#it would be the perfect friend for my soup-making
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pommatre · 4 months ago
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I should get into bread-making
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hurtspideyparker · 7 months ago
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In a timeline where Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lives in the compound:
Steve, walking into the living room: Don't worry Buck I think you'll really fit in around here. Everyone is super nice
Peter: Oh my god you're living here too?! Can I please look at your arm? Please please please please please-
Bucky: *turns around and leaves*
-
Clint: So... wanna test if your spider-sense defeats my perfect aim?
Peter: Oh my god do I ever
Tony & Steve: NO.
-
Peter: Hi. Big fan. Y'know we're like a spider duo. Crime fighting spiders. Arachnid pals
Natasha, staring blankly:
Peter: Web friends? SPY-ders?
Natasha:
Peter: Spinneret associates?
Natasha: Leave.
Peter: Yes okay sorry ma'am
-
During a meal:
Bucky: *glaring at Sam*
Sam: Ay Rogers come get your dog
Steve: Bucky, leave it
Bucky: *glares down at soup instead*
-
Peter: Mr. Rogers could you help me with my homework?
Tony: What the hell kid, I'm right here
Bruce: I have... so many degrees
Steve: Hey I know a thing or two myself. Sure Queens, what do you got?
Peter: Great! I'm just gonna ask some questions for my essay. What would you say the role of war propaganda was in your decision to enroll in the military? Was being poor a factor? Actually, how was the Great Depression for you?
Steve: Less depressing than this conversation.
-
Steve: Take a jacket, it's chilly
Wanda: Okay thanks dad
Steve:
Wanda:
Peter: Ha! That's so embarrassing, it's like calling your teacher dad
Wanda: Shut up Peter, you call Tony dad all the time
Peter: Yeah but I do it on purpose so it's not embarrassing. I'm very open about my daddy issues
-
Tony: I wanna punch you in your perfect teeth
Steve:
Tony: Looking at me with your angelic blue eyes, like a freak
Steve:
Tony: Stupid Dorito ass build. Making me wanna take a bite
Steve: I feel harassed but I'm not sure what kind
-
Natasha: Hey bird brain!
Clint and Sam both turn:
Natasha: Hm, that's a problem. You have thirty seconds to decide who gets bird brain. The other will be feather head
Clint and Sam: *start arguing*
Tony: I can't believe they're fighting to be called an insult
Steve: She has that effect on people
Peter: Aw man, I wish the Black Widow gave me a nickname :(
-
Peter: Hey old man
Bucky:
Peter: I'M SO SORRY SIR MR. WILSON MADE ME DO IT PLEASE DONT KILL ME
Sam: *cackling in the background*
Bucky: *stands up and turns to Sam*
Sam: Oh shit- kid you're not getting the money if you're gonna snitch!
Peter: That's okay, I'd like to think my life is worth more than twenty bucks
-
Bucky: I need your... help
Tony: Sure, what's up?
Bucky: *glances back at Steve who stands in the doorway and nods approvingly*
Bucky: Arm.
Tony: Ok... this conversation is killing you isn't it?
Bucky:
Tony: Say please
Bucky: Nope can't do it-
Steve: Do I need to get out the get-along shirt?
*Bucky and Tony share a look of alarm*
Bucky: Please fix my arm
Tony: Yep of course no problem buddy
-
Read Part 2 and Part 3
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ridingthatd · 1 year ago
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❝𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎❞
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𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓
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manipulative!geto ✘ fem!reader
summary: geto is one of your innocent friends, what happens when you get stuck in a cabin with him alone since your boyfriend gojo can't make it?, will he stay so innocent?
warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, cabin sex, perv!geto, fingering, squirting, nastiness, geto gets what he wants, gojo is your boyfriend, manipulation, obsession.
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today is the day. today is the day geto will get what he wants. today is the day geto will get what he dreamed of. today is the day geto gets to live his little nasty fantasy. today is the day geto will finally get to feel your soft, plump body against his- that's if, if only if everything goes according to his plan, and be demanded getos plans will always work.
"ah here you are suguru!" you slowly wave your hand at geto as he makes his way toward your cabin, the cabin where you and gojo have been living for the past few months, he would be lying if he said he isn't jealous of his dear childhood friend. keeping you all to himself. gojo and geto have always shared everything, even the stupid childish dream about living without curses- they both shared it, so what about you? why is saturo so selfish that he can't share you with him?.
part of geto doesn't blame his friend because if he had you. he would split the ocean in half before giving you to anyone.
geto smiles softly at you. waving back, he smiles even wider once he sees the way you're hopping from leg to leg- clearly just as excited as he is to meet you.
"careful y/n don't want you hurting yourself on my watch." he speaks out once he's in a close distance to get a good look at the gorgeous goddess in front of him, cheeks flushed from hopping around, grinning from ear to ear, hair slightly messy because of the cold breeze that's hitting both of you.
you playfully role your eyes "don't worry suguru I'm a grown woman, of course i wouldn't hurt myself in such a silly way like you do." getos cheeks flush remembering the embarrassing moments of him being clumsy around you.
"aw your ears are getting red no need to be embarrassed geto" you say while gently rubbing his ear between your finger tips- trying to rub his redness away. getos breath hitch this little act of yours, you have no idea- no idea what you do to your so called "sweet" suguru.
