, the type of girl to lighten up a room with the sound of her laughter. she was also one of the reasons why the ‘no pogue-on-pogue macking‘ rule was made: everyone kind of had a thing for her, and jj maybank was the first in line.
“i seriously regret coming, i think i’m going into hypothermia.” jj said, shuddering a little bit. yes, it was cold, but it wasn’t that cold. jj just liked to be dramatic.
“gosh, you’re such a pussy.” john b laughed, smacking his best friend behind the head. they’ve know each other for more than ten years now. they weren’t friends anymore, they were brothers. they loved and cared for each other very deeply, even if they were acting like jerks most of the time.
as pope started the engine of the hms pogue, ready to go back to the château, john b took his sweatshirt off to pass it to sarah, his new girlfriend. she was a kook, but she was different. she didn’t care about how dissimilar their lives were, she loved spending time with the pogues because they were real. they were amazing friends, they were funny and smart, and the kind of people you could have a serious conversation with. they weren’t superficial like the kooks, and she loved them for this.
she felt a little tap on her leg, catching with her vision her boyfriend’s sweater. she gave john b a smile and slid the blue piece of clothing on. “so, i’m meeting your sister for the first time today, uh. big step.” sarah joked, slightly pushing his arm.
since the first moment they started dating, john b had always talked about how he wanted her to meet his sister. she was the most important person in his life, especially after his dad went missing at sea during a storm. he actually wanted sarah to meet her right away, but she asked him to wait a couple of months, just to see if they were solid about this relationship. “yup, and trust me you’re gonna love her. she’s like a little ball of sunshine, she wouldn’t even hurt a fly.” he said, smiling at the thought how of sweet his sister was with everyone.
“he’s right. i don’t think i’ve even ever seen her mad.” jj stated, shifting his seat from john b’s right to sarah’s left.
“she seems really nice, but i’m not worried about me liking her, because, by what you guys always say about her, i already do. i’m just worried she won’t like me, you know because of the whole pogue-kook thing.”
everyone bursted out laughing at sarah’s words, her face more confused than ever. “what? what did I say?” kiara left pope at the helm of the boat, and went to sit in front of her, crossing her legs together. “you don’t need to worry about that, she doesn’t give a shit about the rivalry. trust me, she looks like she walked out of a cruise brochure. the only thing she wants is to see her brother with someone who makes him happy, which you do, so she’s totally gonna be fine with it.” sarah smiled at her words, feeling a bit more relieved now.
even though pope wasn’t seating next to them, he could still perfectly hear their conversation and see sarah’s tensed body. that’s why he decided to lighten up a bit the discussion. “you know, one time she made jj dress up as a reindeer.” he said getting out a chuckle at the memory of jj dressed as one of santa claus’s reindeers.
kiara followed him with a loud laughter “oh my god it’s true, i almost forgot it.”
sarah gave them an amazed look. she was enjoying this too much to not say anything. “okay, this is actually the funniest thing i’ve ever heard. did you had a red nose like little rudolph, too?” she said with a smirk, turning her head towards jj’s.
“oh shut up, all of you. i only did it because she asked. besides, she looked so happy when i changed into that costume. i would honestly do it again.” jj let out an involontary smile at the thought of y/n. it was like this all the time: wether he wanted it or not, the only thought of y/n made him feel like he was the happiest man on earth, even if he wasn’t. she just had that effect on him.
“god, it’s sickening how whipped you are for my sister.” john b said, mimicking a gag reflex.
jj rolled his eyes at his words. sarah switching her gaze between the two boys sitting one to her left, and the other to her right. she then stopped to look at jj. “wait- you like y/n?”
“like? hell, he loves that girl. he’s been in love with her since he was six. the random hook ups he has? that’s all for show. he only does it to not draw suspicion, since the only girl he’d like to fuck— and sorry john b— is y/n.” pope said, fully exposing his friend’s feelings.
not that jj cared anyway. everyone knew how he felt about her, he didn’t even try to deny it anymore.
“and you’re completely fine with it?“ sarah asked john b, knowing how protective he was when it came to his sister.
“i wasn’t always. first time he told me he loved her? i punched him. not my finest moment but i was kinda mad.” john b replied, slightly chuckling, reminiscing his right fist hitting jj’s jawbone. “i mean, the day before he tells me he sees her as a little sister and then that he wants to sleep with her? hell nah, i wasn’t having that.”
“and what changed your mind?”
“because it’s jj. i know my best friend, and i know how much he cares for her. i knew he was never going to hurt her, i’m actually pretty sure he would die for her.”
sarah nodded along. the look on jj’s face confirming that what john b had just said was a hundred percent true. in that moment a thought crossed her mind, making her think about how what jj and y/n must’ve been something truly special.
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“bubba, we’re home.” john b shouted, as he opened the château’s door. the house was silent, except for a light melody coming from the bathroom and the sound of the shower running. “shower! be right there!” sarah heard y/n shout back, as every one of the pogues sat on the couch: her ending up between her boyfriend and kiara, next to who was seated pope; and a bit far away from them jj. she figured he left the space empty for y/n.
about ten minutes later, while the pogues were having a conversation about an upcoming party at the boneyard, a sixteen year old girl came out of the bathroom, wearing a pink sweater and long white sweatpants. white socks at her feet and long wet hair cascading down her back. she walked up to them, bending slightly to place a kiss on her brother’s cheek, and proceeding to do the same with all the others.
she then retraced her steps and stopped in front of sarah. “so you’re the reason why my brother stopped being a cranky old lady.” she smiled, offering her her right hand. “i’m y/n, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”
“sarah. it’s a pleasure to meet you too, john b’s always talking about you.” sarah replied, shaking her hand. y/n let out a small laugh, as she walked towards the end of the couch were jj was seated.
she plopped down next to him, tucking her legs under her bottom and leaning into him. he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer and gently leaving a kiss to the side of her head. “he’s always talking about you too. i swear the other night he woke me up around 3am just to tell me how amazing your date was. which, don’t get me wrong, i was very happy to hear about.”
“you literally throw a pillow in my face.” john b said.
“duh, because you woke me at 3 fucking a.m. i love you bird, but for gods sakes let a girl sleep.” she replied, making everyone laugh at her comment.
the conversation resumed pretty quickly, this time through with jj paying way less attention to it, more focused on the girl next to him.
the entire evening, between laughters and bottles of beers, sarah observed how jj and y/n were always caught up in their whole world. jj’s hands being constantly on her body, wether it was a arm around her shoulders or his hand on her leg. they were glued to each other, sometimes even whispering between them words only they could catch.
for the second time that day, sarah thought about how jj and y/n’s bond was special, going beyond simple friendship.
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it was almost two a.m. when kie and pope left, both returning to their respective houses to avoid their parents storming out on them. sarah instead was going to spend the night there, so since jj and john b were on the front porch smoking a joint, obviously a jj’s idea, she and y/n were the only two people moving around the living room, cleaning up the mess of empty beer bottles and pizza boxes.
the whole night she noticed how jj and y/n acted around each other, so since they were now alone, she just felt like she had to ask. “so what’s the deal between you and jj?”
“there’s no deal, we’re friends.” y/n said calmly.
“bullshit, i noticed the way you look at him and how he looks at you. that’s the look of love, sweetie.” sarah decided not to mention how jj actually felt about her. it wasn’t her place to say tell the truth.
“nah, jj would never go for someone like me. he only sees me as a little sister, besides i’m not even his type.” she replied, giving her a kind smile, even though she felt like a lump was stuck right down her throat. y/n always knew she wasn’t the kind of girl jj would want, the were total polar opposites, and truthfully she never even considered herself that much beautiful to have a chance with him.
“since when jj has a type? doesn’t he hits on every breathing human being?” sarah knew this probably wasn’t the right thing to say, but sometimes people needed a little push to blurt out their feelings. to her surprise though, y/n laughed, most likely because she knew how their friend had a habit of flirting with almost every girl he met. it didn’t matter if they were pogues or tourons, or hell even kooks sometimes. a pretty girl is a pretty girl, doesn’t matter where she comes from.
“kinda, but he always hooks up with victoria-secrets-models type of girls, if you get what i mean. and apart from that, we want different things. he doesn’t do relationships and i don’t do random hook ups. not to mention how the possibility of me and jj being together would probably give an aneurysm to my brother.”
“eh, i wouldn’t be so sure about that, ya know. either way though, you like him, don’t you?“ sarah said, remembering the conversation she and the other guys had on the boat.
busted. y/n stayed silent, sailing her lips in a thin, straight line. she then closed her eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready to spill everything out. she figured it was time to tell the truth anyway, since sarah clearly figured everything out.
“i met jj when i was four, we were in kindergarten and some older boys were picking on me. i was smaller and basically on the edge of tears, until i saw this blonde boy running towards me and putting himself between us. even if he was younger than them he still took my defense. after that he walked me home and told me he was a friend of john b’s. since that day, i don’t think i’ve ever liked someone that wasn’t him.“
she took a small pause, just to catch her breath. but she was so caught up in narrating the whole story, that she didn’t notice john b and jj leaning against the doorframe.
jj’s eyes almost bursting out of his face at her words, not expecting to hear her confession. john b, very aware of how his best friend was going to lose his shit any minute now, he places his finger against his mouth, mimicking him to shut up.
“as we grew older the roles kinda reversed and i started to look out for him: when he would come here bruised because of his father i would hug him and clean him up; even if younger than him i helped him study, you know just avoiding he would fail some subjects. at night, dad used to let him sleep next to me or john b because he didn’t want to be alone, thing that of course dad prohibited when i turned twelve. that didn’t stop him though: he would sneak out as soon as john b would fall asleep and come under the covers with me.”
she let out a laugh. “would sir. freud love this? probably yes, but it doesn’t matter. he deserves someone that cares for him, everyone does. and it’s not pity or mercy, i genuinely want to be there for him, because he deserves the best. yet, because of his father he’s convinced he’s worthless, but he’s not. gosh, he’s so funny and smart, which i know sounds weird but he is. he would die for his friends and cares so much for us. and i’m sure he could make it out of obx if only he wanted to. and he’s always so supportive and gen-“
she could’ve kept going on, but she suddenly noticed the two boys staring right up at her. jj’s eyes were watery, like he was going to cry any second now. he didn’t cry much, only when really fucked up things happened in his life, but for the first time he felt like crying not because he was sad and tired but because he was happy. because finally he could’ve had something great going on in his life. he could’ve had her.
without saying anything he launched himself into y/n’s arms, letting her stumble back due to the rushed impact between their bodies. he hold her tight, his arms around her waist and hers around his neck. his face placed in the space between her shoulder and her neck, breathing in the smell of the coconut soap she always used. he didn’t care about sarah and john b still being in the room, he wouldn’t even care if a freaking zebra walked in the house. she was the only thing that mattered. she was his whole universe.
“you shouldn’t eavesdrop, maybank.” she said with a smirk, putting a bit of distance between their bodies so she could look at him in the face, but still managing to play with the of hair at the nape of his neck.
“did you actually mean it? like for real?”
“every word, jay. you know me, i would never lie to you.”
jj maybank was impulsive. half of the time he never thought before acting, which pretty much resulted in him dealing with the aftermath of his stupid decisions. that’s why he didn’t think twice in grabbing y/n’s face with his hands, pressing his lips against hers.
at first he felt her stiffening, probably surprised by his gesture, and for a moment he really thought he had just screwed everything up. but then her hands went to his shirt, yanking him even closer if possible, and he sensed her relaxing, her lips moving against his.
after what seemed like hours, he pulled back, only because they both needed air. if it was up to him, he would’ve spent hours kissing her without getting a break.
“i’ve been loving you for a long time, princess.” she smiled, her cheeks almost hurting because of all the happiness she was feeling.
“well, you’re very lucky then, because i’ve been loving you for a long time too.”
“i can’t watch this, i think i’m gonna throw up.”
sarah nudged her elbow into her boyfriend stomach, giving him a look that said ‘shut the fuck up or i’m killing you’. john b raised his hands in the air, admitting defeat.
and, as they watched jj starting to kiss y/n again, sarah thought of how her own relationship was truly amazing. but in her opinion? what y/n and jj had was the true definition of soulmates.
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reidsworld · 4 months ago
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Beekeeping Age
Summary: Who knew having a crush on your best friends dad would turn out so good? Based on this request.
Pairing: Hugh Jackman x Fem!Reader
Category: Fluff
Content Warnings: Age Gap (25 and 55), Secret Relationship, not proofread
Mars speaks... Thank you so much for the request, I'm sorry it took me so long to respond! Also I'm pretty sure his daughter is like 19 but for the sake of this, she's like 25 lol.
Masterlist
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You and Ava had met in your first year of university. She was studying communications, and you were pursuing cinema, but your friendship clicked immediately. Movie nights turned into inside jokes, and your shared love for Formula 1 only solidified the bond. By the time you were finishing your degree, her house felt like a second home.
And her dad? Well, Hugh Jackman was always around, friendly and easy to talk to. Over time, your admiration for him began to grow into something more, though you’d never admit it out loud… until one day, a TikTok joke set things in motion.
“You know what we should do?” Ava said, sitting beside you on the living room floor, phone in hand.
“What?”
“This audio!” She played a popular audio on tiktok about beekeeping age.
You snorted, shaking your head. “Seriously? You wanna do that?”
“Come on, it’ll be hilarious,” she said, nudging you playfully. “Besides, half the world already has a crush on my dad.”
You rolled your eyes. “Fine.”
With a laugh, you both set up the shot. Ava played the part of the daughter, gushing over her dad’s wholesome bee-keeping hobby, while you delivered the punchline.
When you finished recording, Ava burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that was perfect.”
You laughed along, but you couldn’t help but feel the warmth creeping up your face. The joke hit a little too close to home. Ava raised an eyebrow, catching your expression.
“Wait…” she began, eyes twinkling with amusement. “You don’t actually—”
“What? No!” you quickly protested, but she kept laughing.
“Oh, come on. Everyone’s into him! I mean, he’s Hugh Jackman. It’s fine,” she teased.
You flushed but waved it off. She had no idea how much truth there was behind that joke.
A few days later, you found yourself chatting with Hugh after one of his early morning runs. You were both sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in comfortable silence.
“Ava tells me you’re a big F1 fan too.” Hugh said, glancing over with a grin.
“Yeah, I’ve been obsessed for years,” you said, grateful for the change in subject. “I actually studied cinematography partly because I loved the way F1 races are filmed.”
Hugh’s eyes lit up with interest. “No kidding? I didn’t realize that’s what got you into it.”
You nodded, feeling more at ease. “I’ve always loved how dynamic the sport is—the speed, the angles, the tension.”
“Well,” Hugh said, leaning back in his chair, “speaking of F1, Ryan just gave me tickets to the next race with Alpine. I was thinking of taking Ava and… maybe you, if you’re interested?”
Your eyes widened in excitement. “Wait, really? You’re inviting me to watch the race from the garage?”
He chuckled at your reaction. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you’d enjoy it.”
The race weekend was a dream come true. Standing in the Alpine garage, so close to the action, was something you’d always fantasized about. Hugh was at your side, just as enthusiastic, and you found yourself growing more comfortable around him. As the weekend progressed, your conversations flowed effortlessly—from F1 to films to life, and everything in between.
By the end of the trip, there was an undeniable connection between the two of you. You couldn’t help but feel that spark.
What started as innocent conversations turned into something more over time. Hugh would call or text you when he wasn’t busy, and the two of you found more excuses to spend time together. Coffee runs became long walks, and movie nights became opportunities to hang out alone. It wasn’t long before you realized your feelings for him were deeper than a crush.
The sneaking around was thrilling, but it also felt right. You and Hugh kept things under wraps for a while, not wanting to complicate your friendship with Ava.
One evening, you were relaxing on the couch, scrolling through TikTok when an edit of Hugh popped up on your feed. It was a compilation of his movie moments, and you couldn’t help but smile at how good he looked in each clip. As the video played, you whispered to yourself, “He really is amazing…”
You didn’t notice Hugh walk into the room until he chuckled from behind you. Startled, you looked up, realizing he’d seen the reflection in your glasses.
“Why watch videos when you have the real thing right here?” he teased with a playful smirk.
You blushed, embarrassed. “I—uh, I wasn’t—”
But he just laughed and sat down beside you. “It’s alright. Still nice to know I’ve got some fans out there.”
Eventually, you both knew you couldn’t keep the relationship a secret forever. The guilt was starting to weigh on you, and Ava had always been too important to lie to.
Sitting in the kitchen one afternoon, you glanced at Hugh nervously. “I think it’s time we tell Ava.”
He nodded, though he looked just as apprehensive. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”
You sat down with Ava, your heart pounding in your chest. “Ava, I need to talk to you about something important.”
She looked up from her phone, sensing the seriousness in your tone. “What’s going on?”
You exchanged a quick glance with Hugh before speaking. “I’ve been seeing someone… and it’s your dad.”
Her eyes widened, and the room fell silent. You could see the surprise and confusion on her face as she processed what you had said. The tension in the air was thick as you braced yourself for her reaction.
“This is… really weird,” she finally said, rubbing her forehead, “but I still love you guys. I guess I just wasn’t expecting that.” She looked between the two of you, a small smile forming. “Just treat him well, alright?”
Relief washed over you as the tension melted away. You hadn’t known what to expect, but Ava’s acceptance lifted a weight off your shoulders.
“I promise,” you said with a smile.
Mars speaks... Thank you for reading, any and all feedback is always appreciated 🫶
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hedwig221b · 7 months ago
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Not the same anon but your fav jealous and possessive Derek fics? I’m talking toxic possessive, Stiles always in sight and scented and being touched cuz Derek just CANNOT STOP 💞💞💞😌👆🏼🙂‍↕️
Hi, hello, here you go 🔥💖 (p.s. we need more obsessed borderline toxic Derek pleek)
As it Should Be by KuroKitty (HaleYes)
Stiles comes home from his 18th birthday party at the bowling alley to find a surprise waiting for him in his room.
Or, the one where Derek has no chill.