"im not embarrassed, it's just because it's cold outside" geto mumbles, you let out a little mhm while you move your hand away folding them close to your body, making your breast slightly peark up."if you so say, now get inside don't want you catching a cold on my watch" you say teasingly micking him- now it's his turn to roll his eyes at you.
both of you make it inside the warm cabin, it wasn't to small or to big, it was just enough the perfect size for two new happy couple. it was the perfect size to cuddle and fuck in, if geto was the one with you here- he would have fucked you in every inch of this cabin, print his cock in you everywhere, claim you in every inch so everytime he isn't here, you would remember the way he fucked you in every corner- but today there isn't ifs because he's gonna make it happen, after all he's geto.
you happily sip the last bit of the soup geto has made for both you.
"I didn't know you were a chef suguru- I guess every day the huge brain of yours learn something new". geto blushes a little before snorting at your little comment about his brain "it's nothing special, it's just a soup recipe I learned from my grandpa, that he used to make when I was sick" he says while staring at the way you happily rub at your cute little tummy, that he has noticed grew a little since the last time he saw you- it's not that he minds oh no it makes him more eager to touch you- to squeeze your little stomach while he eats you out, holding you in place by your tummy.
"still it made both of me and my baby happy" you say cheekly not realizing what you just said till geto drops his spoon.
"y... your baby?" geto repeats making sure he heard you right, making you realize what you just said- your eyes widen and you stand up quickly making the chair you were sat on fall with a thud.
"NO- oh god no im not pregnant or anything!" you hurriedly say as if geto thinking your pregnant is your hugest fear, he stare at you confused.
"then why did you-" he was cut off by you "it's just me and gojo been acting as if im pregnant and saying cheesy stuff-" you say as if that makes any sense "I don't know why but it's been gojos new thing to act as if im pregnant so it just rubbed off on me I guess" you mumble hoping the big guy would understand what you mean- you finally got the courage to look up at him, and it catches you off surprise what you see- you have never seen geto with such a dark expression on his face, he was clenching his hand into a fist under the table. you were not sure what to say.
so that's what gojo been up to huh. breeding his lovely y/n. trapping you so he won't be able to have you. the thought of that made geto fume in rage, how many times have gojo fucked you and breed you full with his cum? how many times have gojo planted his seed inside of you pretending to impregnate you? geto won't let this happen, and tonight he will make sure of it. by marking his seed inside of you before gojo gets to steal that from him.
"it's.. it's fine it just got me off guard that you guys would have kept something as big as you being pregnant from me" geto stares at you with sad eyes- he has to keep the innocent act till he gets what he wants, he wasn't entirely lying. it would make him really upset if you guys kept such thing hidden from him.
"no no no no suguru- you know you would be the first person we would tell if that ever happens right?" you say panickly "yea I know".
soon after the sun has disappeared and a gloomy dark weather has appeared- you had always since childhood hated rain and thunder, of course geto knew that- this is why he's here today. this is why he made a specific plan to be here at this time, at this weather, and mostly at a time where gojo wouldn't be around.
you stare at the window as your hear the soft drops of rain starting to fall- you frown "saturo won't make it today with such weather" you worriedly say and of course geto knew that I mean after all it was part of his plan-"yea looks like it".
loud thunder and heavy rain sounds fill the room. under the darkness of this room it lights up each time. after every thunder to, show a glimpse of you and geto laying together with only 1 blanket. 1 pillow. 1 bed.
"im sorry geto-its just... you know i can't handle the thunder" you softly whipser, shuffling next to him. of course again geto knew that, he knew that you would get scared to be alone in your room, he knew that you'd come to him seeking for comfort, and he knew he would give you that with no hesitation.
"it's alright. it's just like back when we were kids right?" geto mumbles shifting to turn around and look at your curled up back shivering from discomfort of the loud thunder. he slowly stretch his arms towards you. fingers itching to feel the warmth of you, once he reachs you- you stiff unsure how to feel about that "geto-" you were cut off by him shushing you gently while hooking his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest.
"shhhh it's okay. im here everything is going to be okay" he softly rock you against his chest-pressing your whole body warmth against his and god it felt so good to have you this close. finally he thought while pressing his nose against your hair- taking a deep breath of the cherry smell of your hair. finally he thought again. finally he can have you while slowly trailing his nose against your ear going lower and lower. finally he thought once more. finally he can get to mark his sweet little y/n.
"geto-" you breath out once more, feeling your childhood friend press his front against you- gently sucking your earlobe in his mouth, coating it with his warm spit.
"what are you doing-" you gently tug, trying to escape his grasp- not realizing you accidentally rubbed your ass on his already ragging hard on. geto hiss, realising your now spit-covered earlobe from his mouth "careful- don't want me cumming in my pants just yet". you gasp you have never thought such a dirty words would come out of your dark haired innocent friend.
a loud thunder seems to snap you out to reality, you flinch at how loud it was- you couldn't even fully react because geto was already shushing you and gently rubbing your belly. "shhh it's okay baby I know, I know just let me take care of this okay hm? let me make you forget about this- you don't have to do anything just lay close to me while I make you feel so so so good, that you won't have to worry about the silly little thunder hm?"
you were confused, scared, shakey about what's happening this is why you hated rainy days because they always make you go blank- weak can't do anything, you didn't even realize that you were crying until you felt geto licking away a tear that dropped from your eye. his tongue felt warm and wet against your cold cheek.
"aw my little baby- don't cry I will take care of you, don't worry" he gently whispered still soothing your belly the only difference is that his hands are now under your shirt- making skin to skin contact with it. his hand felt so warm and comforting that you simply just sniffle and node to scared and confused to do anything else.