Assume I'm just An Asshole by mannersmakethmine
the pack always finding Stiles and Derek in coupley situations and assuming they're fake dating because there's a new threat in town, and Stiles and Derek because the shits that they are just go along with it.
Deflowered by astrugglingstoic
In which there is a prince, a knight, sequential sword fights, and an anecdote about pressed flower petals.
Feral Formalities by Aleandri
"There was silence as no one seemed to breath at the table. Derek had just gifted Stiles, an unmated Omega, with food. Right in front of another Alpha. Who he was on a date with. To discuss being heat partners…." In which, Stiles presents as Omega, and everyone wants a piece of the alpha-baby-making ass!
five times derek is protective of stiles and one time it's the other way around
Yeah, okay, so maybe Derek was a tad too protective of Stiles. So what? Sue him for worrying about his best friend, whom he totally does not have a raging crush on.
Okay, so maybe he does.
Shut up.
Hung The Moon by BurnItAllClean (nrnyx)
Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.
Might be a Predator by churkey
Derek's mom once told him they were predators. It never occurred to him to ask, 'If werewolves are predators, what do we hunt?'.
Oblivious Misadventures, and Other Such Tales by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)
Going to college was exciting and new, a chance for new friends and a fresh start, and the best part was, there was a supernatural fraternity on campus, meaning Scott finally had the freedom to be himself.
Then he met the resident human who came with a stalker alpha. What was the point of a supernatural fraternity if he still had to pretend to be human. And seriously, did Stiles ever fall asleep somewhere normal?
of gods & monsters by Dexterous_Sinistrous
“I’m not the best at conversation. I’ve been told I have no finesse for it.”
Stiles took a step closer to Derek, pushing the billowing silk out of the way. “And what would you say if you looked at me now?”
Derek looked up, startled for a moment when he realized he was now looking at Stiles’ unveiled face. He was silent for a beat, taking in Stiles’ features for the first time, convinced he would never see such beauty unveiled for him alone.
Oh my (let me look at those eyes) by Gorgeousgreymatter
A few months ago, he might’ve been able to solve this with some force—a little man-handling, a snarl, a glimpse of teeth. But he looks at Stiles’s broken face, knows he’s seen too much horror and blood and evil, the whole Big Bad Wolf routine is just going to fall flat. Because Derek looks at Stiles and he doesn’t carry himself like a teenager anymore. He carries himself like a soldier.
The Alpha and his Spark by sandyde03
Stiles is pregnant. Derek is perpetually horny and possessive. Stiles is confused. Not by Derek sexing him up. He loves that. It’s the fact that ever since he started to show that he was with pup everyone has been avoiding his eyes.
The Boy Is Mine, You Bonkers! by frownypup
It turns out that the words ‘a painfully smart and brave unclaimed human who is stupidly unutilized in Beacon Hill’s pack’ became the hottest gossip in werewolf underground. Yes, what the hell. Stiles’ existence has changed from a plankton to a rising sun.
Derek Hale has something he needs to say about it.
Three Little Words by Chloepioneer
“Oh god,” he whines, slapping a hand over his mouth to quell the vomit that boils the back of his throat. “Derek, is that the mailman?”
or Derek has a bad habit of killing people that take an interest in Stiles. Stiles might like it a little bit.
won't you torture someone else's sleep by redeyedwrath
I love you, Derek thinks, but he doesn’t say it, just watches Stiles throw his head back in laughter that isn’t for him and never will be. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Maybe if he thinks it hard enough, Stiles will hear him.
you are an obsession (i am your possession) by EvanesDust
Once Derek catches that tantalizing scent, he can’t stay away. Stiles. Derek’s completely enthralled by him. Obsessed. But all he can do is stand in the shadows, watching and waiting. Until he can make Stiles his, that is. And when that happens, Derek will never let him go.
Pack nights are not for getting laid by igotdamn
Stiles goes out clubbing, Derek doesn't like that very much.
Obsession by Rae666
Derek gets hit by a witch's curse and is confined to his loft as his uncle searches for a cure and Isaac stands guard. But as the curse grows worse and Derek's obsession with a certain pale skinned person becomes increasingly intense, how long can the team keep Derek and Stiles apart, especially when Stiles decides to take matters into his own hands?
Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles | bad friend Scott | unrequited love
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alcoholfreenayeon · 11 months ago
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WHAT IF you are at a bar or something and Sana and Miyeon come to entice you back to their place 😈😈 (sana and miyeon x male reader) ��🤭
A/N: It’s finally done bestie, hope you enjoy🤭!
I want that
CW: male!reader x Sana and Miyeon, NSFW, Smut, somewhat hardcore, hint of fluff.
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You were sitting alone at the booth, your glass empty and watching the tv, some soccer game going on but you weren’t really paying attention. Feeling someone gaze at you every now and then, it was the average day at the bar, not too crowded but you wouldn’t say it’s empty either. Your friends had left a few minutes earlier because they all had some reason or the other. Work, partners, whatever. It didn’t matter though, you liked your own company at times, it gave you some time to reflect on things.
As you contemplated between going home or having another drink, you were interrupted when someone asked if they could sit with you. Looking up at the person, you saw an absolute goddess, she was easily one of the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. You were too much in awe to reply but the girl just politely smiled and took your lack of objection as a yes and sat down.
“You don’t mind if my friend joins right?”, she asked sweetly.
“Uh, no”, you replied still awestruck when you turned to look at the friend and nearly fell out of your chair. Like the first girl was absolutely stunning but her friend, god you found her so irresistibly beautiful. Your mouth open while she sat down.
“I’m Sana and this is Miyeon”, the first girl introduced.
“h-hi, ahem, Hey, I’m Y/N”, you replied, losing your voice for a second.
The girls giggled and smiled prettily at you. They seemed really calm yet somewhat excited while you were losing composure like anything, you couldn’t even decide which one of them to look at. Somehow you managed to not seem like a complete idiot and weirdo and made some conversation.
Everything was going smoothly over the next few minutes, you were even managing to gain some confidence when felt something brush your foot and then saw Miyeon glance at you for a second, her cheeks slightly flushed before she looked away, smiling. You suddenly realized your own heart was beating quickly for some reason and cleared your throat trying to calm yourself down.
“Do you wanna come with us?”, Miyeon asked out of the blue, suppressing a smile. Sana giggled and gave her a nudge.
You felt dumbstruck, was this a joke? What did they mean by that because you totally thought you were interpreting that in a few different ways, all of which seemed greatly appealing but you couldn’t help but also think that maybe you didn’t understand what Miyeon asked. “Uhm…what?”, you choke, not knowing how to respond.
“I don’t live very far from here, the bar will close soon, maybe we can continue our…fun over there”, she said innocently batting her eyes at you while smiling so prettily.
Now, you’ve definitely heard of people getting killed like this but surely this was not the case, like seriously there’s no way these beautiful girls were some sort of deranged psychopaths after your kidneys or something. Your brain was practically shouting at you to proceed with caution but your heart whispered oh so convincingly that this was heading exactly where you never in your wildest dreams would have imagined. Unfortunately for your brain, your heart had you sold and any thoughts to take caution fell on deaf ears.
“Oh that sounds great, but I can’t drive since I’ve had a few drinks”, you manage, you could feel adrenaline pumping through your body as you thought of all the possibilities.
“That’s ok, we can just take a Uber, that’s okay with you right?”, Sana offered.
Sitting between the two girls in car, you wonder what you’d done to be so lucky. However, your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Sana put her hand on your knee before slowly starting to pull it upwards, onto your thighs, teasingly.
You freeze, not knowing how to react, understandably so and that’s when Sana leans in and whispers, “Does this excite you?”
You nearly whimpered and just as you are about to turn towards her, Miyeon’s voice stops you, “Unnie! You are so greedy, you can’t have all his attention.”
Before the words even sink in, you feel Miyeon grab your cheeks with both hands and she begins to make out with you sloppily.
This had to be heaven right? Like, surely life can’t get better than this, you think to yourself.
You begin to kiss her back and she seemed surprised for a moment before continuing but with more aggression. At the same time, Sana was practically in your pants and made some cheeky comment probably but you didn’t hear it, you were too engrossed with making out with Miyeon.
This continued for a few minutes before Miyeon pulled back, her cheeks slightly flushed and she was smiling mischievously while Sana was biting her lips and tying up her hair. You were trying to breath normally even though you felt out of breath but you didn’t wanna let the girls know that. Fortunately, before anything else could happen you had arrived at the destination and the three of you got out. You offered to pay but the girls insisted that they would.
“You can give us something else in return”, Sana said leaning towards you, clearing the last doubts of where this night was headed.
You were breathing hard now, as Sana noisily sucked on your tip while looking up at you. After a few moments, she stopped sucking, winked at you and then practically swallowed you all the way to your base. That took you by so much surprise you couldn’t do anything except move your hands on her head, inhaling sharply.
This continued for far less time than you would have liked but you had to make her stop or else she would end up finishing you there. You somehow manage to pull her off and Sana pouts a little but doesn’t complain. You pant and try to reset but before you can completely recover you feel another pair of lips taking in your cock. At this point your heart feels like it could explode. Miyeon struggles to take you as deep as Sana but makes up for it by somehow having more enthusiasm than her wanting to straight up suck the life out of you.
You end up making her stop after a few minutes too and take another few seconds to calm yourself down. It was getting harder and harder to that though, between feeling so desperate for your release and the fact that Miyeon had been kissing you for the past minute.
You become distracted when you see Sana lay on the bed on her stomach and look back at you seductively and you can’t help yourself and you get on top of her, she squeals excitedly when she feels you climb on her, arching her back. You were feeling feral now after being close to cumming twice and weren’t going to go easy at all.
Entering her took both of your breaths away, you sighed shakily, trying to compose yourself while Sana’s eyes stooped dreamily while she bit her lips. She didn’t let you off easily though and almost immediately started to push back against you forcing you to grab her shoulders and hold her down. She giggled at that but that turned into a gasp real quick when you began pounding her hard. She gripped the bedsheets tightly, panting as you filling her repeatedly. It only took you a few minutes of fucking her before you felt her clench and cum, letting out quiet moans as she came.
You smirked, she has been acting really cocky for a while now so it felt good to see her be so helpless now. Giving her only a few moments of rest before you begin pounding her again. You place your hand on her cheek, raising her head a little and to your satisfaction, Sana follows your lead and gently bites your fingers, whimpering as that only drives you to become rougher.
It was becoming harder and harder for you to focus on anything else but you felt Miyeon climb on the bed too, looking at you and Sana somewhat enviously. But you were not able to focus on that for too long. Especially when Sana was whining now as she was getting close to cumming once again which of course made her pussy tighter as she squeezed and clenched. Just when you thought you were about to reach the point of no return, Sana cums and you somehow manage to hold on. Both of you panting hard, a blissful smile on Sana’s face as she was slowly getting down from her high.
You turned to face Miyeon and found her pouting, “Did you really like her so much that you couldn’t even look at me?”
“Uhm….”, you tried to find your words but you had no defense.
“No”, she put a finger on your lips, “Don’t make excuses….if you really want to prove me wrong then do it through your actions”, she said while pulling you on top of her. “If you really mean it, then, Ruin. Me.”.
Those words turned on something inside of you, not that you needed encouragement to fuck her.
Pinning her hands either side of her head, you waste no time and enter her and it was honestly, quite possibly the best sensation you had ever felt. You begin to thrust immediately, ramming as deep as you can each thrust, stretching her slightly. You weren’t sure how long you would be able to last considering you were already quite on edge from Sana and the fact that Miyeon was staring at you so intently didn’t help at all.
At the same time, you felt her fists clench as each thrust was literally seeming to take her breath away. The two of you fucked for…..minutes?….an hour?….you didn’t even know, it felt like a decent amount of time but it wasn’t enough. Like you didn’t want this to ever end. You just wanted to keep fucking her for forever. At some point Miyeon broke through your grip and freed her hands, wrapping it around your shoulders, trying to pull you closer.
You were panting with each thrust now, trying not to cum, aware of how dangerously close you were to your release, ready to pull out any second.
That’s when Miyeon, grabbed your face, staring at you a moment too long and gave you a deep kiss, “Stay in me, don’t pull out, fill me up…please”, she whimpered practically while at the same time wrapping her legs around your waist tightly not giving you much of a choice really. Not that you had any problems with that. You began to pound her faster, both of you moving in perfect rhythm.
That’s when Miyeon cums, managing a strangled gasp as she shakes with pleasure, her convulsions send you over the edge as well and you practically explode inside her, wave after wave of your cum filling her up. As you both came together, it felt euphoric and eternal yet at the same time it also felt like it only lasted for a second. You both were panting heavily, looking at each other and you hesitated a little bit and leant in, kissing her passionately for a few seconds before you pull away. Miyeon blushes a little when you pull away, slowly letting go of you, almost like she wanted to hold on for a bit more.
Sana scoots over, “oh, you both seemed to enjoy it a lot more, Y/N was she really that much better than me?, she said smiling mischievously.
You freeze, glancing at Miyeon who looked like she would slap you if you gave the wrong answer. You fumbled over your words without saying any real answer which caused both girls to giggle which made you realize they were just teasing.
“Well, it’s quite late and us girls need our sleep”, Sana said suddenly, signaling that was time for you to leave. “Especially, after you tired us out so much”, Miyeon added with a giggle.
You were handed your clothes by Miyeon, a bit puzzled because you were pretty sure that’s not where you had left them but maybe you just were lost in your excitement and forgot. Regardless, you bid them goodbye and went on your way.
As you waited at the bus stop, you reflected on everything that just happened. For some reason, your thoughts were lingering back to Miyeon repeatedly. You lie to yourself about why that is, knowing full well the truth but you just felt too proud at the moment to admit it, even if it was to yourself. Luckily for you, the bus approached before you truly lost in your thoughts and feelings.
As you sat, you couldn’t help but feel something squish in your pocket. You search to find a small piece of paper scrunched up, curious, you unscramble it and find a series of numbers. No, a number, a phone number below which was written ‘M’ with a heart next to it. Looking out of the window, you smile to yourself, excited, your heart fluttering, perhaps you are going to have to revisit your feelings sooner than you thought…..
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agi-ppangx · 1 year ago
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to feel wanted (bang chan x gn!reader)
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hurt/comfort i think???, very self indulgent, channie is here to stay an: this is the aftermath of me procrastinating on uni stuff, have fun reading it😽
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“why would you say that?”
you blinked a few times, tilting your head to the side. did you say something wrong? 
“what do you mean?” you mumbled, taking a sip of your coffee. you grimaced, feeling it taste more bitter than usual. 
“you said we’re not close,” chan elaborated and you nodded. you did say that, yes, but what was so wrong about it? “i don’t wanna make it about myself, but it hurts, y’know?” he added, making you freeze. you looked up at him with a bewildered face and it almost made chan apologise, but he couldn’t drop the topic now, not when he finally worked up the courage to broach it with you. 
“i don’t think i understand,” you said with a forced smile, huffing gently to lighten the mood around you two. you hoped he’d just say “yeah, forget it”, but it seemed to seriously bother him as he searched for the best way to voice his concerns. 
“i know you don’t have a lot of close friends,” chan started hesitantly, not sure if it won’t hurt you. you frowned but nodded nonetheless, aware of your nonexistent social life. “but saying that we aren’t close? c’mon,” he sighed. you dropped your head, stirring the straw in your coffee a few times. your cheeks burned and your breathing became erratic. you took another sip of your bitter drink. 
“it’s just… easier for me,” you started quietly, not daring to look him in the eyes. you reached out for a napkin from the dispenser, desperately trying to busy your hands with something, anything just to not focus entirely on the conversation you never wanted to have in the first place. “i always do this, it’s like some kind of… defence mechanism or something. at least that’s what i tell myself.” chan glimpsed at you with a concerned look on his face, straightening his posture. 
“so… what does it mean exactly?” he asked, observing as you folded and unfolded the napkin. you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the vulnerability.
“throughout my life i learned that people don’t really like me. they tend to think i’m rude or weird and they never want to talk to me after they meet me,” you shrugged your shoulders. “i’ve always been the kind to get attached really quickly, so it hurt me whenever they left. so now i just kind of… gaslight myself into thinking that people don’t care about me and that i’m not close to anybody.” chan observed you intently as you spoke almost nonchalantly about your struggles. he stayed silent as you put the napkin away and just stared into the table. 
“you know i’d never leave you, right…?” he whispered, not exactly sure how he should feel. he was hurt, of course, because for the past few months you two had known each other he considered you one of the closest people in his life. you made him happier, like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day or a cup of warm tea on a winter evening. why couldn’t you see how important you were to him?
you finally made eye contact with him, looking for any type of sarcasm in his sight, but instead you were met with softness, gentleness, love. 
you nodded silently, blinking rapidly as you felt the tears sting at the corners of your eyes. you couldn’t open up fully just yet, but you wanted to believe him. you wanted to know what it’s like when someone genuinely cares about you and is willing to keep up with your odd traits and strange personality.
you wanted to feel wanted. 
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taglist !
@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes @minhosbitterriver @astraystayyh
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lvrgirlrey · 4 months ago
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𝐹𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝐵𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒻𝒾𝓉𝓈 ⋆⁺₊❅.
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𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: your friends-with-benefits, chuuya nakahara, is jealous after he overheard you talking about a recent hookup you had with a man that wasn’t him. he decides to teach you who’s better.
𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: MDNI ~1.7k, afab gn!reader x hard dom!chuuya, unprotected intimacy (remember guys, wrap it before you tap it!), p in v, oral (m receiving), spanking, hair pulling, fingering, belt as handcuffs, basically the usual nsfw stuff.
𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: hi guys!!! yes it has been a whole week since i posted and i am so so so sorry :,c i’m starting community college now and i’ve been busy getting my classes in order but now im confident that i have some time to post now :D maybe ill try for 2-3 a week but i procrastinate a lot so idk but we’ll see! hope you guys enjoy this bc i don’t think it’s the best xp
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it had been a while since you started working for the port mafia. you have finally started getting comfortable with everyone, a little too comfortable with a certain someone.
you had begun hooking up with chuuya nakahara, the handsome executive who took a liking to you since you first joined, for a few months now and everything seemed to be going smoothly, until yesterday afternoon.
the topic of hookups had come up in conversation with the other port mafia members. you told them about a recent hookup with a guy you met at a bar- this caught chuuya’s attention. you felt his gaze from across the room, staring you down like a lion stalking its prey as you continued to go on about the guy from the bar.
the other members could feel the tension rising as you went on, yet you were completely unaware of chuuya’s fueling anger bubbling up inside him.
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later that day, you had been called to chuuya’s office for reasons unknown. you couldn’t think of a reason he’d be calling you to meet with him; he knows better than to attempt to sleep with you while at work.
head reeling with thoughts of the worst possible outcomes, you hurriedly made your way to his office.
opening the door, you could smell the faint aroma of wine. knowing him, he was probably already drunk from only a glass. “drinking already? and without me? how cruel of you, chuu.” you knew how much he hated getting called that.
he only responded with a heavy sigh, glancing at you without a word. “you okay? you left like an hour ago and i hadn’t seen or heard of you until now.” you were worried, he never like this unless something really pissed him off. walking behind his chair, you attempted to wrap your arms around his neck but he stood up and pushed you away.
“you seriously don’t know what you did?” he huffed, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. what had you done? you couldn’t recall a single thing this week, let alone today, that you had done to upset him like this.
“what are you talking about? i don’t think i’ve done anything.” you sighed, sitting in his seat to feel his warmth. “you don’t remember? you were talking about fucking another guy while i was right there!” he startled you, you’ve never heard his voice like this, bitter and filled with jealousy.
“why do you care about that anyway? it was a one-night stand and i barely remember the guy’s name. besides, you and i aren’t dating. the only ‘coupley’ thing we do is hook up.” you were getting irritated, why does he care if you hook up with other guys or not?
“because clearly you don’t care about me enough to not go ‘round fucking any other assholes besides me!” this had you reeling in anger. he was basically accusing you of being a slut who opens her legs to anything with a dick. “excuse me? if you had a problem with me sleeping with other guys, you should’ve told me and i would’ve stopped! plus, you were the one who said you just wanted to be fuck-buddies
“well i regret saying that because you’re right, i do have a problem with you sleeping with other guys.” he turned so you wouldn’t see his face, pink from embarrassment. you couldn’t help but laugh. the chuuya nakahara, one of the most feared men in yokohama, is standing in front of you, embarrassed because he let his true feelings out.
“what’s so funny?” his voice had cracked, only causing you to laugh even harder at the sight of him. “why are you so mad? we could become exclusive if you really wanted to.” wiping the tears from your eyes, your stood up from his chair and made your way over to him. you embraced him in a gentle hug. “i can be all yours if you wanted me to.” you whispered into his ear, feeling him tremble beneath your hot breath.
“maybe there’s a way you could make this up to me.” he smirked while placing gentle kisses on your neck. before you could respond, he pulled your head back into an aggressive kiss, feeling the anger pour out of him from it. you tasted the sweet flavor of wine on his soft lips.
“chuu- chuuya? not here, i don’t want to get caught and get in trouble with mori.” you panted as he released you from the kiss. “i don’t believe he would care. the other members have done worse so this would be the least of his worries.” he looked at you with the lust of a thousand animals, there was no way you would convince him to leave and go to his apartment.
suddenly, his lips were on yours again. he pushed you up against the nearest wall, trying to get as close as possible. he wasted no time pulling down your skirt and was surprised to see you had already soaked through your cotton panties.
“so wet for me already, doll?” he teased, sticking a hand down your fluid soaked underwear to feel the wetness for himself. a loud moan escaped your mouth before he used his hand to cover it completely, “you said you didn’t want to get caught, didn’t you? so stay quiet for me unless you want mori hearing you scream my name.” he fully removed your panties before continuing to play with your warmth. he drew circles around your clit, causing you to almost release a deep moan that would’ve been heard around the whole office.
just as quickly as he started, he stopped abruptly, causing you to try and cling to him for more pleasure. he slowly went up and down your folds, making it feel like torture. instantly, he stuck a finger inside you, curling it in such a way that it perfectly hit the right spot. you try not to scream at the sudden pleasure but you couldn’t help but allow some soft moans to escape your mouth.
he commanded you to get on your knees and you do so. as you helped him take off his pants, he uses his belt as makeshift handcuffs. “chuuya, what are you doing?” you were shocked at his aggressiveness. “making sure you don’t leave. i gotta make sure you’re satisfied enough after this so you won’t go and fuck other guys.” he smirked as you looked up at him, annoyance visibly on your face.
you could feel his hard length from underneath his boxers, his impressive size still shocks you even after seeing it dozens of times. you curled your fingers around his waistband, his rock hard cock hitting your cheek.
chuuya laughed at the sight. he could finish just by looking at you like this. his cock leaked of pre cum. a deep, guttural moan left his mouth after you traced your tongue up from the base to the tip. “f-fuck baby. don’t tease me, just hurry up and take it.” those were the last words you heard before he forced your mouth over his dick and down to the base, your nose touching his abdomen.
choking and moaning from the sudden lack of air, you wrapped your lips around his length while he forced your head up and down. “damn, you feel s-so good.” he whispered softly as tears began to well up in your eyes.
you couldn’t help but choke on his size. he was already close, you could tell. but before he could finish, he pulled your mouth off of himself and pulled you up by your arm. he dragged you over to his desk and bent you over it, slapping your ass in the process.
he nearly ripped off your panties with how aggressive he was being, like an absolute wild animal. you could feel him moving himself up and down your slit, tearing you before positioning himself against your hole.
“you ready? i’m not gonna hold back.” even if you couldn’t see him, you knew he had a cheeky smirk on his face as he said that. “that’s hard to believe. i don’t think you have it in you to not hold back on me.” his smirk was replaced with annoyance. as punishment, he pushed into with great force. the sudden pain and pleasure made you scream as chuuya gripped you hips with both hands and forced them down on his cock.
he forcefully continued to push his length into your hole. he was hitting your sweet spot every time, causing you to quickly inch towards an orgasm. he let go of your hips with one hand and violently pulled at a fistful of your hair.
you arched your back to his chest as he leaned over you, marking your neck and shoulders with sloppy hickeys. you were reaching your climax. “chuu- mmh! chuuya i’m c-close!” the pleasure was too much, you were going to cum all over chuuya’s cock.
“that’s right, baby. cum a-all over me.” he whispered into your ear, letting go of your hair to circle around your clit. you couldn’t take it anymore.
“cumming! i’m cumming!” the tight know in your stomach broke and before you knew it, your fluids came out and covered chuuya’s dick. you rode out your high as his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier as his climax came. you could feel his hot load coating your walls in white.
he slowly pulled out of you, his cock covered in his cum and your fluids. “told you i wouldn’t hold back.” he continued to tease as he removed his belt from your wrists. you tried to stand to get your skirt back but your legs were numb and you collapsed.
“relax doll, i’ll get it for you.” he placed you on his chair as he went over to grab your skit as you put on your soaked panties. “if you hadn’t been so rough i would’ve been able to walk.” you rolled your eyes at him.
“well i had to teach you a lesson for fucking another guy.” you scoffed at that while he helped you get dressed so no one at the office would suspect anything. “well i now know that no one is better than you, chuu.” you proclaimed, knowing he would get annoyed at his nickname. “don’t call me that, unless you want me to teach you another lesson.”
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again, not my best work but hope you guys all thoroughly enjoyed it either way! love u guys lots ^3^
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misspelledwordswizard · 1 month ago
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Can I request a Time content?
The Chaín except Time asking Reader his type or things she likes of a man. She mention some qualities but she specify "Older Man".
Time all blushing because he is in love with reader and Reader likes him too.
Time Content, yeay! I loved writing this asdfkqaj I hope you like it! <3
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I like older men
— Oh, come on, you have to have a type! – Warriors exclaimed, referring to me. He’s been pestering me for a few minutes to tell me what type of man I’m attracted to. 
— I don’t think I have an exact type. – I kept giving the same answer. My taste can be quite flexible, I’d say. 
We were all around the campfire, talking, sharing stories, after the meal. The conversation was going smoothly until they got to the subject of relationships, which Sky dominated, by the way. The Captain has some experience in short-term relationships, so to speak, some of the others seem to have traumas, while the rest simply have never had anything with anyone until now, totally fair.
But, apparently, my romantic life became the central point of the entire conversation after I said I was single, and had never been seriously involved with anyone before. From what I understand, this information is somewhat shocking to them. 
— But not even some things you find attractive in men? – Wild suggested, he wasn’t helping me either. 
Unconsciously, my thoughts took me to the leader of the group, who was the only one who wasn’t bothering me with the subject. I can’t tell if it was because he was not interested in the subject or simply out of respect for my dignity. 
He didn’t even seem to be paying attention, to tell the truth. Leaning so calmly against a tree, with both eyes closed, I couldn’t even tell if he was awake. Avoiding looking at him and ending up generating comments among the heroes, I sighed and accepted my fate. Okay, I just need to wind them up. 
— Hm, let me think. – I said, raising expectations in the boys around me. – I guess we can say I like tall men. – Out of the corner of my eye, I had the impression of seeing Four wilt in his place, did he feel offended? – And strong ones too, something more natural... – I could feel my cheeks blushing. I wouldn’t mind talking about it at a sleepover with my friends, but with the men I’ve been living with for the past few months? What a nightmare. 
They remained silent, indicating that they expected more. Damn, damn gossips. 
— Well, I find light eyes attractive, I would say. And tattoos... Oh, and men who wear black, especially those tight, high-necked shirts. – Okay, I think I’m going too far. My cheeks looked like bell peppers. Oh, right, there’s one last very important one. – And, mainly, older men. 
I concluded, unable to bear all this pressure of stares while I talk about something so personal. I closed my eyes, expecting their provocative comments or something like that, but I was surprised to notice the silence that followed. Was that really that shocking? 
I opened my eyes to see their reactions, and, to my surprise, they weren’t looking at me. All eight boys looked with shock, surprise or curiosity in Time’s direction. Confused, I turned to look at him too, and, after some time processing the information, I understood the reason for their exaggerated reactions, feeling my face even hotter than before.  Time kept his eyes closed. His face, so relaxed before, was now tense, his lips pressed together in a line and his good eye closed a little tighter. What was surprising, in fact, was how rosy his cheeks were. 
In all my life, or rather, since I met him, I never thought I would see the hero of time blush. Because of me. Damn, am I not going crazy?  Well, I am definitely to blame for this, without realizing it, I ended up almost describing him in this silly joke. 
Oh man, I want to bury my face in a hole, I couldn’t have made it more obvious! Great, now I will have to deal with the provocations of this bunch of idiots. I looked away, no longer having the courage to look at him, and just accepted my cruel fate. 
— Look... – Warriors began, and I was already mentally preparing myself for the humiliation that was to come. – ... it seems that we have finally discovered the Old Man’s type as well. 
I turned my head abruptly to look at him, in time to see his eye widen and his mouth open in surprise and indignation, but nothing came out of his mouth. With his face even redder, he sighed and stood up, leaving the group in search of a moment of peace. 
These brats are still going to kill Time with these provocations, and in addition, they are going to kill me too. 
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itsnotbird · 22 days ago
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Ghosting
Post!Hydra Dark! Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
‘I’ve been ghosting…I’ve been ghosting along, ghost in your house, ghost in your arms.’
Summary: Maybe his tendencies are odd, but maybe the two of you are just meant to be? He doesn’t want to be the ghost that looms around, but what choice does he have?
Warnings: Stalking, dark themes, 18+ content, not intended for minors! Reader gets harassed in the beginning, Bucky is…he’s a little crazy but he means well. Isn’t he so dreamy? Trust the process here.
A/n: I had this idea and I’m going to poorly execute it! Not cannon whatsoever, post Hydra/Winter soldier Bucky but…old habits die hard.
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“You want to come back to my place?”
You scrunched your nose. “That’s um…that’s a kind offer, Connor, but I’m kinda tired.” You politely say as you leave the restaurant.
It’s a bold offer for him to make after a first date- a lousy first date. He made you pay half the bill, made subtle comments about your choice of outfit, talked about himself the entire time. Now, he has the audacity to ask for a lousy hook up.
He looks at you with a confused smile. “No? Oh…okay.”
“I don’t know if you were…expecting something but…I just don’t think we’re the best match.” You say honestly.
He scoffs like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Okay, wow, um…I was trying to be nice because you’re clearly desperate-”
“Desperate?” You choke out a dry laugh.
“-but hey, go ahead and be a tease, that’s fine.”
“What?” You squint, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I’m a little confused.”
“Yeah, it probably doesn’t take much.” He says with a serious look.
“Wow, what a wasted night.” You say to yourself.
“Yeah tell me about it, you sat there going on and on about your parents and I’m not even going to get head? Hey, newsflash! Your parents are probably just disappointed they have a screw up of a daughter. Seriously, you’re so fucking boring.”
You huff in disbelief, not able to wrap your head around how mean his words are.
“I’m gonna go.” You say. “I hope you can find a decent personality.”
As you turn, walking back in the direction of your apartment, he shouts a few choice words in your direction. You only wrap your coat around you tighter.
Though you hate it, tears burn your eyes. Silently crying in the dark, you place a call to your best friend.
“Hey! How was the date?” She asks in a cheery tone.
Immediately you sniffle. “Pretty bad.”
Your soft sobs echo off of brick walls, all the way up to Bucky sitting on the roof of the building you pass. The sound is enticing, causing him to look over the edge at your figure.
Somehow, he knows that he should just stay where he is, it’s really something he doesn’t need to get involved with.
But…he finds himself hopping over to the next roof, following you. It’s like he’s enticed to do it. Part of him - the small part that’s still sane- recognizes how crazy and creepy he’s being.
The much larger part of him doesn’t give a fuck.
Rooftop to rooftop, he’s like your shadow, listening to your conversation, watching the surroundings around you to make sure you don’t get hurt. He aches for you, utterly displeased that you are upset. Which is a crazy idea because he knows nothing about you.
Well, not for long.
See, it’s like the universe is on his side. Because though he’s not trying to keep track of you, you’re constantly crossing his path. Over the next week, he quickly learns your schedule. He learns that you leave your apartment building at 8am to go to work at the overpriced coffee shop down the street, you usually get off at 3pm. Then your night plans alternate, one night you go to a college class, the other you go to a friend’s house where you don’t come back until very late.
You grocery shop at a Whole Foods, you don’t shop for yourself, you like music, you play the guitar. He watches you open your apartment window and sit on the sill, smoking a cigarette once in a while and that’s how he knows you’re stressed.
At first, he ran into you purely by chance.
But it became almost too easy to pin you down when you lived the same, boring life.
On the coming Saturday, you go on another date. He doesn’t know this until you and the man come into the bar he’s in.
You look gorgeous, like always. You seemed to have this classic elegance about you, and this guy…well, he’s wearing brown shoes and black trousers so there’s no hope.
He tries not to stare, but you laugh so beautifully and your smile is sparkling, then he’s angry because this fool is making you laugh and smile.
You have much hope for this guy, Noah is his name. He’s sweet, he’s funny, he…is so insanely boring.
But you push past it and claim that everyone is a little off on first dates. He pays for your drinks and offers to call you a cab home. What you don’t expect is for the way he grips you sharply in the alleyway of the bar, kissing you heatedly. You awkwardly laugh and try to tell him this wasn’t really your style, but he’s rather persistent.
You feel stupid. Did you give him the wrong signs? He was so good the entire night and this is how it has to end?
“Noah, wait. Wait, stop.” You say, trying push his hands off of you.
“You’re really gorgeous.” He huffs, pulling the strap of your dress down so he can suck on your shoulder.
“I- thank you but really, I don’t want you to do this.” You struggle again, only to be pushed back harder against the brick. Your head hits it and pain blooms in your skull.
“No, it’s okay.” He claims, holding your hands down.
You begin to panic, frozen in fear as you start begging him to let you go.
“Hey.” A voice suddenly says.
You look over at the man who has a very scary look in his eye.
“I think the lady wants you to stop.” He says.
Noah rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”
Bucky looks at your quivering lip and determines that he can’t do that.
So he sighs, then calmly comes to grip Noah’s shoulder and rips him away from you. He stumbles back, aiming to throw a punch before Bucky stops his fist and punches him in the face, hard enough that he falls to the ground.
You gasp, fixing yourself and quickly wiping your face. The stranger turns to you, eyes searching you.
“Are you hurt?” Bucky asks.
“No. Thank you.”
He nods, then motions to the street. “I’ll get you a cab home.”
You aren’t completely sure what to do, it was all so strange. Looking back to Noah on the ground, you quickly get away from him, trusting this stranger more than anything now.
He does exactly what he says and hails you a cab, watches you get in and shuts the door behind you.
There are no other words spoken.
You drive away and that’s where it’s left.
Or so you think.
In all actuality, that little interaction has been fueling his growing obsession. He’s paying closer attention, in every shadow, you could find him there. But you never do.
From the fire escape, he sometimes- lots of times- he sits when he can’t sleep. He sits on the ledge, concealed in darkness, and silently observes you. Bucky determines that you were strategically placed in his life, you had to be.
The universe was never on his side, so why was he being rewarded now? If he didn’t understand it, it’s because his brain is still trying to connect wires back together. Oh but it does make sense, you’re this shining star, you’re the lark bird with a broken wing and who is he? He’s the man to help.
He recognizes the look in your eye, the gaze that searches for salvation in every person, he knows desperation because it’s been under his mask for years. He could be your savior.
He is.
No, no he won’t force anything. You’ll have to ask, admit that you strive for something other than the cards you have been dealt. But you couldn’t do that if you keep ignoring your ghost.
He’ll pull the sheet off of his head, that’s what he’ll do. He’ll strategically plan the way your paths will cross again, like any good soldier does, and it’s going to open that shut door. He won’t have to look for an open window anymore, physically or metaphorically.
Saturday night. You’re dressed up. You leave your flat in heels and a backless dress. You should really put on a coat, that shall around your shoulders won’t keep the chilly air away.
He watches from the adjacent roof top, he makes sure you get in your cab alright.