"such a good girl for me" geto mumbles against your neck while slowly lowering his hand from your belly- to your underwear trailing soft circles on top of your underwear.
he can feel your sweet little pussy throbbing under his hand- such a sweet pussy even through confusion your pussy is still so eager for him. he flickes your underwear up and slide his hand under- his groan is muffled by your neck, as he suck on it leaving a redish purple mark covered with his drool behind. he can feel how sticky and warm you were plusing under his touch- clenching around nothing so ready for one of his long fingers to slide right into your warmth.
he starts sucking on your delicate neck drung off the smell of you, as he rubes gentle circles on your clit- you let a whimper, you let out the sweetest whimper he ever heard. it made him go crazy because it finally hits him. he's making you his. he's making you feel good. he's touching your pussy. so warm so sticky so wet, he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips against your ass basically humping your ass while fingering you.
he goes faster. more aggressive- you couldn't help the loud whine that left you. clear warm liquid gushing out of you, coating his finger, he starts to hump you faster he can practically feel his percum soaking through his boxer.
he suddenly flips you into your back- him on top of you, earning a gasp out of you- you finally caught a look at him. he didn't look like the sweet geto you knew, he looked like an animal waiting to rut, his hair is messy, cheeks flushed, drool leaving his mouth and coating his puffy red lips. you couldn't help your gaze going down- he was huge who knew geto could hold such a weapon between his legs.
Impatiencly he slides your shorts and underwear off- he couldn't wait more to take a look at the sweet puffy pussy of yours. once it was free he left out a long groan- head dropping to take a closer look while hooking your legs around his shoulder.
"fuck y/n- look what the sight of your wet pussy do to me" he shakily says palming his dick out of his boxers. he was indeed huge, the long distance between the darkish hair around his base and the top but what caught your attention is the hot pink head and the white percum leaking out of it. it was a breathtaking sight you couldn't deny.
geto is shaking- he doesn't know why. is he shaking from excitement. is he shaking from how nasty he is. is he shaking because he knows it's fucked up or is he shaking because he can't wait to eat the wet creamy pussy in front of him- he doesn't waste any more time and dig right into his meal.
the thunder is long gone. it stopped and the only sound left in this room was the wet, sucking and licking sounds your pussy is geto slowly raise his head, you thought he was finished but the way he holds your eyes tells you something different- he maintain eye contact while slowly spitting, letting the drool leave his mouth and land directly on your clit. this time it was you who couldn't hold out your moan. once he started to suck on your clit again it's over for you.
you squirt all over his face, clear liquid gushing out of your pretty pussy- geto couldn't believe it, but that didn't stop him from opening his mouth and letting all the squirt go directly into his mouth. it's like he's drinking out of a holy fountain of a goddess, and this sent him over the edge- white hot cum spurts out of his angry dick and lend on your thighs.
your body was shaking, you could barely keep your eyes open after this. the only thing you heard before falling into deep sleep was "rest y/n because we're not done yet".
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maruflix · 2 months ago
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YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS (IT MAKES ME SO MAD!) #oneshot #hoshinasoshiro #f!reader
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hoshina is unfamiliar with the concept of personal space. unluckily for you, the huge crush you have on your vice captain is the least of your worries when he keeps catching you absolutely losing it. / REQ.
feat. hoshina soshiro  ⎯⎯ wc. 2.0k
contents: female reader, reader is an officer in the third division, fluff, stoic reader, reader cannot express her feelings, not-so-oblivious hoshina, kissing
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When any kind of problem arises, the Third Division knows three things for sure:
Go get Captain Mina Ashiro to solve the problem for you.
If she’s busy with other important stuff, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro will do.
Should the Vice Captain be unavailable as well, look for Platoon Leader Y/N instead.
You don’t mind being busy— you’re happy to know that your fellow soldiers look for you in times of need. The thing is, sometimes people look for you to ask you where the Vice Captain is.
... and you hate Hoshina Soshiro.
It might surprise people to know that you’re able to feel emotions as strong as hate. You’re a naturally stoic person after all.
No noise readies you, no words shake you out of yourself, no person makes your emotions fluctuate — but Hoshina Soshiro is the only exception.
When other people would get discouraged to get close to you because of your lack of emotions, Soshiro is always at ease near you, like the two of you have been friends for a long time.
The way he smiles, the way he runs a hand through his hair, the way he stands— he’s so gorgeous it makes you so mad.
Like right now; the sound of blades clashing against each other rings in your ears as you try hard not to gape at the glorious display in front of you.
Kafka, huffing and puffing with sweat all over him as he desperately tries to keep up with his opponent, while Soshiro moves around with grace, delivering blows that seem so elegant and yet is enough to make Kafka stumble around like a puppet.
You watch, unsurprised, when Kafka falls down ungracefully, butt planted on the floor. Soshiro’s mouth starts moving (probably giving him some pointers) but all you can think about is how perfect he looks as a bead of sweat trails down his neck.
“Hey, it’s your turn.” Kikoru elbows you rather hard, making you snap out of your trance. Your face falls in an immediate deadpan as you stand up, passing by a dejected Kafka.
Soshiro smiles at you, seemingly unaffected by his earlier spar. “Oh no, I’m gonna have to open my eyes for this.”
He says it loud enough for everyone to hear and your heart leaps.
The spar lasted longer than the one with Kafka, but it still ended up with you losing. Well, there’s a reason he’s the Vice Captain and you’re the Platoon Leader.
As a competitive person, you should be angry for losing— but how could you, when Soshiro pulls you up and pats you in the back?
“You’re a great fighter. I might hafta to sit down and take a break.”
The poker face you successfully maintained should’ve given you a goddamn Grammy.
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Soshiro spots you in the cafetaria and immediately makes a beeline to your table.
“’scuse me, coming through!”
The surprise in your eyes is gone as quickly as it appears. The entire table greets him warmly while you continue to eat. Soshiro smiles, sitting down next to you as Kafka scrambles to get out of his way.