He knows you’re going to your best friend’s birthday night out at the city’s newest jazz club, a very elegant place, he’s heard you discussing it with her for weeks.
That’s where he’ll be.
Dressed the part in a suit he’s lifted from the dry cleaners, he’ll lurk around the bar, hide within the crowd, stay far away from the dance floor.
Nostalgia seems to make him feel a little sick, the music, the theme, everything seems to be reconnecting him to the boy he was before.
James Buchanan Barnes. That’s who he needs to be now. Charming and all smiles and smooth talking, he could do, can’t he?
Irritation bites at his nerves when opportunity doesn’t present itself for a while. You seem glued to your star-of-the-show best friend. He admires your loyalty, your blind adoration for a woman who tends to brush you off often for much more interesting people.
How dare she? If you were stitched to his side, he’d never make you feel pushed out, he’d give you his attention, he’d make sure you knew you were the most important thing in the room.
He’s bitter now.
He needs a drink. The idea of it soothes more than the alcohol does, given the fact he could drink three entire bottles before feeling something. That’s a painful disadvantage of the serum in his blood, he couldn’t even effortlessly get drunk to forget his troubles.
At the bar, he orders whiskey neat and pushes his hair back in a huff.
“Hi, could I get another glass of champagne?”
There it was, that voice that’s better than every song being played here.
You stand beside him, smiling at the bartender.
“Actually.” You change your mind. “A Martini, please. No- just a double Tito’s with three olives. Please.”
The barman chuckles at your request and begins to make it for you.
You’re here, all elegant in your green silk dress that compliments your eyes, smelling like your nice perfume, the one you spray on your wrists and behind your ear. Suddenly, Bucky is at a loss of words.
He’s waited around all night and you’re finally here.
You sigh in dissatisfaction, it’s a noise he never ever wants to hear from you ever again.
“Thank you.” You thank the barman again as he slides your drink to you.
Bucky watches you take a sip, he envies the martini glass for the way your lips wrap around the rim. Your eyes shut as you taste the alcohol, dark lashes flutter together and you look just like a doll.
“Rough night?” He questions.
You face him, an excuse on your lips but you pause when you recognize him.
“No, no my evening has been fine. I’m sorry, you look so familiar. Have we met?”
He thinks it’s cute the way you pretend you don’t remember him.
“Briefly, I believe. Outside of the-”
“Outside that bar. Right. You…helped me.” You state, obviously feeling a little embarrassed even though he isn’t sure why you would be.
“That guy was a dick, don’t worry about it.” He says, drawing your eyes back to him.
“Thank you…most people would’ve just kept walking.” You say, genuine tone, vulnerable face.
“Most people suck.”
You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s known. He smiles, watching you tuck away a strand of hair that has fallen from your updo.
You introduce yourself now, giving him your name to hold, not like a secret.
“I’m James.” He says.
“James.”
His name has belonged on your lips for over a hundred years.
“I like that name.” You determine, sipping on your drink. “What brings you here tonight, James?”
He’s quick to think on his feet.
“A failed double date.”
You give him a questioning look.
“How was it failed? She wasn’t a damsel in distress?” You joke, and he smiles at your smile.
“No, she left with another man. Honestly, it’s fine, I wasn’t interested in her.” He lies, adoring the pout you gain on his behalf.
“That’s a shame, you seem like great company, James.”
He hasn’t been told that for as long as he can remember, well, he can’t remember much, actually. But he does know that he loves getting to know you face to face, not just learning from a distance. There would never be a distance again, he knows this, feels it in the way you accidentally touch his arm as you laugh in conversation.
You feel as if you’ve known him for ages, you haven’t but he sure knows you.
“Why look so drab if you’re celebrating your best friend’s birthday?” He asks, watching you toy with your empty glass before the bartender takes it away.
A sigh leaves your perfect lips. “I’m happy, of course I am…I just, well, sometimes I get looked over. It’s fine, it’s not my night, it’s hers…but somehow it happens very often when her and I go out. I suppose it’s just easy for people to forget I’m around, especially her when she has so many people’s attention.”
He shakes his head, you might as well have confessed to a crime. Those words shouldn’t have left your mouth.
“You’re not easy to forget.” Bucky tells you, his clear, blue, eyes heavy in yours. “In my opinion, you’re much more memorable and-and admirable than her.”
He hasn’t spoken this much in forever, he’s surprised he remembers words as big.
You blush at his compliment. “Really?”
“Really.” He coos. “Girls like her are a dime a dozen, but not you. I could tell from the moment I saw you, you have something far more interesting than her.”
You selfishly let his words flatter you for a moment.
“She’s my best friend since high school, she’s really been there for me so for that I am grateful but…well, she has a tendency to make me a sidekick. I don’t like being Robin.” You laugh.
Bucky pretends he knows who you’re talking about.
“You deserve to be the hero.” He chimes.
You giggle. “I am no Captain America.”
That has him at a loss for words.
You don’t notice though. You look over to the stage, the band plays a slow throwback, a smooth jazz song.
The alcohol bas mostly calmed your nerves, and the way your best friend has yet to notice your absence, has you making an offer you’d never make.
“Are you a fan of Frank Sinatra, James?” You ask.
“Never heard of him.” He jokes, definitely finding it far more amusing than you do.
“Do you dance?” You question now, boldly taking his hand.
You haven’t figured out the deal with the gloves he wears yet, but you don’t ask in fear you’ll offend him.
And though he said he’d stay far from the dance floor, he’s blindly guiding you to the space where the others sway, it’s like he’s enchanted by the low lighting on your skin, or the way you’re so willing to let him in. He’s not even sure he remembers how to dance, but he falls right into the rhythm like it’s always been with him.
Gentle, he’s oh so gentle with you, you have no clue how much he’s thinking about the touch he’s giving you.
It’s you who gets flirty, hand sliding over his shoulder to gently hold the back of his neck, you gently press into his rather broad frame.
You can see the way your best friend’s eyes finally find you, and she’s immediately curious.
You’re immediately frightened.
She’s going to want him, she’s always had the same taste as you.
You let out a shaky breath and look away.
“What’s wrong?” He immediately asks in a protective tone as he feels you go rigid in his hands. His defense is up, he looks around the room for a threat.
“Nothing, sorry. I’m sorry, I’m okay.” You let out a soft laugh, laying your head on his chest.
The action immediately distracts him.
Here you were, falling right into him like you were meant to, his perfect girl.
He tucks that loose hair behind your ear, he lets his fingers gently trace down your spine until he comes back to hold your waist.
“Your heart’s beating pretty fast.” He says close to you, not thinking about the possibility of you asking just how he could tell.
“I’m trying not to step on your shoes.” Is all you say with a fleeting giggle.
As the song closes, you’re in some sort of dream land. It’s not the alcohol, even if it was a strong drink, it’s all him.
That elated feeling continues as he pulls you away from the crowd, and it dissipates right when your best friend finds you.
“There you are!” She smiles at you. “I see you’ve made a friend.”
You should just go home.
“This is James.” You say, watching them greet each other.
“It’s my birthday, James.” She tells him in her tipsy tone.
He looks at her birthday sash and nods. “I can see that. Happy birthday.”
“Thank you. You can give me a gift later if you want.”
You should really just go home and put on your sweats and a movie.
But then you feel his hand on the small of your back.
“We’re actually going for a stroll.” He says, because what else is he to say? That your friend’s actions aren’t attractive? How she comes on far too strong in the worst way? Perhaps he’s only in this mindset because he can see the way your face fell when she posed a threat.
She’s no threat, sweet girl. No one is a threat to you, ever, not now that I’m here.
He says it with his eyes as you look up at him in question. The gentle nod he offers has you easing. A stroll sounds nice.
You find yourself agreeing? How is it so easy to agree and tell your friend good night? It’s as easy as your hand around his- large- bicep as the two of you walk the glimmering night streets of the city.
He makes you feel so…secure. Maybe this is how girls get kidnapped and turn up dead in alleyways, but you feel the need to trust him with your life.
You feel the need to grow obsessive over every word and touch he gives you.
Maybe that’s how you end up showing him your apartment. He acts like he’s never seen it before.
And he has not one intention on things going further- well, maybe just one. But he’s a perfect gentleman, drinking the coffee you make him, complimenting your music collection, asking about the instrument in the corner.
It’s all you who gets closer.
And as your lips touch, you can’t help but think this is insane.
You should pull away, but then he grips your waist and deepens the kiss and you completely lose your mind.
He’s a stranger in your home, on your lips.
But is he really?
“I’m sorry.” You immediately say when he pulls back and turns his head away. “I-I don’t do this, a lot of girls say that, but I really don’t do this.”
He knows you don’t, and the fact that you’re doing it with him has him trying to control himself.
“I’m sorry.”
You apologize too much. He’s going to have to fix that.
“No, no.” He says, looking back down at you. “Don’t. It’s me, not you.”
“I’ve heard that before.” You laugh awkwardly, anxiously.
His hand comes to your cheek. “Hey, no it really is me. You’re perfect, I…am not.”
Your brows droop together. “You seem pretty perfect to me…I’m pretty sure I like you. Is that crazy?”
How sweet, how innocent.
He struggles with his emotion like he always does, too confused to put things into words, and the confusion turns into irritation and soon he’s huffing and drawing both hands to your face, like it will help.
“Not crazy.” He says. “I like you too, I’m certain of it…but I am not perfect, do you understand?”
He’s a magician, or he’s drugged you. James speaks assertively and it’s like you’re in a daze, just nodding along.
He sees that spark in your eye, in that moment his suspicions are confirmed. He’s watched you strike out on dates because you try with men who don’t understand what you need. Only he knows, only he knows you want someone to comfort and lead you. That’s how he gets you to do as he asks, which all just consists of changing out of that damn gorgeous dress and relaxing on your sofa with him. But in the long run, he knows you’ll follow with your blind loyalty and never forsake him.
He doesn’t let you be nervous, thinking he’s expecting something from you. He sits and lets you decide how close you want to be next to him, and that’s because Bucky is confident you’ll be following right along in his plan without his assistance.
You sit about five inches away from him, knees curled to your chest in your flannel pants and you bunch your sweater sleeves around your hands. When it’s supposed to be a two way conversation, you hardly notice how he lets you do all the talking.
That’s because he isn’t sure how to go about explaining things to you yet, he has to wait for the moment he’s confident you’re all in on this.
“It’s weird, I feel so comfortable around you…like I already know your presence.”
You do, you just don’t know that.
Bucky hums, then is immensely pleased with the way you draw yourself closer.
“Sometimes people are just like that. Familiar.” He says, slightly stiff as you turn to lean into his shoulder.
“I’m glad you seem familiar, James.”
That’s a statement echoing in his haunted mind, bouncing off walls as he carries you to bed and tucks you in after you fall asleep against him, it’s with him in the following days when he shows up in your life again after you had the fear you were never going to see him. You woke up and he was gone, no note, no number to call and you cried and felt pathetic and yet, here he is now.
Bucky is waiting outside the coffee shop as you come out after your shift, he looms in such a way you almost don’t see him.
“James.” You say in surprise, heart beating a little faster at the abrupt introduction of him. “Hi, I-I didn’t- were you waiting for me? Meeting someone?”
Bucky smiles at your nervousness. “I was waiting for you.”
Interactions like this become common. Before you realize it, you’re getting to know someone who has you memorized perfectly. There’s no concern on how to reach him, because he always manages to find you, he’s always there when you need him. And weeks pass and Bucky wants to hear you say his name a thousand times over, his obsession grows and you know it.
The best part? You don’t mind it. Sure, it’s an adjustment, your whole life has been a constant fight for attention. So when he’s here, physically ignoring people when you’re near him, your first reaction is to think it won’t last.
He assures you through his actions that he is here to stay, because when he wants something, he takes it.
You could classify this as dating, wouldn’t you? Those nights he takes you away to places where it’s just the two of you, those are dates in your mind. To Bucky? There what life is meant to be like forever.
A month after the meeting in the bar, you’re sitting in your lounge chair, murmuring about how much you hate your job and the fact that you can’t seem to get a better one, it’s a conversation Bucky hears often. And somewhere from the moment you’re draped over his lap and his hand nudges your chin up when you get blue, you sigh.
“You never touch me.” You say, large eyes blinking at him.
Bucky grows confused. “That’s not true.” He states.
Your head rests against his collar bone, face almost nuzzles into his neck and you reach for his hand.
“I don’t know the feeling of your skin.”
It’s in this moment that he knows you’re ready for the truth, as much of it as you can handle.
When you started to fall for James, you knew he was different, had a different energy about him. Never in a million years did you expect him to start explaining a story so dark and horrid, and it’s only the version he alters for you, not having it in him to taint your perfect mind with the entire nightmare.
He talks more than you’ve ever heard him talk, for thirty two minutes you sit in his lap with wide eyes and a pale expression, trying to wrap your head around it. You have about a hundred and one questions and can’t fully form any, you wait until he finishes, then he looks at you with something so humble and vulnerable.
“…What?” You breathe. “What!?”
You’re off of his lap, pushing the sleeves of your shirt up and starting a pace while you try to process the information. He sits there, watching you, letting you get through the shock.
“James- you know that sounds crazy, right? Metal arm, wanted by the government, over a hundred years old- crazy.”
You continue to mutter and work through the sheer fear of ‘oh God what did you just get yourself into?’, then after about eight and a half minutes, you settle.
Just like he knew you would. Because that’s the kind of woman you are, able to think things through from an alternate perspective.
You stand before him, hair tucked behind your ears and you breathe.
“I want to see.” You state, sure of it.
“Why?” He questions.
“I might not believe you otherwise.”
You believe him, of course you do, this is something that could only happen to you. The more you think about it, this story explains things. Like the way he always hold you with his right hand, how he goes rigid at the mention of things that could be triggering for him and you had no clue.
Bucky processes it, then stands.
A glove comes off, a perfectly normal, large, right hand is under it.
Then, the other.
You blink, staring at the metal that has been revealed, shiny and silver.
He swallows hard, then pulls at the hem of the henley shirt he wears. It lands on the floor and you don’t move, just let your eyes explore the new discovery. Up his right arm, toned bicep, broad shouldered, expanding chest, down his stomach and back up and then…
His head turns, he looks away when you see it, the scarred skin of his left shoulder. It’s jarred, metal meets flesh and you can’t look away.
Maybe you should be repulsed, but you aren’t. You step forward, hand raised and he flinches slightly.
“Can I? I-I’ll be gentle.” You whisper.
If you were not made just for him, you would have left already, screamed perhaps, anything but let your fingertips graze his skin with no anger or malice behind it.
He continues to look away while you explore, and even though you’re filled with curiosity, a sour feeling stirs in your stomach at the thought someone did this to him.
“What is it?” You ask, your index running down the metal, watching it flex almost human like.
“Vibranium.” He says, tone bare.
“This is like…Stark technology stuff.” You gasp, watching his fingers flex.
He lets out a shaky breath at the Stark name, you make a mental note to not speak of it again.
Your hand skims the expanse of his chest, firm, tense. Had you truly not realized just how huge he is? Down his flesh arm, fingers follow valleys of muscle until they slip right into his. His hand is warm and entirely engulfing yours.
The other, it holds the back of his neck, lost in his hair, forcing him to look down at you, just in time for you to lean up and kiss him slowly.
You’re okay with it, all of it.
Perhaps you’re secretly just as crazy as he is?
With your hand in his, he has no choice but to grab your waist with the thing he viewed as a weapon. You do not hurt, he does not maim you like he has feared, you draw closer to his body and show him kindness and comfort.
There was no going back now, you couldn’t reject him now. Not when you’re shifting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. The sky outside could be falling and you’d still be here, barefoot in your living room, tip toed to reach him. His hand leaves yours to cup your jaw, fingers flexed into skin like he could sink claws in.
Your hot. It’s a heat that blooms inside out and you find your hand twisting in hair and the other drawing his hips closer. Perhaps your actions shouldn’t come like this after he explained how tortured he is, but he does not stop you. In fact, it’s Bucky that nips at your lip, drawing you away in shock.
“You bit me.” You state, shocked.
“Sorry.” He says deeply.
Licking your lower lip, you shake your head. “No, it’s fine.”
That had to be it, that connection he felt, it’s because you could handle insanity.
Huffing against his lips, you breathe, open mouthed into his. “Is the serum a real thing?” You question before his tongue slips to yours.
Without a word, he’s gripping your sides and pulling you up, feet dangle before your thighs trap his waist, just one arm holding you there.
Okay. Serum’s real.
It’s hot mouths on each other until you tell him to take you to your bedroom.
“Listen to me.” He says as he sits you on the bed. “Don’t give me this just because you think it’s what I want.”
Immediately you shake your head. “No, no, I want this.”
He strokes your hair. “Think this through, there’s no going back after this, okay? You’ll be tied to me, you’ll be guilty by association, if you have me this once, I’ll want to keep coming back.”
Your heart hammers inside your chest, knees press together and your lips hang apart.
“You won’t have to keep coming back if you stay.” You say, reaching out to grip the top of his jeans. “I want it all.”
Psychotic, absolutely psychotic for speaking the words you speak and mean it so deeply. How could you say such things and still look like an angel? And how could you make him feel the way he does when you do nothing at all?
Bucky’s drunk, he’s gone, he doesn’t even know if it’s him or yet another alter ego that is enjoying all of this. But he’s undressing you and feeling every single valley and curve and soft spot. His lips are everywhere, pressed to your bare skin as you trust him with the most vulnerable parts of yourself. He’s kind to you, bringing you to a point where he knows you’re going to be relaxed enough for it. It’s his fingers that draw it out, they’re warming you up, causing your head to tilt back in ecstasy.
It courses in his blood, the rush he gets from watching you twitch and moan.
There’s stars that dance across your vision, they linger and burn, especially when you start to come down from the high you haven’t felt in awhile and he’s kissing your chest while lined up to your entrance.
“You can tell me no.” He offers one last time, but you shake your head fiercely.
“I want it.” You say, hand in his hair. “Do you?”