Reno is trying to strike up conversation, but his only focus is on you. You seem so unconcerned about everything. He likes that about you too, but he wishes you’d let down your guard with him. How could he know whether you liked him or not? — not that he’d stop trying to get your attention.
Soshiro eating the rest of his apple while he watches you slurp down the last remains of your soup. Even when you eat, you look absolutely divine.
Just then, a lock of hair falls down your face, hanging dangerously close to your food. He instinctively reaches out to brush it out of your face.
“Whoops, wouldn’t wanna get that in the soup.”
Soshiro is aware of the stares he got from his subordinates, but seeing those beautiful eyes of yours look at him makes it worth it. Shocked, he watches as your eyes flash through different emotions before finally returning to its usual calm state.
“E-excuse me.” You didn’t give him time to speak before standing up and walking away.
“Wait!”
Did he just hear a stutter?
You walk fast, but Soshiro managed to keep a comfortable distance away from you. He lets you put away the tray of food and is about to call your name when you disappear inside the toilet.
He halts, opting to wait for you, resting his back against the wall. Then he hears something weird.
“AARRGGGHH!!!”
Posture immediately straight, his body involuntarily jerks to the sound of the scream, wanting to check out if you’re okay. Because it’s the sound of your scream.
He doesn’t have to, because at that moment the door swings open and you walk out of the toilet.
Red-faced.
He’s still standing in stunned silence when you slap a hand to your mouth and run away.
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If Soshiro wasn’t worried before, he’s definitely worried now.
You keep avoiding him throughout the rest of the day. When you cross paths, you would refuse to look at him in the face. You’d only give him a halfhearted salute before fleeing.
The thing that bothers him is how hot and bothered you look. Are you feeling under the weather? Soshiro knows how hardworking you are, so he’s worried that you’re forcing yourself to work even though you’re sick.
“Platoon Leader, come here for a sec.”
You begrudgingly make your way to him, still not looking at him in the eyes. Fidgeting, sweating, and looking very, very bothered.
“Platoon Leader, are you sick?”
“No, sir.”
“Excuse me.” is his only warning before he presses his palm against your forehead.
Surprisingly, your temperature is... normal?
“W-what the-” Flinching, you make a big reaction and jerk away from his hand. Still, your face is calm. “If that’s all, I’ll take my leave.”
Soshiro sighs as you speedwalk away. Temperature aside, he’s 101% sure that you’re sick. After all, why else would your face be so red?
Unless...
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You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. Because there is no goddamn way Soshiro just touched your face.
You have no clue where you’re walking. You just wanted to get away from the only person who’s able to make you lose your cool. So you head outside, to the gardens. You pass by Haruichi on the way there.
“Hey, have you seen the Vice Captain around?” He calls out after you, making you want to scream in frustration.
Can people stop making you remember the existence of the drop dead gorgeous Hoshina Soshiro?!
“I don’t know! Maybe China!”
Haruichi looks very confused. You brush past him.
Full of nerves and unsure what to do, you finally sit down on a bench to catch your breath. You can still feel his fingertips on your forehead and see the worried expression in his handsome face.
He’s worried about you. You’re about to bury your head in your hands and squeal when you catch sight of the very same man walking towards you.
Like a cue, the mask is back on. You wanted to pat yourself in the back for how quickly you’re able to gather your composure. You’d rather die than embarrass yourself in front of your crush... although you just did that when you walked out to a surprised Soshiro.
He didn’t hear you scream, did he?
Did he?
You stand up as Soshiro stops next to you. He’s smiling his usual smile, but something is eerie about it. Like he knows a secret.
“Can I test something?”
You blink once. Twice. Then you nod.
“Walk with me.”
You follow him, puzzled.
Suddenly, he loops a hand around your shoulders.
Your heart misses a beat and you nearly stumble, but you catch yourself with sheer willpower. The stoic expression is getting harder to maintain, the smile on your lips itching to blossom.
“What... why?”
There are chills running down your back when you look up at Soshiro. His smile is wider now, like he absolutely knows a secret.
He absolutely knows.
You break free and run for your life.
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Soshiro feels kinda guilty now. He didn’t mean to fluster you so much; he just felt so happy and flattered that he actually managed to make you blush.
That’s why he’s making his way to your quarters, hoping to apologize for teasing you too much today. Soshiro has loved you for many months now; he has no problems taking it slow until you’re ready to trust him with all your emotions.
The door is slightly ajar, so he pushes it open quietly, not wanting to alarm you. He’s about to knock on it to signal his presence when he sees the state you’re in.
Facing away from the door, your body is half slumped on the floor and half on the bed. You’re clutching a giant pillow to your face.
“AAARRRRGGGMMMM” Without warning, you scream, the sound drowned out by the pillow you’re burying your head into.
His mouth drops open but it quickly stretches into a smile.
You raise your head, revealing your blushing face, before slamming it down on the pillow again. A string of unintelligible noises follow soon after.
He clears his throat.
You pause mid grumble and the air is still. Slowly raising your head, you turn your head to the door. The two of you lock eyes.
“Vice Captain! Get out!”
Instead of getting out, Soshiro lets himself in and closes the door behind him. He chuckles at your terrified expression, finally seeing an emotion other than complete indifference.
“So you’re really not sick? Just blushin’ around me?”
You gape, looking very offended but unable to counter him.
“Oh, good. I thought my crush was unrequited.”
Your eyes widen.
“Hey, can I kiss ya?”
“Wh-what?!”
“Sorry. You just look so cute right now. Is that a no..?”
Soshiro moves closer, now kneeling down in front of you. A teasing smile is still present on his features. Gently, he strokes his thumb down the right side of your lips. Gauging your reactions.