Does he? What a silly question for you to ask. He wants your everything, he wants to lay his claim and make you belong to with him. He wants to know you inside and out, wants to feel the way you’ll shudder and cry when he pushes you off the precipice.
“Yes.” He whispers, heavy eye contact as he stares down at you. “I want this. I want you.”
Your free hand comes to gently clutch the dog tags that hang from his neck, and you’re slightly breathless as you drag him down to your lips.
“You have me, you have me.”
Those pesky wires in his brain? The ones that are half connected? Well, they’re short circuiting. Maybe the wrong ones connect, because the level of possession he feels now isn’t one he thinks is normal. As the asset, he wasn’t allowed to possess anything, he was the possession…and before? Before the war and the snowy day in Austria and everything, he was sure he didn’t feel this way.
This is new, this is entirely because of you.
One hand braced at your head, the other grips the underside of your knee, keeping it far from the other and he pushes into you, maybe too fast.
The gasp that escapes your lungs is sharp and long, your eyes squeeze shut and he mirrors your drawn brows.
“I know, I know.” He comforts. “Breathe. There you go, just like that, my girl.”
His girl.
Toes are curled into the sheets. Maybe it’s because you haven’t done this in a while, or maybe because he’s so…big. You hide in his neck, chest heaving, fingers gripping his hair in hopes of relieving the pressure.
“Am I hurting you?” He asks, trying to get you to look at him.
“I just- ah, I need a second. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing for things.” He grunts in your ear. “We could stay like this for an hour, if that’s what you need.”
With the slight adjustment of your hips under him, you breathe out. “I-I’m okay, please, do something.”
Your normally soft voice has gained an octave, it’s bordering a whine, pinched and breathless and oh so desperate. And just like that, he slowly drags out and back in and it’s the best feeling he has ever known, better than the relief that comes after the electric shock stops.
He’s courteous, he’s gentle and slow and it’s soothing to the burn between your legs, all the way up until you get comfortable and needy for more.
Holding his jaw, you kiss him deeper, with no concern for how messy it is.
“More, please.” You say into his open mouth.
“So polite.” He teases, moving a hand up to your hip.
You choke on your inhale as he quickens his pace, driving into you in such a vulgar way, you’re threatening to arch off the mattress. But he holds you down and you take it, you take it as well as he knew you would, with nails digging into his back.
“Oh- like this. Ah, James, it’s so good.” You say, slack jawed and whiney.
You sound perfect, because you sound like this just for him. He has to grunt with a face of contortion.
“It’s because you take it so well, such a good girl.”
You blush violently at the moan that you let out, and from the way you flutter around him, he has a feeling you like the name you don’t get called often.
He might not 100% remember doing things like this, but he figures it out perfectly, encouraging you to tell him what you want and how you want it. But you’re so shy. He’s practically buried in your cervix, and you’re acting shy.
He laughs at you.
“You’re too sweet.” Is what he comments before making it his mission to figure out what it is exactly that you want.
That unserious and unspoken thought that you had to be a little crazy in order for you to be so perfect, it might just be true. Because Bucky sits back on his knees and grabs your hips, pulling them up to match the way he thrusts deeply into you, and you love it.
You love it so much, you curse and he gains a look of surprise.
His angel girl is writhing and cursing.
“Fuck, I think you’re in my stomach.” You laugh, you laugh. He’s fucking you in a way soft lovers would cringe at, and you’re laughing with pleasure.
You’re perfect.
Bucky doesn’t even know if he’s fully conscious anymore, he has to be, right? It’s not guaranteed with the haze in his head and the film over his eyes and the voice that whispers over and over.
Take, take, take. It says.
брать, брать, брать.
It sounds good in both languages.
Almost as good as the sound of you practically shouting praise. Maybe it’s intense for the first time, but nothing about this relationship was going to be subtle and calm.
You don’t want it to be.
That knot forms in your stomach, it shoots heat everywhere, your heart beats so loud you’re convinced he can hear it. Your back will ache from the way it’s arched, but it all feels too good to be a concern.
“I’m getting close.” You cry, legs shaking around him, hand over your mouth.
He leans back over you and takes the hand away, caging it to the pillow, under his.
“I want to hear you. I want to hear the noise you make when you come for me.” He tells you, hot breath mixing with yours.
You nod, wide eyes, aimed to please.
Bucky’s fingers curl with yours and that’s how he keeps your hand while the your other is damaging the skin of his back. He is no stranger to pain, and the fact you don’t mean to inflict it has his lips on your throat. His teeth graze the skin, like he’s the wolf ready to rip it apart. When he does bite the skin and you jolt at the feeling, you can only assume it’s a tic that he comes with.
His tongue presses to ease any discomfort, and hips are heavy into yours as he drives you to the point of breaking apart.
It’s high pitched and sob like, how you cry and tense against him. That hand squeezes his to ground yourself, and your head tips back, pressed into the pillow, and you lose it.
He watches in amazement and that voice is so pleased.
Mine, mine, mine.
It all pushes him overboard.
He does his best to work you through it, then he’s pulling out too fast and fisting himself to finish the job, painting across your stomach and he can’t look away.
You mourn the loss of contact, but far too overwhelmed to do anything about it. You look at him with blurry eyes, hot tears have leaked into your hair and he’s looking at the way his spend lays across your skin.
Then, deep blue eyes flick back up to yours and he’s….proud.
“You with me?” He asks in a husky tone.
You nod with a heavy head.
That’s when he finally lets go of your hand, moving to rub your cheek before he grips your jaw. Not tight, nothing to hurt you, but he grips it and your swollen lips part.
“It’s you and me now. You’re mine, do you understand?”
You shouldn’t love the sound of that but you do. So you nod, eyes heavy, skin aflame. He wipes tears, kissing you sweet and like he’s following orders, he cleans you up wordlessly.
Later, he’ll watch you sleep because you can’t fight it anymore, and he’ll know that feeling in his chest has settled. He’s a ghost with a home now, he’ll stay because you invited him in.
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mejaemin · 6 days ago
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many more (forever) - hong jisoo
wc: 1.1k
summary: jisoo said he wanted to spend the rest of his birthdays with you, so when midnight comes, he makes sure of it ♡
warnings: proposals, kissing, the rest of the sebongs r mentioned, but only jeonghan has actual dialogue !!! lots of cuteness !!! might be a little rushed and low quality
an: happy new year everyone !!! i guess im on a real joshua kick because i wrote this all today !!! i feel like such a loser posting this when i should be partying but like i said i’m the black cat so i chose to hide in my corner and post this instead :DD
(p.s. can you tell that the first paragraph or two was just me ranting ab my love for svt)
** this is a part two to joshua’s birthday fic many more !!! you don’t have to but i recommend you read it first !! **
───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────
it’s new year’s eve, and you’re welcoming the new year with the same thirteen boys who have kept you alive since your adolescence. many friends have come and gone, along with so much drama. you’ve experienced your fair share of trauma and all the things to help season your personality, and it’s always been them who were by your side. maybe it’s the alcohol that had been shoved in your face but it brings you to tears knowing that you’re going into yet another year with those you love.
like, seriously. they’re all your biggest priority, and their friendship and affection is something you wouldn’t trade for the world. at this point, it’s not even friendship. you’re all family. looking at all of them around you, laughing and playing games together, a few sharing drunken affections, it gives you a feeling of warmth.
you’re sitting with jeonghan on the couch, observing the others as they continue playing games and partying. he’ll occasionally comment or say something to throw one of them off, and your cheeks warm, giggling as you fit into the atmosphere. he turns to you, an eyebrow raised.
“you’re awfully quiet,” he starts, taking a large sip of his drink before pouring the rest of it into your cup. “join the fun, why don’t you?” he teases.
“i would be having fun if you all would quit stealing my boyfriend from me every time i try talking to him..” you say back with a little too much bite, drinking from your newly refilled cup. you wince at the flavor, but it’s good enough to let you loosen up.
jeonghan checks the time on his phone, and the screen lights up: five minutes until midnight. with that he smirks, getting up and holding his hand out to you. “well, let’s find him then.”
you let jeonghan lead you through the house, exchanging small words with some of your friends before finally finding joshua. funnily enough, he’s being crowded by seungcheol and seokmin. they all seem to be in deep conversation, and jeonghan turns to you, putting a finger up, signalling “one moment” before joining in. joshua’s blushing throughout their entire conversation, and funnily enough it reminds you of the conversation he was having before he asked you out. same people and everything. they start to conclude their chat, seungcheol patting him on the back before he can finally make his way towards you.
putting his cup down on the nearest surface, he finally meets you and brings you into a hug. “hey, baby. sorry i’ve been so caught up.” he gives you a kiss, one full of warmth before pulling away with his signature eye smile. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the excitement of going into the new year but you can feel his heart racing against your cheek.
“are you okay? what are they teasing you about over there?” you raise an eyebrow.
someone’s turned the countdown on the tv, and there���s about two minutes. he turns to you, kissing your head. “you’ll find out soon enough.”
you stay right where you are, engaging in conversation with the others while you wait. there’s many strange looks you catch some of the boys giving him, and he pauses every couple sentences to hide his face in your neck. yet, every time you ask him what it’s about, he dismisses you.
finally, it’s down to the last twenty seconds, and everyone huddles together on the same couch (both the back of it and the arms are being sat on as well, and you and a few others had to sit on people’s laps to all fit). just as it hits the last ten seconds everyone begins pushing you and joshua to stand up on the floor. with a dramatic groan, he helps you up and stands beside you, an arm around your shoulder.
five… four… three… two… one!!!
the group erupts into cheer, confetti poppers and noise makers blowing everywhere. a few (all) of the members are kissing each other and everyone’s cups clink together and sticky drinks splatter everywhere but you pay no mind because as soon as the fireworks started bursting your lips met joshua’s in the sweetest kiss, welcoming in the new year. his touch is so gentle, hand shaking slightly against the back of your head as he holds you, giving you the best of his love to start your year the right way. when you pulled away you were going to question why it was a little frantic but everyone’s shouting of “go! go! do it!” overpowered your words, and you turn to them to see what they’re talking about. they immediately gesture for you to turn back, and when you do your world stops.
joshua’s gotten down on one knee. you immediately feel almost lightheaded, your heart rate quickening and your body heating up. he looks up at you, and his smile is anxious yet golden as he reaches in his pocket. he’s about to start his ment, but first turns to the boys and gives them a look to shut them up. once they do, he gives them a sweet smile before returning to you.
“darling.. oh, wow, i’m nervous, sorry. anyway, i don’t know if you were conscious enough to hear me when i said this last night..” his expression is teasing. “but i said that i wanted to spend many more of my birthdays with you. my time with you is something extremely dear to me, and i’d do anything to make sure i can have it for the rest of my life. of course, that’s my wishful thinking, and i’ll take whatever time with you that you’ll give me, but i figured that we could come to a mutual agreement with something like this, so..” with a deep breath, your name falls from his lips. “will you please do me the honor of spending the rest of our birthdays and new years as my wife?” he finally takes the velvet box out of his pocket, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. it’s exactly your style, and with tears in your eyes you vigorously nod your head yes.
it’s quite unconventional but you fall to your knees, wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug of your life. “yes, please, josh, oh my god, yes!” you cry, laughing when he pulls you off him to slide the ring on your finger. it fits perfectly, and in the seven thousand camera flashes of everyone around it shines beautifully. when you look back up at him, he’s crying too, and he pulls you in for your second kiss of the new year, and the first as your fiancée. hopefully, like his plan was cut out, it’s the first of many.
───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────
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sixosix · 8 months ago
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hiii i fear tumblr may have ate my ask so i'll say it again just in case--if not im so sorry please ignore this i don't mean to rush you or anything :')
wanderer, candy(does that count?), fluff!! :D
(oh oh also can i be 🪐anon/saturn anon? if not thats fine! i just thought i'd ask since i think i've been sending asks consistently enough to identify myself ^^)
notes wc 800; HII your ask wasnt eaten, i was just taking a long time writing the requests LMFAO. of course u can be saturn anon!!! welcome welcome to the blog (this ask was sent a month ago and i am very much late. idek if anon is still active here…) tbh i wrote this and just went with the flow HAHA
5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST
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You unceremoniously dump the pile of imported goods on the table, causing quite a scene in the silence of the House of Daena. They scattered about, and some even clattered onto the floor. You grinned proudly at your friends’ dumbfounded stares.
Tighnari was the first to speak. “I’m assuming you had fun on your vacation in Inazuma?”
“Do you even have money left?” Alhaitham asked, quite incredulously. The most emotion you’ve seen from this month.
It took you a moment to respond, and you felt momentarily distracted by the strange sensation of being watched. “Well, no,” you said eventually. “But I bought all this for you guys! Be more grateful, will you?”
Kaveh clapped his hands. “This is incredible! I haven’t gotten the chance to try any of these local delicacies from Inazuma!”
You nodded approvingly. See? Was that so hard? “Yes, I know. Aren’t I such a good friend? You’re welcome, all of you.”
Belatedly, they mutter their thanks.
You went on a tangent, reciting the food sales pitch you memorized from the sellers, feeling remarkably intelligent. They didn’t have to know that, half the time, you were the personification of a lost tourist/foreigner/idiot in Inazuma and just decided to play it safe and keep most of the souvenirs as food.
They segregated their wanted share and thanked you again. They left you some of the candy, which you had no qualms about eating for yourself. As you all fell into the lull of a conversation, the feeling worsened, and you’ve had enough.
You turned to your friends. “He’s been staring at me for about 30 minutes now…”
They each cast their discreet glances.
“Are you scared?” Kaveh asked worriedly.
“Look at that look in his eye!” you said. “I’ve seen that same look in Rishboland Tigers!”
“He’s not going to eat you,” Tighnari sighed. Well, he wouldn’t know that. Only Alhaitham has met Hat Guy, and he seemed to be amused instead.
“Violence is not permitted in the Akademiya grounds,” Cyno said seriously.
“Maybe it’s not you he’s looking at…?” Tighnari tried.
“Cyno, switch with me,” you ordered.
Wordlessly, he obeyed. The group watched in disbelief as Hat Guy’s gaze simply moved to where you sat next. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.
“Maybe he’s interested because it’s a candy imported from Inazuma,” Cyno supplied thoughtfully.
“That’s a good point. I’m surprised you didn’t make a p—”
“Don’t you mean—” Cyno held up the box that displayed the Inazuman Electro symbol on the front, “shocked?”
You hung your head. You spoke too soon. “OK.”
Tighnari watched your face for a long moment, but it didn’t feel as charged as the guy sitting a few tables away. “You don’t seem to hate the attention,” he concluded at the sight your giddy smile.
“No, I really don’t,” you admitted sheepishly. “He’s smart, and he’s handsome. Of course I’m interested. I just wish he would be a bit more normal about his flirting—if he’s even flirting. Should I give him some?”
You didn’t wait for an answer as your chair scraped backward and you faced Hat Guy directly.
“Make sure it’s just the candy you’re giving!” Kaveh called out.
“I see that Sparks are flying,” Cyno said.
Walking over while you held his gaze was excessively awkward, but it was worthwhile seeing Hat Guy’s little smirk grow like he was pleased you were taking his challenge. It was a bit of a problem, however, that he was undeniably attractive. If he was cute from afar, he was drop-dead gorgeous up close.
“Y/N,” you said, in place of a greeting.
“They call me Hat Guy,” he mused. “Those from Inazuma?”
“Yes.” Suddenly embarrassed that the bullshit you were spewing was picked up on by the guy who everyone was pretty sure was born in Inazuma. “Did you hear me?”
Hat Guy shrugged, plucking one candy from the pile on your hands. “You did pretty well. But I only have one criticism, and I can tell you bought most of them from the same place.”
Ah, you did do that. He tore off the plastic and popped it into his mouth, expression turning sour. “The best ones come from the locals. You should’ve asked the kids,” he advised.
Mouth dry, you said, “Yeah, I should’ve.”
Everyone told you that the mysterious new student—Hat Guy, you now learned—was prickly and slips off when someone approaches him. His birthday was apparently a very thrilling event—in the case that everyone had to hunt him down to give him his cake.
“Want a tip?” he asked, head tilted and looking entirely pretty. His tongue rolled around as he ate his—your candy.
“You seem to know best.”
“Take me with you next time.”
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rentenwins · 19 days ago
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silly little excuses (newneighbour!leehan x reader)
ch 1 • ch 2 • ch 3 • ch 4 • ch 5 • ch 6 • ch 7
synopsis: how oblivious can one get? leehan and his most favourite thing in the world… oh and his fish too, i guess.
content: NON-LINEAR TIMELINE this won’t make sense unless you read prev chapters!!, tooth-rotting domestic leehan, how does one feelings?, sungho is supportive but annoyed, f-bomb is dropped, banter, food depictions, FISH AND WATER
a/n: hi… i feel really bad for disappearing ;-; really bad writer’s block and very stressful time for me despite my uni break… but we are getting somewhere :’) hope you can all forgive me, enjoy!
wc: 2350+
taglist: @haechology @jenuinne @saintriots @badaspookie @yveol @yunextdoor @lailols @rawrbamgyu @amarecerasus @pandorahearts19 @luvvhaerin @saritahwang @bee-the-loser @secretlyseochangbin
chapter 7: testing the waters (literally)
“Temperature shouldn’t drop below 22 degrees C, nor the pH below 6.5 and— oh yes, I keep their food just underneath here, and if you see anything uneaten for a few hours just remove it gently with the net. What else…”
You stare at the drawer underneath Leehan’s fish tank as he just showed you, seeing how incredibly neat and organised it all looks. It’s the day after the beach trip with your friends, and now you’re in Leehan’s apartment as you had promised him yesterday. He had just gone through the whole process of how to read the thermometers and pH readings, as well as the quality of the filters.
(As Leehan said, “Oh, but I already cleaned them so they shouldn’t act up. But in case one of them does, just turn one off. One filter really is all they need, but I just find this more thorough…” You look at the tank fondly. He really does love his fish.)
Leehan’s a bit off today, you observe. He talks as much as he usually does, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes like they usually did. Now that you think about it, his smiles yesterday weren’t as quaint either. The boy took to wearing his glasses today, but it doesn’t do much to hide the bags under his eyes, nor to distract from the way he slurs his words a bit today out of an obvious tiredness.