You didn’t want to give him any, but even a great actress needs her breaks. A shy smile breaks through your cold facade, and Soshiro beams.
“Oh, this is so cute. I must kiss ya now.”
You don’t know where to look, eyes flitting everywhere but him, but you let him lean into you until you can feel his breaths against your skin.
“W-wait,” you gasp meekly. Soshiro’s other hand is around your waist now. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
Soshiro shivers in anticipation. “That’s okay,” he whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “just follow my lead.” And he presses his lips against yours.
It’s so cute how shy you are, so much so that you’re trembling under his touch. He’s pretty sure he heard a whimper when he tightens his hold on your waist. It takes everything in him to control himself when you tilt your head back, parting your lips a bit further for him.
You don’t know how long time has passed because your head is still in the clouds even after he pulls away. It’s embarrassing how a simple kiss leaves you a mess; your breaths ragged and cheeks flushed.
You, who’s usually so stoic, calm and composed, looking like this under him—
“I want to say that I’ll stop teasing you, but I would be lying.” Soshiro grins when you bury your face in his chest.
You’re sulking a bit now. How dare he make you look like a complete idiot. “Whatever. You won’t get another reaction out of me anyway.”
“Is that a challenge?”
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After that, he tries to get your attention every time you’re in the same space as each other. He’ll tease you, praise you, sling an arm around your shoulders, hold your things out of reach, all that just to get a rise out of you.
Of course, everyone knows he’s down bad. He acts like a schoolboy trying to get attention from his crush in all the wrong ways. So now even more people ask you about Soshiro; where he is, what he’s doing, like they’re completely convinced you two are an item.
Well, you are.
But with so many people teasing you about your relationship, it’s getting hard to hide behind a calm face. You smile a lot more often, especially when he’s around. Your reputation as the division’s most calm and composed soldier quickly fades into memory. At least you got yourself a hot boyfriend...?
Oh well. You win some, you lose some.
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flemingology · 1 month ago
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christmas request - you get sexy christmas lingerie and surprise leah with a lapdance (which inevitably leads to smut)
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unwrapping you ─ leah williamson x reader
part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!
in which: you leave leah's best surprise for last
warnings: implied smut (18+), lap dance, language but also a whole load of fluff
wc: 3.9k
a/n: most unrealistic part in this fic is chicken soup and sandwiches being one of leah fav foods (god forbid that woman eats something colored). in other words... how does one write a lap dance????? this is not full-blown smut. i didn't really feel like including that in this series, but i hope i still did your request justice. <3
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Your first Christmas with Leah had been perfect.
Your lover woke you up this morning to breakfast in bed, Leah wanting to make use of the fact she finally perfected the one recipe she knew – fluffy pancakes. You thanked her accordingly with a couple fierce kisses that soon turned into way more than either of you had planned, the two of you finally rolling out of bed a good two hours later, messy hair and flushed cheeks a testament to what you had been up to in bed.
You took a warm shower together, and then set foot outside for a light Sunday morning stroll through London's Christmas markets. You walked side by side, one hand occupied with holding Leah's, other hand nursing a hot chocolate. You took your time on each stall, admiring all the handmade ornaments, pieces of clothing and so many other things that were up for sale. You managed not to spend too much, not getting anything more than a small extra present for your sister and a cute little ornament you would add to your table decoration for the team dinner on New Year's Day.
Back home, you made a quick lunch. You heated up some leftovers from the night before, when you made chicken soup and some sandwiches, one of Leah's self-proclaimed favorite dishes that you made. You spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about, gliding from one Friends episode into the other, drifting in and out of sleep in each other's arms on the couch.
It wasn't until evening came around though, that the best part of the day took place. You had kept the best for last; the presents. Normally you weren't one to wait for the evening, but Leah claimed that it would be cozier, and you had to agree. Your apartment was coated in a warm glow from the mood lighting all around, a couple vanilla-scented candles adding to the cozy atmosphere, you and your blonde lover cuddled up on the couch, a pile of unopened presents ready to be attacked on your coffee table.
As promise to one another, neither of you went overboard. Leah had quite the tendency to spoil you, but you wanted none of that. And to your surprise, she actually stuck to her promise. There were 5 presents on the coffee table; 2 for your girlfriend and 3 for you. Unbeknownst to Leah, though, her 3rd and arguably best present of the night, was already unpacked and waiting for her under your layer of clothes.
A couple days ago, while Leah was at training, you ventured out into the busy streets of London for a final surprise for your girlfriend. You were more than happy with the two presents you had at hand, but you couldn't shake the thought in your mind that had been there for the past couple of weeks, to buy a new set of red, lace lingerie – one that you knew would drive her completely nuts.
So with that secret in mind, you and Leah started opening your presents. She insisted you opened the first one.
"For you, my love," she said, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as she handed you the first of her presents, the smallest one. You inspected the envelope, not able to make much from it on first glance. It looked elegant, though, a golden glow coming from the paper. You carefully opened the envelope, revealing a light green card with pastel accents. You couldn't really figure out what it was just yet, but with a little nudging from your girlfriend in the right direction, your eyes lit up as it dawned on you. "You booked us a weekend away?"
Leah nodded, a soft hum leaving her lips. "I know you've been wanting to get away for a little while," she started, taking one of your hands in hers. "I've been busy. You've been busy. But we can take a couple days for ourselves and for us. It'll be nice." Leah had a tentative look on her face, her eyes scanning yours, as if she was gauging whether you were actually happy with this.
Leah was right. The two of you had been extremely busy lately – your girlfriend's football schedule ramping up, and it seemed like the winter months had brought an influx of people wanting to buy estate, leaving you with a tremendous amount of work that you more often than not also took home.