“I think that’s all of it. But seriously, if you need anything, just text me.” Leehan says to you while you insist that it’s really not a problem.
This wasn’t your first time in his apartment, but Leehan was still jittery because of his crush! In his own house! Showing her a hobby that he never really opened up to a lot of people about!
Consequently, Leehan can’t help but recall a conversation from a few weeks ago, the same week when he had embarrassingly showed up to your doorstep asking for ingredients for his dinner.
——
“y/n, I think I like her.”
The line is silent, and a part of Leehan’s sanity comes back to him at the words he just blurted out. A crush. On his neighbour. Someone that he hardly knows. Mortifying to Leehan at least. The silence was almost killing him.
“Sungho? Are you still th—“
“About time you doofus!,” Sungho cuts him off with a shriek, “you and y/n’s heart eyes for each other were giving us high-blood pressure for goodness sake.”
“Us? Who’s us?”
Sungho scoffs at Leehan’s question, “Me and Taesan, duh. And probably Jaehyun too at this point. Don’t you know how hard we’ve tried to be subtle in helping you? God, I didn’t know y/n was this oblivious either, y’all really are meant for each other.”
“Helping? What on this earth have you been helping me with this whole time?”
Sungho groans, loud this time that Leehan has to remove himself from the speaker for a second. “The study session, leaving you alone with her. That ring a bell? Oh, and the chai latte. Leehan, I’ve known you for how long now, if I really wanted to get you something to eat I would’ve just gotten you those gummies you hoard.”
Leehan doesn’t even take a mild offence because he was too busy confirming his suspicions.
“So you were trying to sabotage me! Embarrass me in front of her and everything!”
“Oh good Lord, Leehan.” Sungho drags a hand down his face, “This was a plot for you to get closer to her! God, are you really that much of an idiot that I have to tell it to you like this straight up? I’ve never seen her so nervous, the way she looks at you like she’s mesmerised for some effed up reason. and the cooki— oh my god those cookies were the first fucking sign, I can’t believe yo—”
“Wait, hold on. Those cookies? I thought she made them for everyone.” Leehan leans back in his chair looking at the ceiling trying to process every interaction with you for the last few weeks.
“Well, yeah, she does,” Sungho says a little calmer, “but the last time she made those types of cookies were for Woonhak’s graduation and she wouldn’t stop complaining how time-consuming they were to make. Leehan. She likes you. So much that she’d make cute little biscuits for you and not give the rest of us. You know, like she usually does.”
Leehan is quiet, still trying to process the information Sungho just dumped on him and still staring at his ceiling. Sungho sighs and breaks the silence.
“You’re going to Busan right?”
“Yeah?” Leehan replies, more of a question and not a reply, “Not for another few weeks during study break. Why?”
“Let her take care of your Corydoras or something while you’re gone. Like house sitting.”
Leehan gets annoyed at Sungho a lot, but nothing gets him more annoyed at than when Sungho actually makes sense.
Sungho continues, “I was gonna tell you to confess to her but you can’t really do that if you’re on the other side of the country.”
Leehan slides down his chair, “I hate to say it but I think you might be getting somewhere with this.”
Leehan hears Sungho laugh. “Well, if she wonders why you asked her to take care of your fish and not us instead, just be honest.”
——
Honest.
The word reverberates in Leehan’s head throughout the current ordeal. It was reverberating all of last night when he was trying to fall asleep, the events at the beach were replaying in his mind. And it was the first time in his life he was at the beach and wasn't just thinking of the sea and swimming in it.
“Honest… trust.” he thinks.
You were both sitting on Leehan’s dining chairs that he pulled over from his small dining table to sit in front of the fish tank, showing you how he takes care of them.
“I’ll show you how I feed them, then you can try for yourself.” Leehan says as he stands and carefully opens the lid of the glass tank. He then opens the neatly organised drawer and pulls out a container of bottom feeder flakes.
“Just take a bit,” he demonstrates as he pinches a bit between his thumb and his index finger, “and you need to submerge it in the water so it sinks properly and so they don’t need to exert too much effort to swim to the surface.”
The fish food that Leehan releases into the water sinks slowly to the bottom to where the corydoras were all huddled. You watch as few of the fish start to eat and prod at the flakes.
Leehan passes the fish food in your direction to encourage you to give it a try as you stood from the chair. You take a pinch the same way Leehan did and you hesitantly let your hand hover over the water. Leehan seems to have read your hesitation and lightly grabs your wrist that was over the tank. You feel like you forgot how to breathe, yet your heart rate skyrockets and you feel your legs are wanting to give way.
Through it all, he doesn’t seem to notice any of this while gently lowers your hand until the flakes have been submerged, and you release the flakes between your fingertips. You see the fish curiously swim around the flakes like they've never seen it before, honestly you could watch them all day. Distantly, you remember Leehan’s hand that guided your fingers towards the water in the tank so you instinctively look at him, unsure of the blush on your face. But you’re met with the sight of Leehan enamoured with his fish as they ate and effortlessly glided in the tank.
He seemed to come back to his senses as he gazed at his hand still gently holding your wrist above the water. He gently lets go and clears his throat, hoping that his hair was long enough to cover his very red ears.
“Sorry I— wait here.” He manages to stutter out as he steps in long strides to his kitchen to grab a tea towel. He comes back with a tea towel adorned with cartoon corals and offers it to you to wipe your hands on, his ears still very visibly red. You mutter a ‘thanks’ and he clears his throat. Who knew a little gesture like that would’ve sent him to a frenzy? It’s silent again for a second as he takes the tea towel from you.
“How long are you away again for?” You ask to ease the awkwardness with a clear of your throat.
“Just three days, gonna visit my family and my nephew.” Leehan seems to reply easily, also trying to calm his blush down, “have you been to Busan before?”
You shake your head. “Well, did you want anything from there while I’m gone?” Leehan asks.
You shrug, “No clue.” Leehan looks like he’s deep in thought so you supply, “You really don’t have to get me anything, Leehan. Just— just come back safely, is all.”
Leehan’s eyes widen for a second before he laughs nervously, suddenly unable to meet your eyes at where you’re both standing.
“Well, I’ll think of something. I need to thank you in some way or another.” Leehan replies. He says it’s a ‘thank you’ gesture for taking care of his fish, but deep down he knows it’s also for his helpless little crush on you.
“Let’s hang out when I come back.” Leehan says to you, eyes holding yours as you couldn’t do anything but look back at him. His eyes trace your face, down to your lips where he doesn’t dare linger.
“I mean it. Just us two.” He adds.
You were taken aback, you almost laugh. There was no way he’s asking this right now. Right?
“Sure. If you’d like to,” you say with a dryness in your mouth. God, when did it get so warm?, “now you really gotta promise to come back safely.”
——
It’s Monday night, and Leehan had already left for Busan in the morning. You run some errands in the afternoon before coming back home, all with perfect timing so you could look after Leehan’s fish after lounging on your couch.
You make your way to Leehan’s apartment with his spare key, attached to it is a cute little green alien keychain. You go inside and make your way to the fish tank.
You step closer and open the drawer where all the supplies are kept and you’re met with a piece of paper that was undoubtedly Leehan’s handwriting.
Hi y/n, thank you for taking care of the Corydoras while I’m gone. And don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about your gift
Leehan ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ
You can’t help but smile at the letter he had left. Putting it aside so it doesn’t get damaged, you start the routine Leehan had taught you the night prior. Checking the pH, the water temperature, then opening the tank to feed the Corydoras. You do it with care just like Leehan did, and stare at the fish as they swim around the tank, the slow hum of the filter the only thing that can be heard in the quiet apartment.
You felt happy that Leehan has trusted you with his most precious pets, knowing how much they mean to him. You sigh, not really fully knowing what he meant of ‘hanging out’. Not like you already do it with all your other friends. But he said just you two! ‘He probably just means well!’ you thought ‘to be nice, like an extra thank you. It’s not that bad.’
Before you know it, 30 minutes have passed of you just staring at the tank alone with your thoughts about Leehan, only disturbed by your onset of sudden hunger. You remembered the warmth of his hand over your wrist. You sigh and groan again as you stare at the tank and its colourfulness, then you really start to pay attention to it.
It was colourful, clean and vibrant. Leehan’s care was evident. and to you it was endearing. Who else would take so much care in caring for little creatures. You remember the sparkle in Leehan’s eyes as he looked at his pets after demonstrating to you on how to take care of them. You smile at the memory and your stomach flutters again, and not from hunger.
A sudden knock on the door startles you on the chair you were sitting on in front of the tank before the dread of Leehan’s words could haunt you again.
“Y/n? You in here?” You hear Jaehyun’s voice before the door opens as he lets himself in. He’s greeted with the sight of you in front of Leehan’s tank.
“Myungjae?” You turn around confused, “How’d you know I was here?”. Jaehyun was holding a plastic bag, clearly from food delivery, taking his slides off at the door’s entrance.
“I could ask you the same thing,” He chirps as he makes his way into Leehan’s apartment, “What? Are you missing Leehan already?” He places the delivery bag on the small dining table, smiling at himself, proud of his own little jab. The smile falters when your usual bite doesn’t come his way. He nervously looks at you, still sitting on the chair but your gaze meeting anywhere but his.
“Y/n.” Jaehyun says slowly as you look up at him, “I was just joking! I mean, I guess we all miss Leehan! Even though he… hasn’t even been gone for what? 10 hours? But seriously, who’s counting anyw—“
“Fuck, I think I like him.” You blurt before you could stop yourself. Your eyes immediately widen and you feel your heart plummet to your feet as you realise what you just said out loud. You smack your hand over your mouth as Jaehyun looks at you with mouth equally gaped wide.
The silence was palpitating, even the hum of the filter seemed too loud, and even with Jaehyun in the same room.
“Y/n.” Jaehyun tries again, and you meet his gaze again. But this time Jaehyun doesn’t look as calm as he walked in. His face looked like it was about to explode, like how he usually looked at Woonhak before he would scold him into next year.
“Y/N ARE YOU SERIOUS, YOU’RE ONLY REALISING THIS NOW? GOD YOU BOTH REALLY WERE MADE FOR EACH OTHER.”
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lowkeyerror · 1 year ago
Text
A New Victim
Sam Carpenter x Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Notes: 1st part of a lil mini-series, had to post something for Halloween, will contain suspected Scream warnings eventually
Summary: You knew something of the rumors surround your classmate, Tara but you never took them seriously. However you find yourself wrapped up in the real life horror story.
Pt2 | Pt3 | Masterlist
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You had heard the rumors about Tara Carpenter and her sister circulating around campus. The rumors didn’t bother you much. Or rather they didn’t persuade you to treat your classmate, Tara, any differently than you would treat anyone else.
Some people were afraid to interact with her in fear of pissing her off. They were more afraid that getting on Tara’s bad side would alert her sister, Sam.
Now Sam was a little scary. You had seen her with Tara a few times. The woman looked like her primary state of being was upset. She looked like a very serious figure.
You didn’t blame her. Their whole group of friends had almost been murdered. Instead of sympathy and compassion the public offered accusations and scrutiny. So much so that they moved away from their hometown to escape the media.
“You’re friends with my sister, right?”
You were sat under a tree on campus the first time you heard Sam speak. Looking at her this close made your heart flutter. She was an attractive woman and that was enough to make you sweat a bit.
Unable to speak for a moment, you nod dumbly.
Sam ignores it and continues with her questioning,” Have you seen her today? I’ve been looking for her everywhere and I can’t find her.”
“She left class a bit early today. I think she said something about Chad needing her help with something.”
Sam rolls her eyes, “Of course she did. I’m Sam by the way, sorry to interrupt you."
Before you can say your own name, the younger Carpenter sister is shouting it as she approaches the tree with Chad trailing behind her.
“Y/n! Don’t mind my overprotective and obsessive sister. What ever she threatened you with, I can promise she won’t do.”
“Where have you been? Y/n told me you left class to meet Chad.”
Tara glares at the girl sitting,” You told her I skipped.”
You shrug,” She seemed worried, so I just told her you left with Chad.”
“Where I am is none of her business. She has my number if she’s looking for me.”
Sam scoffs, “Having your number doesn’t mean shit if you don’t answer your fucking phone.”
“I think we should all just calm down for a second, okay. Tara is safe and everything is fine,” Chad tries to de-escalate the situation.
“No, it’s not fine Chad. Why is my sister skipping classes to meet up with you? And why isn’t she answering my text or calls?”
Y/n had no place in this conversation, but she felt like moving away would only cause a bigger fuss.
“Because we were fucking. Is that what you want to hear Sam?”
Sam runs a hand through her hair,” I don’t care that you’re fucking. I care that I can’t get in contact with you when I’m worried about you.”
“What are you worried about?”
Sam looks at the girl as if she’s grown two heads,” Are you fucking serious Tara?”
Tara groans,” We aren’t there anymore, Sam. We left Woodsboro. No one is coming after us. So why should I have to live my life in paranoia because you can’t move on?”
“Fine, you know what I'm done. Don't pretend you don't have that feeling like someone is always fucking watching us. Don't pretend like what happened back there doesn’t fucking traumatize you and make it hard to live your day-to-day life. But most of all don’t act like there aren’t psychos out there willing to try to fucking replicate that shit because it happens every fucking time, Tara.”
Sam storms off after that. Tara’s eyes soften for a moment before her mask comes back on. Chad goes to rest his hand on her shoulder, but she shakes him off.
It’s only then that her eyes land on you, “You must feel like it’s your lucky day getting front row tickets to the freak show.”
You shook your head, “It’s none of my business, so I don’t really care.”
Chad senses that there’s more you want to say, “But…”
“But your sister kind of has a point. There’s a lot of sick fucks out there that have a weird obsession over him and over y’all. Entire internet communities are filled with those kinds of people. It’s a little naïve to think that just because you moved away that you’re safe.”
Neither Tara nor Chad like the way the last sentence sounds in your voice. They both eye you suspiciously. That’s when you realize what you said could come off wrong.
You began to sputter and put your hands up in surrender, “I’m just agreeing with Sam.”
Chad wasn’t convinced, but Tara had known you a little better. She knew that your awkward demeanor was tried and true.
“Anything else you want to pile on, Y/n?”
You look between the standing pair,” You left class to fuck your boyfriend?”
That leaves them both blushing rapidly. Tara quickly spews out, “He’s not my boyfriend.”
While Chad opts for, “We did not hook up.”
You laugh at their response. Unfortunately for you, this brought you a step to close to the kids from Woodsboro in the eyes of Ghostface.
The killer had watched the entire interaction from start to finish. From the moment Sam approached you, the killer began analyzing you.
They saw the potential interest you had in Sam and your budding friendship with Tara as enough reason to add you to their list.
Tara and Chad eventually left you alone. Shortly after their departure you decided that it was time for you to leave as well.
It was still daylight when you decided to make your way to your apartment. There was a pit in your stomach as you walked. Though the streets were crowded, it felt like someone was staring at you.
You wanted to dismiss the feeling, but you checked your surroundings first. It was almost as if the crowd had faded away and the sounds of the bustling New York streets came to a halt.
Staring at you from across the street, was Ghostface. In your mind this wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been. You had stopped walking, almost paralyzed in your spot.
The killer sent a wave your way, before dragging their finger across their neck. You shut your eyes as you stood still. You were trying to convince yourself that when you opened them, you’d wake up from a dream.
When you feel a body collide with yours, you shriek and push the person away. Your eyes shoot open instantly.
You don’t know if it’s lucky or unlucky that Samantha Carpenter was on the ground in front of you.
The woman wanted to yell at you, but the look of terror on your face stopped her. It was like you were in a trance, your eyes were glued to a spot across the street. Sam looks in that direction but doesn’t see anything.
She slowly picks herself off of the floor. She’s hesitant to touch you, so instead she just calls your name, “Y/n, what was that about?”
You turn your attention to the woman, but you look physically ill, and she takes note of that.
“I saw- He’s going to kill me. Oh fuck, I’m going to throw up.”
The bile quickly rises up your throat. You rush to the end of the street and hunch over.
Sam is instantly by your side. She holds your hair with one hand and rubs your back with the other. The Carpenter sister couldn’t really make out what you said the first time.
Once you finish vomiting, she wants to question you again, but refrains from doing so. Though it is against her own set of strict rules, you look unwell, and she can’t leave you like this in good conscious.
The apartment is close by, so she helps you stand and guides you to her apartment. You don’t say anything during the walk, you barely have even the cognizance to pick up your feet.
The only image that keeps replaying in your head is the cloaked figure dragging their finger across their throat. It makes you want to puke all over again.
When she enters the apartment it’s a full house. Tara, Chad, Anika, Mindy, Ethan, and Quinn; were all congregated in the living room.
Sam motions the people on the couch to move out of the way. She sits you up straight and everyone is silent.
“Who is that? I thought we strictly had a no one, except Quinn's hook ups and us, in this apartment rules.” Mindy is the first to speak up.
“Why is Y/n here and why does she look like that?” Tara gives her sister a pointed look.
“Don’t look at me I found her on the street like this. She shoved me to the ground and vomited in the street.”
“Poor thing,” Quinn reacts to Sam’s words.
“Did she say anything? Because it looks like she’s a walking zombie,” Ethan adds.
Sam nods, “She did, but I didn’t understand her and seconds later she was puking.”
Anika nudges Tara,” She’s your friend, try to get through to her.”
Tara slowly approaches Y/n. She gets eye level with the girl who seems to be in a catatonic state.
“Y/n, what happened? Talk to me,” Tara’s voice is gentle when she speaks. A side of her that no one in the house is used to seeing emerges.
You begin to tremble, and your eyes suddenly come alive. Your voice is shaky,” He’s going to kill me."
It was a whisper, but Tara heard you perfectly clear. Sam notices her sister’s body tense after the words left your lips.
“Who?”
You begin to shake your head as tears start to stream down your face. Your head buries itself in your hands.
“I saw him, across the street,” your throat burns as you spoke.
Sam hears that part and interjects herself in the conversation,” Who did you see Y/n?”
“Ghostface.”
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grogwrites · 24 days ago
Text
Stranger - O.P. 81
Part Three - Final Part
part one • part two • part three
Summary: When someone returns to Oscar’s life after years apart, he has a hard time finding common ground with her to reconcile the feud between them. That is, until she signs on as a driver for the upcoming F1 season. Then he can’t seem to get her out of his mind.
Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Female OC
CW: Dual POV series. Please take my warnings seriously before continuing on. This series is not for everyone, as consistent depictions of mental health struggles are conveyed in the writing, primarily PTSD and loss of a loved one. angst (shocker), swearing, depictions of PTSD, mentions of death and car crashes, crying/anxiety attacks, Lando’s a twat at first, slight suggestive content, some making out, FINALLY SOME FLUFF (only took us three parts to get there, right gang?)
A/N: THE FINAL PART! 🥹🩵 thank you all for the love you’ve shown to Claire and Oscar. I may do a little epilogue part if it has enough interest shown towards it. I’ve loved writing this, though, and I hope you all have loved it as well 🫶🏻
Word Count: 3.5k
* DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.
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She didn’t necessarily remember how the argument started, but she was surprised how quickly things escalated. Fire and ice. Claire absolutely hated how Oscar clocked her shit like that. Then again, he always seemed to know her better than she knew herself.
She stared back at Lando—the image was like a stand off: the two of them on either side of his living room, trying to think of the next word or phrase to leave their mouths. Her dad’s voice was echoing through her head as she tried to calm herself down before her anger managed to boil over. Breathe, Claire. Breathe.
“You used me,” He finally accused, taking a few steps closer. His voice was quiet, calculated. She countered his movement by backing herself into the wall, distancing herself from him.
“We used each other,” she barked in response. “You know we did. We agreed to keep things surface level, so you can’t come at me and—“
“No, because I can,” he dug his phone out of his pocket, before flashing her a text conversation between himself and Edith. So much for being friends. Claire was about at the point of shutting everyone out again, just like she did in Seoul. She could almost laugh at how Edith was so quick to backstab her in such a manner. Claire had done nothing but stick up for her, and here she was now: throwing Claire under the bus for the opportunity to suck Lando’s dick. “She said you research your competition—you find their weakness so you can try to drag them down.”
“I do,” Claire retorted as she quickly met his gaze. It was slightly a lie, but she was too pissed at him to try and correct the accusation. Her chest was burning up with anger. “It’s a damn good strategy, too. I do what I can to win.”
“You haven’t even started in F1 yet,” Lando scoffed as he put his phone away. “What do you know about winning?”
Lando was talking about racing, she knew that. But yet…his words seemed to cut deeper inside of her—winning. She felt her shoulders slump. Sure, she was one hell of a race car driver, but in other aspects of her life, she failed. She failed with Oscar…she failed with keeping her dad alive…she failed with maintaining relationships, platonic or romantic. And now here she was, failing at her own fucking strategy that has helped her win over the course of her life. She wasn’t a winner—she was quite the opposite. But racing? That was the only thing she seemed to get right—the only thing she was confident in…or used to be, anyways. Driving used to be muscle memory to her. Her dad made her into a machine on the track, so she was going to make sure she did anything to continue to make him proud—to try and erase what happened the day they got into the crash.
It was all why she started looking into the weaknesses of her competition, anyways—why she made it her go-to racing strategy. One mistake, and things could turn fatal. If she could pinpoint someone’s flaw on track and avoid it at all costs, then she would be safe. She didn’t notice the other driver hydroplaning when she crashed into them…when she ultimately killed her dad. She met Lando’s gaze again as the fire in her chest continued to scorch and disintegrate any possible bit of calm she had left.
“I don’t need to prove myself to you,” she sneered at the Brit, gritting her teeth as she spoke. She took a few steps closer to him, gaining her confidence again with each step. “You choke under pressure. You lack confidence in your driving. Just because you’ve won a race, doesn’t mean you know anything about winning, either.” Lando’s next words drove the pre-existing stake in her heart in even deeper.
“Go to hell.”
She pushed past him, leaving his apartment before anymore words could be spewed between them. She knew her decision to sleep with him was reckless, and all she’s done since leaving Melbourne was seemingly ruin her own life. The tears ran rapidly down her face as she fumbled with her keys to get into her apartment. She couldn’t even bring herself to be mad at Lando as much as she wanted to, because she was the one who brought this onto herself. As Claire shut her front door, she pressed her back to it and slid down to the floor.
The feeling was overwhelming—like everything was crashing into her at once: all the way back from when her dad died, leading up until now. Every decision she had ever made, every bridge she had burned to get to where she was…and for the first time in a long time, she felt regret. She regretted the life she built for herself, and she regretted the person she turned herself into. Claire regretted pushing Oscar away, moving to Monaco, sleeping with Lando…everything was a deep rooted seed of regret. She had spent all these years building a guard around her heart, when it only seemed to make everything worse than it already was.
The only person she wanted to talk to right now was Oscar, but she wasn’t sure if they were in that threshold again in their relationship. The reconciliation at the club the other night was definitely a stepping stone, but hardly a big enough step to validate visiting him at three in the morning. Would he push her away? Would he even answer his door? Claire was wagering to guess that he might be mad—he used to be a bit of a grouch when they were kids if someone woke him up. On the other hand, however, circumstances have changed between them. For better or for worse, she wasn’t entirely sure.
Claire played with the hem of her t-shirt as she gambled with the idea of going to see him. Her tears had slowed, and her demeanor was calmer. If she had any shot of regaining control of her life and mending the mistakes she made, then there couldn’t be any harm in trying to see him—she had to at least try. She inhaled deeply before pushing herself to her feet, and leaving her apartment once more.
.
Claire was the last person Oscar was expecting at his door this late at night. It was a miracle he even woke up when she knocked, but perhaps the universe was working overtime at bringing their lives back together. Ever since he saw her at the club two nights ago, he’s felt…strange. He couldn’t decide if he was excited to potentially have her back, or weary. As he looked back at her now, he noticed how red her eyes were…how puffy her cheeks were.
“You answered,” she observed, equally as surprised as Oscar felt. He smiled sleepily towards her, then leaned against the doorframe. “I’m sorry it’s so late.”
“Don’t be,” he responded groggily. “Is everything okay?” Her arms were around him in a matter of seconds, further catching him off guard. When he felt her sporadic breathing against his chest, he realized she was definitely not okay. He wrapped his arms around her in return, holding her close. He closed his eyes as she nuzzled her face into his chest. His chin rested on the top of her head, as he sat in silence, letting her work through whatever had just happened.
“Lando and I ended things,” she managed to say between sobs.
Oscar wasn’t exactly expecting the news to hit him as hard as it did. Was he…happy? He felt a bit like an ass at feeling relieved when she said it—he cared about Claire and Lando both so much. But this was Claire—his Claire. He pulled away from the embrace, then used his hands to wipe away her tears.
“I’m really sorry,” he said softly. “You want to come in?” Claire nodded lazily, and Oscar wasted no time helping her into the small confines of his apartment.
He was silently grateful he cleaned today. He hung up a few family photos around the place, trying to decorate it more so it felt more like a home. Oscar enjoyed feeling comfortable in his environment, and now that he was living away from Melbourne, he wanted the place to feel as warm and welcoming as possible. He watched Claire take in everything, when her eyes landed on one picture in particular: the first Piastri Christmas that her and Simon came to.
“Oh my god,” her voice was barely a whisper. She brought her hand up to the photo, slowly tracing the image as if to instill it into her memory. Oscar’s heart ached for her. Claire had told him at the club how broken she felt, but now was the first time he could really see it. She didn’t look well. Her already fair skin was even more pale than usual, and her eyes were void of any kind of life. “Things were so…different.” She looked back at him with a hint of a smile playing on her somber expression. Oscar smiled softly in return, making his way over to her.
“I never threw away any pictures,” he admitted sheepishly as he faced the photo with her. He chuckled softly at the sight of her puffy, red Christmas dress she wore in it. They were holding the remote control cars, each grinning ear to ear. Things were so simple back then. “I still have the cars, you know.” He heard a small gasp from Claire before he turned his attention down to her. She looked up at him in return.
“No way,” she responded. “God, those were so fun.” Oscar shifted his weight slightly, feeling his curiosity get the better of him. He wondered what happened between her and Lando—just a few days ago, Lando was talking about how well things were going.
“Um,” he cleared his throat. “Do you…want to talk about what happened?”
“With Lando?” She asked. He nodded. He watched as she drew in a deep breath, thinking of what to say. “Um, Oscar, I haven’t become the best person since I moved. I want to start by saying that—“
“I don’t care,” Oscar quickly interjected, trying to reassure her. “I can promise you, nothing you say will make me hate you again. You can’t get rid of me again that easily.”
“I was using Lando,” she stated simply. “After the accident I, um, developed this sort of plan…I wanted to know every other driver’s flaw or weakness while they drove so that—“
“—you could anticipate it before it happened?” Oscar finished for her, now picking up on where she was leading with this. She had talked about the accident only briefly with him, but he didn’t know much detail. He didn’t need to, really, to put the pieces together.
She was driving the car the day they crashed. Someone driving in the lane next to them hydroplaned on the water in the road, and crashed into them—killing Simon on impact. He knew Claire well enough to know that she started implementing this ‘plan’ because she blamed herself for the accident—she probably was trying to avoid any other potential accident as to if try and reverse what happened that day. But that was the fucked up thing in life—you couldn’t change the past.
“I knew Lando was self conscious,” she continued, clearly shifting uncomfortably under Oscar’s gaze. “I figured if I slept with him, I could find how, exactly, that interfered with his driving. He chokes under pressure…he tends to bomb his race starts if he is near the front of the grid. He lacks confidence.” Oscar couldn’t help but raise his eyes in surprise at how much she knew about Lando. It was spot on, too.
“Claire,” he started gently, “the accident wasn’t your fault.”
“It could’ve been prevented if I noticed the guy swerving,” she argued, as if she could change Oscar’s mind. He knew she was trying to paint herself as a villain, but he saw her as anything but. He just saw her for what she was—broken.
“You wouldn’t have noticed him, Bear,” he whispered as he took both of her hands in his. “The rain was coming down too fast and too hard. It made it hard to see anything in those conditions.” He knew she heard truth in his words as she shifted her weight, leaning towards him ever so slightly. Her head bowed, as she looked down at her feet.
“I miss him so much, Osc.”
He missed Simon, too. More than words could ever express. Hearing the exhausted desperation in her voice could’ve been equivalent to getting punched, Oscar thought.
“I miss him, too,” he used one of his hands to lightly grab her chin, and guide her to look at him again. Her eyes were misty, still. “Bear, you can’t change the past. You can’t continue to worry about the things out of your control. The most you can do is look towards the future—and how proud Simon would be to see you racing in Formula 1.”
He wasn’t exactly expecting her to kiss him, but when her lips collided against his, he was quick to melt into her touch. He could feel her tears as they rolled off of her cheeks, and on to his hand. It felt like fireworks in his stomach, as a warm, low buzz echoed through this body. Claire. He was kissing Claire. A small hum sounded in his throat, as he instinctively pulled her closer to him—his hands landing on her waist. She grabbed ahold of his t-shirt, sending a swarm of butterflies through his chest.
Oscar swiftly lifted her, as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his torso. Both of them refused to break the kiss, as he stumbled his way through the living area before laying her on the couch. With each breath of air, the kiss deepened as though they were trying to make up for lost time. Oscar’s hands eagerly wandered her body, trying helplessly to memorize every curve. His mind whispered her name repeatedly like a song he couldn’t get out of his head. Claire. His Claire. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she moaned softly against his lips. It was enough for his legs to give out under him. She was intoxicating—she was addictive. He never wanted to let her go—he couldn’t make that mistake again.
“I love you,” she whispered into the kiss. Oscar pulled away momentarily, allowing the depth of the words to fall between them. As he stared down at her, all twelve years of their relationship seemed to flood over him. Love. His heart swelled as the word—the feeling—dripped upon him like a profound epiphany.
“I love you, too,” he finally said. “I love you so much, Bear.”
.
7 MONTHS LATER - Melbourne, Australia
Stolen glances were what Oscar thrived on. Each time he caught Claire staring at him in the paddock, he swore his breath caught in his throat. They’d each smile, maybe laugh a little, then continue on with their commitments. He felt like a damn teenager again; it was pathetic. After the summer break ended, they had made it a point to text and call constantly. But being here—the first race of the season—it felt…different. Lando, however, seemingly caught on quickly to their behavior. Unbeknownst to Oscar, he had been watching them intently since Claire and him ended things. Oscar tried to care; he really did. But all Oscar could think about was the next time he got to hold her—the next time he got to kiss her.
“Claire is a better driver than I thought,” Lando grumbled in the McLaren trailer after Qualifying finished. Claire managed to take the shitty Alpine car to an impressive finish in P5. Oscar could hardly control the smile on his face when he found out. Right now, though, he was biting the insides of his cheeks. He didn’t want to piss Lando off even more—especially considering he finished below Claire.
“Yeah, she’s decent,” he managed. Oscar shook his helmet hair out, then ran a hand through it. “Tomorrow should be an interesting first race.”
Lando was quiet, presumably thinking about what to say to Oscar next. It had been like this since the weekend started, and Oscar knew it was because of Claire. He knew they needed to hash it out, but neither of them really knew where to start with the conversation. Lando had begun suspecting that they already knew each other since that first day in Monaco, so when their late night rendezvous officially ended and Oscar began taking more suspicious phone calls, it basically confirmed it for him.
“Oscar?” The Brit turned, leaning against the table that they were standing next to. “We’re, um…we’re friends, yeah?” Oscar glanced at Lando to find him staring back at him intently.
“Yeah, of course,” Oscar reassured him quickly. He wanted to be honest with Lando, but he just hadn’t found the right opportunity to bring it up yet. If he could clear the air, he’d feel so much better. He didn’t like lying, especially to people he cared about. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, um,” Lando sighed. “Is there something going on between you and Claire? Like, romantically?”
“Yes,” Oscar wasted no time. He wanted the tension between them to leave, so he didn’t think beating around the bush would serve either of them any good. “Um, it kind of started unexpectedly. I just didn’t know how to tell you—“
“She’s using you,” Lando quickly interrupted. “She does that, mate. Her friend told me that she researched her competition and—“
“I know,” Oscar now cut Lando off, not wanting to hear him talk about it. It was a complicated situation that Lando didn’t understand, and didn’t need to know the details of, quite frankly. Claire’s trauma wasn’t his business to share or to hash out. “I mean, not about her using me—but I know she researches drivers.”
“You don’t care?” Lando scoffed, as a smile of pure disbelief took over his expression.
“Lando, I’ve known Claire for twelve years,” Oscar explained, keeping his tone calm as to not escalate the situation. There were still camera crews around, and he definitely didn’t need this plastered across Netflix or Sky Sports. “She…does that because of some trauma she’s got. It’s complicated—“
“So, not only are you dating my ex,” Lando’s tone was wavering on the edge of anger and pure mania, “but you lied to me about knowing her?”
“I know how that looks,” Oscar carded a hand through his hair, quickly growing flustered. He hated the attention—he hated confrontation. “But I honestly wasn’t on speaking terms with her that first day. We hated each other back then.”
“And now you’re here, excusing her actions because of some bullshit excuse—“
“Hey,” Oscar surprised himself at the sudden shortness to his voice, but he couldn’t sit here and let Lando continue to drag Claire through the mud without knowing the full story. “I’m not excusing her actions. Regardless of what she went through, she shouldn’t have done it. But you can’t diminish someone’s trauma just because you don’t know or understand what they went through.”
“Okay, so help me understand,” Lando argued, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Help me understand what exactly happened to turn her into a bitch?” Before Oscar could act on his anger, Claire’s familiar, gentle voice rang from behind the two drivers.
“My dad died.”
The two boys turned, watching as she slowly made her way over to them. She was still wearing her Alpine team kit, with her hair tied back in a ponytail. Loose strands of hair hung around her face from wearing her helmet earlier that day.
“I was driving us to visit my mom’s grave,” she continued to explain. Her voice was calm, collected—it perfectly evened out Lando’s aggressive demeanor. “It was raining. The road was ponding. I didn’t see the car next to us hydroplane and swerve. It hit us, and my dad died on impact.” In Oscar’s peripheral vision, he saw Lando’s jaw clench. He knew that he felt sorry for her, but his pride wasn’t allowing him to cave and apologize. Claire extended her hand towards Lando, as if to offer an olive branch of sorts.
“I’m sorry for what I did to you,” she smiled weakly. “I’m sorry for the things I said. I do think you’re a rather good driver—I just wish you could see it for yourself.” Finally, Lando took her hand in his—accepting the apology.
“I’m sorry, too,” he mumbled, as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’m sorry about your dad.” Claire dropped Lando’s hand, then shrugged.
“It’s in the past,” her gaze flickered to Oscar, causing his heart to skip a beat. “It’s time I focus on the future.”
.
* None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.
©️ grogwrites, 2024
Taglist:
@leclercdream @martygraciesversion381 @henna006 @fortunapre @urlocalcemetery
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nolita-fairytale · 1 year ago
Text
burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter nine
summary: you catch up with an old friend and luca makes you dinner.
warnings: fluff, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.
word count: 3.3k
listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist (songs mentioned in chapter are in this playlist!)
a/n: i've always pictured mathilde & jesper as the chalamet siblings AND astrid is in fact played by rina sawayama i don't make the rules (i do). thank you for all comments, reblogs, and screaming at me because we are all obsessed. seriously, it's an honor and i'm just so excited that you all are just as excited as me. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.
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chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten
You spend your first Sunday afternoon without Luca, for the first time in a few weeks, deep cleaning your home. Between your new relationship and your work at the restaurant, you’d found yourself falling behind on chores. But he’d worked the late shift last night, filling in for a cook who called out, which is how you’d ended up with a night and morning of divine alone time. 
With your headphones on, it’s easy to multitask, simultaneously folding clothes while you catch up with your friend, formerly-sister-in-law, over the phone. 