You quickly gave Leah a fierce nod after you realized you got caught up in your thoughts, leaning towards her and pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "Thank you, I love this. I love you. We need it. It'll be good," you mumbled against her lips, your hand cupping her cheek and giving her another peck before you pulled away.
"My turn," you said excitedly. You grabbed the smallest one, a square box delicately wrapped in an elegant-looking black wrapping paper with silver accents. "This looks neat," Leah chuckled, and you bit your lip in apprehension as you handed her your first present. Unlike you, Leah wasn't so delicate with unwrapping presents. She was all ripping and tearing, nothing graceful about her movements. She'd never been a patient one when it came to things like these, and in all fairness, you couldn't blame her. Forever a kid at heart, Leah loved presents.
You got pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a faint gasp escaping your lover's throat. You searched Leah's eyes for any emotion but you couldn't read it, your heart starting to beat a little faster. "Babe, this is...," Leah inspected her present a little closer, "this is gorgeous." She carefully lifted the golden watch out of it's holder and held it in the light, the timepiece brightly reflecting the cozy hue in your apartment.
You'd first gotten the idea when you noticed Leah was online shopping the other day, looking for a new watch. You knew she liked to have a couple, alternating between them based on what outfit she'd wear. She'd been speaking about a new golden one for a while now, the one she had had lasted its time and she wanted a new one. Ever the observer, you'd made a mental note. A perfect Christmas gift.
Leah sported a bright smile, her gaze now pointed towards you. "Thank you, I've been looking at getting a new one, this is perfect," Leah took your hand in hers and gave it an appreciative squeeze, putting the watch back in it's holder and carefully placing the box back on the coffee table. "You could wear it with the black suit you have for New Year's Eve, it'd look really good," you said softly, Leah replying with nothing more than a suggestive wink.
Your blonde lover reached back over to the presents, grabbing a little silver bag and handing it to you. "We're staying in theme," Leah chuckled. You raised your eyebrows at her before your fingers made quick work of untying the knot, revealing a fine, silver necklace with a little L on. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you took in your present, admiring the way it glistened. "I know this seems like I'm basically claiming you, but I wouldn't have bought you this if you hadn't told me about a million times that you wanted one of these."
You let out a breathy laugh, throwing your head back against the couch. "Just for the record, I have no problem with you claiming me." You locked eyes with your girlfriend and saw a little twinkle in hers, to which you surged forward and pressed a firm kiss against her lips. "Thank you. You wanna help putting it on?" Leah nodded eagerly and twisted her body towards yours, clasping the necklace around your neck. Her fingers ghosted over the L that now hung between your collarbones. She kissed your lips once more, lingering a little before she pulled away again and sat upright.
Your next present for Leah was something you knew she'd be over the moon with. Arsenal through and through, your girlfriend had been collecting vintage Arsenal kits ever since you remember. Signed, worn, match kits, training kits, your wardrobe was full with her Arsenal memorabilia. There was one missing though, Arsenal's home shirt from the 2005/06 season, their last year at Highbury. You stumbled across it on Vinted a couple months ago and couldn't believe that it hadn't been picked up yet. The shirt was in perfect state, Thierry Henry's name and number splayed out on the back of it. You paid no mind to the price and ordered it immediately, knowing just how happy your girlfriend would be with it.
You passed her your second present. She felt around a little. "It's definitely clothing." She fumbled around a bit longer with the wrapping paper, before you interrupted. "Le, baby, how about you just open it and see what's inside instead of guessing." Her cheeks blushed a faint red but she complied nonetheless, once again very ungracefully tearing away at the wrapping paper.
Leah's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she took sight of the burgundy shirt. You couldn't really tell with the lack of proper lighting in the room, but you swear you saw a couple unshed tears in her eyes. She quickly made work of the plastic layer around the shirt, holding it up in front of her. "Check the back," you said softly, reaching out towards your girlfriend and resting your hand on her leg that was slightly bouncing, testament to her excitement.
Leah turned the shirt around and you saw her smile growing impossibly bigger. "Babe, genuinely, what the fuck." You chuckled and shuffled closer to her, leaning your head on her shoulder and admiring the shirt along with her. "Nice one, eh?" Leah turned her face towards you and she cocked an eyebrow. "Nice? This isn't just 'nice', this is incredible," Leah scoffed. She turned the shirt back around, feeling the fabric, checking the label, as if she was still not sure whether this was real. "God, you've outdone yourself, y/n. I can't top this."
A smile tugged on the corners of your lips, pressing a soft kiss against Leah's cheek. "I knew you'd love it." Leah folded the shirt neatly and put it down on the coffee table next to the watch, turning her body towards yours. She cupped your cheeks and pressed a tender kiss against your lips, saying so much more than words could grasp. "You're amazing. I love you so much."
Leah pecked your lips another couple times before she retreated and set back against the armrest of the couch. "If I knew an Arsenal shirt was all it would take for you to be so expressive with you love, I wouldn't have waited this long," you said teasingly, earning a grunt and a playful swat at your thigh from your lover. "I am expressive with my love. Don't start on me!" A light giggle fell from your lips and waved away any further protest by grabbing Leah's hand and pressing a soft kiss against her palm. "You've got one more from me," Leah announced giddily, removing her hand from yours and grabbing the final present from the table. "This one's a bit more... sentimental."
You raised your eyebrows at your girlfriend, trying to read anything into her expression, but failing. "Sentimental...," you pried. "Yeah. Just open it. You'll see." You took the present from Leah's hands, the package laying relatively heavy in your hands. You carefully unwrapped it, each tear of the paper revealing a little more of Leah's final present. Eventually, you realized what it was. A handmade book of the last three years of your relationship. The book was littered with polaroids, screenshots of messages, souvenirs from places you went together, movie tickets, little notes you left for her to find on days you were out the country, and so many more. You could feel a stray tear making its way down your cheek as you scrolled your way through the book, catching it as quick as possible before it could fall on the paper and ruin anything. "Gosh, Leah,..." you mumbled, "sentimental is one way to put it, yeah," you said, muttering out the words past the obvious lump in your throat, sniffling a couple times as the memories unfolded underneath your fingers.
"You like it?" Leah's voice sounded small, and it almost agitated you, because you didn't even know how to begin voicing to her how much this meant to you. Leah wasn't one for the big romantic gestures, nor was she very showy with her affection, so for her to do something like this, to put so much time and effort into handcrafting this, it meant the world to you. You lifted your head and locked your gaze with your girlfriend's, a small frown etched between your eyebrows. "Le, please,..." you breathed, "do I like it?" You scoffed, and shook your head lightly at how ridiculous you found the question. "This means so much to me, Leah, you know that." You felt the blonde nudge a little closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder and looking at the polaroid your fingers seemed to linger on. "Remember that night?" she said softly, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder.
"Of course I do," you said matter-of-factly. It was a polaroid you'd taken on the first time Leah slept over at your apartment. You'd been over at hers plenty of times, but somehow her sleeping over at yours felt like a step up. She'd come over and brought your favorite Italian take-away. Initially you both insisted on cooking together, but a long day at respectively football and work lulled you both into the comfort of having a meal prepared for you. You lounged on the sofa for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing until you settled for watching a film wrapped in each other's embrace. Somewhere during the night, though, you felt like the air had shifted a little. Touches lingered a little longer, kisses were a little sloppier, leading to the first time you made love to one another later that night. It was messy, clumsy and very nervous, but it was perfect. Perfect, because it was yours.
The memories flooded your mind and you couldn't help the jolt of arousal that coursed through your body upon remembering the events of that night. You leaned your head against Leah's, pressing a kiss against her temple. "As much as I would love to look through all of this right now, I've got one last present for you," you said softly, coaxing her head off your shoulder, carefully closing the handmade book and placing it on the coffee table. You tried to ignore the little insecurity that crept underneath your skin when you thought about Leah's final present. Deep down, you knew she'd love it, but you always felt a little apprehensive about things like this. The lingerie was one thing, the lap dance you were planning on giving her a whole other. "Another one? But it's not on the table?" Leah's eyes scanned around the room, clearly confused as to where you could've hidden another present. "It's not there, Le," you chuckled at the expression on her face. "It's upstairs. You stay here, I'll be right back," you put a hand on her chest and gave her lips a chaste kiss, standing up from the couch and making your way up the stairs before she could quip back a response.
You thanked your former self for having already put on the lingerie before Leah came home this afternoon, one less thing to worry about now in your nervous state. You slipped off Leah's your hoodie and sweatpants you'd been wearing, your girlfriend insisting that she wanted you to spend tonight in cozy clothing. You braved a look at yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom, and you felt some of the insecurities melt away. You looked good. The lingerie hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all the curves you knew Leah loved so much. The longline bra was snug around your waist, the lace perfectly outlining the curve of your breasts. The thin red bottoms left little to the imagination, the waistband – accentuated with a little ribbon – just underneath your belly button. They gave prominence to your strong, tanned legs, likely your favorite thing about this set. You gave yourself an appreciative nod and pulled a robe out of your shared wardrobe, draping it over your half-naked body, giving Leah an extra layer to take off. You quickly decided to also pull a pair of red heels out of your wardrobe, putting them on and making your way out of the bedroom before you could doubt your choice of footwear. You stood at the edge of the stairs and took a steadying breath before you started making your way down. The clicking of your heels alerted Leah immediately, not able to delay her seeing you until you were downstairs.
Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in your outfit, and she put her phone down that she was mindlessly scrolling on to pass some time while you were upstairs. You could see a little glint in her eyes as you took the final step of the stairs, making your way back over to the couch at a tantalizingly slow pace. The air had most definitely shifted, Leah's intense gaze locking with yours as you slowed to a stop right in front of her. A smile tugged at your lips and you grabbed Leah's chin between your thumb and index finger, coaxing her face up towards yours and pressing a dizzying kiss against her lips. "I told you I had one final present," you mumbled against her mouth. "Why don't you discover what's underneath this robe?" You softly bit Leah's bottom lip as you let go of her lips, a lust-filled haze now clouding her eyes as she thought about what could be underneath the robe.
Leah's fingers made quick work of the knot tied around your waist, leaving the piece of clothing to fall to the ground, revealing your lingerie. "Oh," Leah's breath hitched in her throat and you would've grown insecure about her reaction if you hadn't seen the twinkle in her eyes. You were hit by a flurry of confidence and you twirled around, shaking your ass a little while your back was facing her before you turned back to face her. "Fuck, babe, this is..." Your girlfriend's words got caught in her throat as she let her eyes rake over your body once more, making sure she wasn't dreaming. You'd worn lingerie for her a couple times, after she had voiced how much she'd love it if you tried a couple sets. But never had it been a thing outside of the bedroom. You'd worn lingerie sets, worn sets underneath robes for her to discover, but it always happened in the comfort of your own bed. This, though, was a next step. A slight blush coated your cheeks as you felt Leah's intense gaze on you. She reached out one of her hands and looked up to you apprehensively, "Can I?" A smile tugged at your lips and you let out a light chuckle. "I'm all yours."