“Anyways, work’s kept me so damn busy that I’ve barely had a moment in my own home but… we are all doing quite alright over here,” she explains, after detailing her travels all across Europe. 
Being a buyer for Nordstrom UK keeps her on the road, or rather, in the sky, at a frequent rate. 
“Well I’m glad you called. It’s good to hear from you. And It’s really good to catch up, Astrid,” you say, smiling to yourself as you finish folding a pile of t-shirts. 
“Well, just because you and Joe didn’t work out doesn’t change anything. You’re still my sister,” she replies, with a small laugh. “We’re family, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t keep a good thing around.”
“Astrid! You know it wasn’t like that,” you protest, though you know it’s all in jest.
“I know,” she sighs, and you can practically hear her rolling her eyes from all the way to England. “Selfishly, I’m just feeling a bit contrary about it, is all. But enough about me. How are you? How’s everything at the restaurant?”
“It’s been great. I… can’t believe that I have a restaurant,” you answer as you shake your head in disbelief.
“God, I’ve gotta get out there soon. I haven’t stopped thinking about that lumache from my last visit – what was it – last November? Yeah, it’s been too long,” Astrid recalls lightheartedly. 
“Yeah, it really has. Just let me know. You know I’m always up for hosting you,” you agree, hopeful that she’ll come visit soon. 
“Besides work, what else’s new? And don’t tell me you’re still just burying yourself in the restaurant because I don’t want to hear it,” she asks, a curious tone in her voice as she segways from work to 
“Well um…” you trail off, treading lightly over the delicate subject. 
The thing you want to tell her about is Luca, because he is what’s new in your life. His presence in your life is evident – it’s in the pair of sweatpants he tossed in with your laundry that you’re folding now, the spare toothbrush you ‘lent’ him that sits right next to yours, and the way that thinking of him makes your heart race. 
You don’t want to lie to her… but you’re also not sure what the etiquette is either. 
It’s not like this is included in the divorcee handbook you never got in the first place. 
“I’m… sort of seeing someone,” you admit, hesitantly. 
“What?!” she gasps, instantly giddy with excitement. “Yeah, we uh…” you hesitate, testing the waters since she seems excited about it. “We’ve been dating for about a month now, maybe.”
“Shut up! That’s mega! How’d you meet? Tell me everything,” she gushes. 
“Well, he actually came into the restaurant. Kind of became a regular and uh…” you explain, and she can hear the smile in your voice as you do. “He’s great. You’ll love this story, actually. He’s also a chef – a pastry chef. One night after coming in, he left a box of croissants for my staff and a handwritten note inviting me to come to the restaurant he works at. It was very….”
“Romantic. Wow…” Astrid adds, too excited for you as she listens. “And a bold move. Knows what he wants. I like him already.”
“Yeah, he’s… he’s really incredible. I swear. He has the patience of a saint, especially as I’ve uh… you know, I’ve been trying to figure this whole… dating after you end your marriage kinda thing,” you continue, chuckling in response to the awkwardness of it all. 
“We were friends actually, for a while. Just friends, which, I know you’ll yell at me about when you see what he looks like. But I think it was good for us, for me, really – to be friends first.”
“Well, now you have to send me a picture,” she requests, even more intrigued as you fiddle with your phone, pulling up a photo you took of Luca the other day. 
You wait a beat. Then another, seeing that the photo has been delivered as Astrid shrieks in your ear. 
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, mate?!” she practically screams. 
“I know,” you squeal. 
“You are absolutely unbelievable,” she shakes her head, staring at the gorgeous blonde on her screen. “How did you not jump right into bed?!”
“Trust me,” you reply, the room suddenly feeling 5 degrees hotter. “After we agreed to start seeing each other, we didn’t wait very long.”
”Sounds like you have a boyfriend,” Astrid comments smugly, as she waits for your reaction. You have expect yourself to panic, but you don’t as you the words tumble out of your mouth. 
“I… it does sound that way, doesn’t it?” you ask her, your voice soft as you reply. 
“Absolutely, my darling,” Astrid replies, before changing the subject. “Okay, so how’s the sex?!”
“Astrid!” you protest with a laugh. “Do you really want to-?”
“Of fucking bloody course I do! Now spill!” she demands. 
You pause, grinning as your cheeks blush. 
“It’s fucking incredible,” you admit, eliciting a giggle from your friend. 
“Shit, babe,” she sighs, contently. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks,” you say back, because you’re pretty damn happy too. “Astrid, will you keep this between us? It’s just that it’s all still so new and….” 
You pause. 
“I just don’t want Joe to hear it from anyone but me.” 
“Of course,” she replies, compassionately, in deep understanding.
“What else are sisters for?”
-------------------------------
You showed up to Luca’s flat uncertain of what to expect, but then he’d pulled you into his home and kissed you like you’d been on his mind all day – and in his defense, you really had. 
“Why don’t you come over Sunday night, then? Let me cook you dinner for a change,” he had suggested as you were figuring out your schedules for the week. 
“You sure you’ll be up for that after working overtime this week?” you’d asked in response. 
“I’ll be alright, love,” he’d answered, like he had unlimited energy when it came to you. 
And even though you’d asked him if you should bring dessert – only to be met with a cheeky comment about you being dessert – you showed up anyway with a matcha basque cheesecake in hand and a deli container filled with a yuzu scented whipped cream to top it with. 
So this is how you find yourself perched on top of Luca’s kitchen island countertop, after having watched his exceptional knife skills for the last thirty. You spend your evening snacking on sliced sourdough bread you’re not sure how he had the time to make, and sip on your glass of red wine while watching him prepare a coq au vin. You swear you’ve got hearts in your eyes when you look at him, watching his muscular, inked forearms flex with how he grips his chef’s knife. As music plays softly in the background, a playlist you can only imagine is the entirety of Luca’s music library put on shuffle, you busy yourself, refilling your wine glass for your second glass of the night. 
“Want another, babe?” you ask him, noticing that he’s on his way to empty as well. 
“Sure. Thank you, my love,” he replies, scooping a handful of chopped carrots up from his cutting board with a bench scraper, depositing them into a small bowl. You watch as Luca picks up his glass of wine and makes his way over to you. 
He hands you the glass, then places a gentle kiss against your lips, a smile spreading across his lips. Luca takes a few steps away so that you can fill his glass again, making a few swift movements to turn the heat down on the gas burner. 
“How was your day?” he asks, while still moving around his kitchen. 
You fill him in on your productive day of chores and catching up with an old friend while Luca listens, busy with removing the pieces of chicken out from the heavy, enameled, cast-iron pot and onto a plate. By the time Luca’s added hot oil to the pot, followed by the chopped carrots and peeled, halved cipollini onions, you’ve caught him up on the long version of Jesper’s latest love-life updates, since he and Claudio have now decided to make it official. 
“So you used to make this with your mom?” you ask curiously, changing the subject as you watch Luca scrape the browned bits off the bottom of the pot. 
He nods in response, stealing a glance your way, his lips turned up into a half smile. 
“Yeah. Most coq au vins can take up to three to four hours, but my mum didn’t have the time,” Luca explains, as you watch him remove the pieces of chicken from out of the heavy, enameled, cast-iron pot and onto a plate. “But it was important for her… to cook for me… to share that ritual with me when she could.” 
The sound of the wine and cognac mixture hitting the hot pan sizzles throughout Luca’s home, your nose filling with the smell of deglazed caramelized bits. 
“And I spent a lot of time as a kid watching the cooking channel, so while we didn’t exactly spend all Sunday cooking a classic French coq au vin, Jamie Oliver’s did the job quite well,” Luca recalls, sharing a piece of his relationship with food with you. 
“Well, it smells incredible,” you say, as he approaches you once more, this time with a full glass of wine in your hands, ready for him. 
As Luca leans in again, the way he kisses you is much more languid, slow, like time is limitless. You breathe him in, completely enamored with the man that’s kissing you, and before anything too wild can happen, he pulls away, leaving you wanting more. Luca smirks, and you swear he knows the effect he has on you. He presses a quick peck to your lips this time, before taking the glass of wine from your hands and heading back to his post in front of the stovetop. 
“This all goes back in,” he continues, using tongs to add the chicken and pancetta bits back into the simmering pot. “Then we braise it in the oven for about… thirty, forty minutes maybe.” 
You raise your glass of wine to your lips, taking a quick sip of the beaujolais you’re using both for the coq au vin and to unwind, listening as the song changes in the background, instantly recognizing the drum pattern. The corners of your lips turn up into a smile as you close your eyes, enjoying the familiarity of the song as you say:
“God, I love this song.”
Luca smiles, “It’s a classic. Great song.” 
Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick
The one that makes me scream, she said
The one that makes me laugh, she said
Threw her arms around my neck
“You know, I saw them when I was in my early 20s. It was just me and a bunch of somebody’s dads,” you grin, in reference to The Cure. 
Luca chuckles at your comment, before asking, “Did you really?” 
“Yes. And when they came out on stage, smoke machine and all, I wept because it was the fulfillment of a childhood dream – to see them. I… was a bit of an angsty teen,” you answer, raising your wine glass to your lips once more. 
“Think we all had an angsty phase, more or less. Mine was less pining to The Cure and more stirrin’ up trouble,” Luca admits, lightheartedly. 
“Again, and I’m holding you to it. You promised me pictures,” you remind him with aplomb. 
“I did, yeah,” he chuckles, shyly, with a sigh of resignation. 
You focus on enjoying one of your favorite songs and sipping on your glass of wine, as you watch Luca put the enameled cast-iron plot, full of the ready-to-braise coq au vin, into the oven. 
Comfortable silences between you and Luca have become more frequent. There are days that all you want to do is stay up till the early hours of the morning talking and kissing and fucking, and there are others that you love leaning into the quiet intimacy that seems to be developing between you. It’s almost as if you’ve forgotten what this feels like – the excitement of something new where you’re learning so much about each other and everything feels like the first time. 
It’s thrilling and it’s also safe. 
Luca makes you feel safe, and you can’t imagine doing this with anyone else but him. 
For a first time relationship, post-divorce, you really hit the jackpot, you think to yourself. 
Luca continues moving around the kitchen, drinking his wine in between clean up tasks, as if he’s at work, hell bent on keeping his station clean. He’s much better than you are at that, you observe, as he does a few dishes that he’s used up, instead of leaving them in the sink for tomorrow. 
As he dries his hands on a dish towel, the song changes, and the opening notes of Beyonce’s Love On Top begin playing. You smile as you hear the undeniable: 
Bring the beat in!
“Alright, mate. Hear me out,” Luca proposes, spinning around with excitement. “And I don’t say this lightly. But this. This is one of the greatest songs of all time.” 
“I-I’m sorry,” you giggle as you watch Luca dance to the song in his kitchen with a smoothness that’s somehow simultaneously a little silly. 
“What? You don’t agree?” he asks, shooting you a look as he ball changes towards you, earning another laugh from you. 
“No, I do. I love this song,” you grin from ear to ear. “I’m just so tickled by the fact that you love this song.”
“It’s Beyonce,” he defends, in his best ‘well-duh’ kind of tone, gesturing wildly. “C’mon. Let’s dance.” 
“Wh-,” you begin to say, before Luca’s practically pulling you off of the counter to join him. “Luca!!”
But he’s not having any of your protests as he wraps his arms around you. You hang onto him, holding him close as he leads you in a silly uptempo kind of dance, spinning and turning you with him in a way that has you in a fit of giggles. The two of you stumble from his kitchen into the living space area as you move together, embracing how goofy and ridiculous you both feel. 
Luca sings along softly, something you get a better listen to as soon as he’s pulling you close to him. 
“What the fuck!” you practically shriek, your jaw practically on the floor. 
“Hmm?” he hums in response, unphased by your outburst. 
“You’re unfuckingreal,” you balk, as you listen to him hum along to the Beyonce song. “I mean. You-, like, you look like this, you’re great in bed, and you have a nice singing voice? How-, how’s a girl ever supposed to stand a chance?” 
He chuckles, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, sending chills down your spine as he coos, teasingly, “I’m great in the sack, hmm?” 
Your heart skips a beat as you pull back, just enough to look into the eyes of your lover as you say, “Oh fuck off.”
He laughs again, this time, leaving a soft kiss against your ear, hugging you closer to him as you slow your dance down as the song begins to end. There’s a pause between this and the next song, providing the perfect opportunity for Luca to answer your earlier question. 
“You weren’t,” Luca replies, his voice quiet but sure. Supposed to stand a chance, he means. “I think we were supposed to meet. Supposed to be here.”
Supposed to fall in love. 
He leans down to kiss you as the next song begins, transitioning into a much bluesier sound. The crooning sounds of Etta James blast from Luca’s living room speakers, as you smile into the kiss. You groan, your heart aching in the best way as kiss him to:
I want a Sunday kind of love
A love to last past Saturday night
And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight
And I want a Sunday kind of love, oh yeah, yeah
“My God. I think tonight’s shuffle is proof that you may just have the most versatile taste in music history,” you mumble, pulling away for a moment from the kiss. 
As you open your eyes, Luca’s just admiring you, an awestruck look on his face that steals your breath. No longer able to deflect with humor or anything else really, you lay your head on his chest, settling into the soft swaying motion of the dance that you and Luca have fallen into. Your arms go around his neck once more as Luca holds you close to him, making a mental note to remember this forever. 
“How did you know?” you ask Luca, softly. 
“What’s that, love?” he asks back. 
“You said that you thought we might be good at this. At… at an ‘us.’ When we talked about starting to see each other,” you begin, choosing your words carefully, underscored by the violins of the song. 
Luca takes a deep breath admitting that, “I didn’t.” 
“What do you mean?” you ask, looking up at him, your eyes full of adoration for the man that’s captured your heart.
“Babe, I-,” he starts, letting out a small laugh. “I knew we got on well. And that I liked you. And I thought… if we got on this well as friends and you felt the same, that we could give it a go. See what happens.” He takes a beat, choosing his words, before continuing with: 
“But, my love, I can’t predict the future. It could work out in the long run, it could not. But I wanted-, I want to see how far we can take it.”
You take a deep breath, because this conversation is deep-breath worthy. 
Notorious for wanting to read the last page of a book first, you know he’s right, that you can’t predict the future, and you, now just as much as he does, would like to see how far this could go. 
“Yeah it-, that makes complete sense,” you stammer, feeling incredibly vulnerable all of a sudden. You rest your head against his chest again, settling back into your slow sway to the beat. 
Like clockwork, the song ends, something a little more upbeat trickling in through the speakers. You and Luca remain in each others’ arms, content to stay here forever. You’re amazed at his confidence, at his fearlessness to take a chance on love, and you think to yourself, he might be teaching you some of that too. 
“Let’s take a trip together,” Luca suggests, the low resonance of his voice cutting through the quiet. “Maybe end of the month or something. An end of summer trip.” He chuckles, a hand coming up to stroke your hair as you enjoy the way his voice vibrates in his chest. 
“Fuck it. I could care less if we make it in time for the end of summer. Let’s just get out of the city together.” 
“That sounds spectacular,” you answer. 
And it’s there, in Luca’s arms after a dance party for two, that you think to yourself, you couldn’t be happier.
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wannabanauthor · 5 months ago
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The little nuances of BuckTommy always gets to me. I’ve rewatched their first kiss scene nearly everyday. Seriously, it’s my bedtime routine to watch it multiple times before going to bed.
Anyway
It takes pictures of that scene for me to realize how fucking scared and terrified Tommy was after their first kiss. He’s able to exhale, but the look on his face was so serious and scared. He knew what a huge risk it was to kiss Buck (known womanizer who used to have sex in the fire engine), but he did it anyway. He didn’t even have a hint of a smile until Buck says “yeah, that works”. Then he smile slightly and asks if the kiss was okay because he can’t help but feel giddy.
I do love that Tommy likes to pretend to be the overt confident one, and it works for Buck because he believes it without a second thought. But seeing Tommy’s confidence shaken for a few seconds was gold to me! It makes him human and endearing. It also illustrates that even though he’s been out and around the block a few times, there’s still that fear that even in LA (a city that pretends to be progressive yet is trying to get rid of homeless people for the Olympics), he could be in danger of homophobia. Yet he thinks and is correct that he’s collected enough evidence to prove that Buck is into him, yet it’s still a leap.
I love Tommy Kinard so much.
Now onto his soulmate, Evan Buckley:
Nearly every single scene or moment before the first kiss, Buck is smiling at Tommy.
In the helicopter, smiling at Tommy.
After Bathena is reunited, Buck is touching Tommy and smiling at him.
During the tour, lots of smiling.
During the basketball scene when they chat at the beginning, Buck is smiling so hard at Tommy. The way he smiles so big when Tommy fist bumps him, and the way his eyes follow Tommy onto the basketball court. God, Buck was crushing so hard.
Even when Tommy showed up to the loft to talk to him, Buck’s first expression (or one of the firsts) was elation. He got Tommy’s attention. Sure, he showed up to Buck’s home unannounced, but Buck was internally happy. He tried to play it off like it was nothing and tried to act surprised, but secretly he was like “yes, I’ve gotten his attention”, but then there was the confused look when he closed the door.
His expression of “I wanted this so badly, but now that he’s here I don’t know what to do” but good thing Tommy had a conversation topic on mind and a schedule to keep.
I swear, sometimes, I think Tommy plans for his interactions with Buck to be kept short so he can seem even more cool when he has to leave. I’m totally not projecting my own method of flirting of “hey look at all the cool plans I have, don’t you want to spend time with me”.
Back to the point:
Even after the kiss, Buck was elated again when Tommy asked him out. His face was so pure and excited when he said “Yes, I’m free”. He finally got what he wanted, and he wanted it even after the kiss. He was ready to be Tommy’s one and only.
Actually, Buck reminds me of that shark post of when lemon sharks get jealous of tiger sharks who befriend the lemon shark’s human scuba diver friend. Idk if it’s actually true about sharks, but that is clearly Evan Buckley coded. Let me find that picture…
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Yep, this is definitely Evan Buckley when it comes to Tommy 🤣
I don’t even remember what my original point of this post was, oops.
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