Leah's hands roamed all over your body, from your waist, to your thighs, to your lace-covered breasts, your calves, your ass, your girlfriend didn't leave a spot untouched. It wasn't long before her touches grew needy, and you put a hand against her chest to stop her, not wanting the rest of her surprise to get lost in her own excitement. "Le, wait," you said. Her eyes flicked up to yours, and you noticed how wide her pupils had gotten. A smirk made its way onto your face as to what would happen next. "You've been so good to me. Let me do this for you, okay?" You didn't await Leah's response. Instead you pulled Leah forward a little, and turned your body around, spreading your legs sitting yourself down on her lap. You couldn't ignore the doubts that crept in your mind about what you were doing, because you had never done anything like this. You'd sat on Leah's lap, plenty of times, but you'd never given her a lap dance. You did your research, naturally, you even watched a couple videos – although you had to click those off due to the abundance of secondhand embarrassment you experienced. Either way, you tried to calm your nerves by thinking how much Leah would love this, no matter how good you were at it. She never failed to voice her love for your bum.
Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you leaned your back against Leah's chest and gave a tentative roll of your hips against her lap. The slight hitch of your girlfriend's breath didn't go unnoticed to you and it gave you the fire in your belly to continue your ministrations. You started grinding your hips against hers in a steady but slow rhythm. You alternated between moves, gently bouncing up and down Leah's lap or popping your hips every now and then, every reaction you pulled out of your girlfriend fueling your confidence. You could sense Leah was a bit unsure as to what to do with her hands, but as the time went on and she felt herself getting more and more aroused, she started guiding your body along with her hands. She aided your movements, pushing you down against her hips, loving the way your behind brushed her core with every gyration of your hips.
A couple moments passed and an idea popped into your mind. You leaned back into your girlfriend, your head resting on her shoulder as you looked up towards her and your gazes locked, a small frown etched on your face that was driving Leah wild. You locked lips with her and you couldn't hold back the breathy moan that escaped your lips at the feeling of her mouth against yours. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, and it perfectly encapsulated the building pressure between the both of you. You tried moving your hips in an eight-figure, which pulled a groan from your girlfriend. "You're driving me crazy," Leah whispered into your ear, softly nipping at your earlobe as she kept her hands firmly on your waist.
You let out a breathy laugh that soon turned into a whimper as Leah's hands moved up towards your breasts, palming them and placing kisses against your back as you rolled your hips back into hers. One of your arms was placed on Leah's thighs, holding yourself up, and you threw the other around your girlfriend's neck, letting your nails rake over the skin on the back of her neck. Your moves grew frantic as you felt arousal building in your core, your gyrations less measured and less precise, the more Leah's hands started to wander all over your body. Any remnants of your earlier insecurity long washed away, you were more than pleased with how your final present for your girlfriend turned out. "God, Le, you feel so good," you breathed out as you let your head fall to her shoulder once again, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. A particularly harsh thrust of your hips against hers caused Leah to groan again, digging her fingers into your sides as she whispered in your ear.
"Bedroom. Now."
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miss-celestial-being · 10 months ago
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jake peralta going on a blind date that boyle set up but she’s actually completely his type
literally the love of my life tysm for the request
-
"No. No. No. No. No. No. No. And did I mention, no!" Jake says exasperatedly. "You see, I knew you would say that which is why I already set up the date with her." Charles rebuttals. He tells him your name as he taps rhythmically on Jake's desk. "She's thirty-two, she loves herself some Tay-Tay, and her favorite soup is crab bisque. I met her in my hot goat yoga class." "Ew, what." "Yeah, I'm hearing how that sounds now. But still, I think you'd like her. Who knows, by the end of the night you may just be smushing booties." Jake groans, "God, Boyle, don't say smushing booties." "Right, yeah, yep," He picks up the file from Jake's desk, turning to the man as he walks away, "Shaw's Bar, 8 o'clock."
Charles turns back around and bumps into Terry as he walks to his desk. He groans as he crushes his yogurt cup in his hand, "Damnnit, Boyle." "Sorry," He says as he backs toward the exit of the bullpen. He rapidly clicks the close button once inside the elevator, evading Terry's angry gaze. "Jake sighs as he looks back at his computer.
"So, hot date tonight, huh?" Amy asks as she leans around their computers to smirk smugly at him. "Uhm, no. I'm not going," He says, his eyes not leaving the screen as he types mindlessly. "What? Why not? Charles says she's perfect for you." "Exactly: Charles thinks she's perfect for me. Knowing him she's either some hot goat yoga-loving freak, or-" "Or actually perfect for you. I think you should give it a shot. I mean, you're constantly complaining about how horribly dull your love life is," Jake frowns, "Hey, now, I wouldn't say horrible dull-" "Yes you would, and you have. Now no more fighting, you have a date to get ready for." Jake looks at the time at the bottom right corner of his monitor and sighs, "All right, fine. But when this all goes to total shit, I'm blaming you." Amy rolls her eyes with a grin and opens the next file from her stack as Jake makes his way to the elevator.
-
The bell rings as Jake opens the door to Shaw's Bar, his free hand shoved in his jacket pocket. The warm, boozy bar air fills his nostrils as he steps toward the bar, the glass door closing slowly behind him. He looks around the bar, hoping to instantly recognize the mystery woman, to no avail.
The bell rings again as Jake asks Hank for an orange soda on the rocks. The bartender sighs exhaustedly as he pulls the Crush can out of the mini fridge from behind the bar. "Jake?" A voice asks as someone taps him on the shoulder. He turns around, and his mouth opens and closes like a fish as his brain short-circuits. "Or not?" You laugh awkwardly, "I'm really sorry about this, I was told someone would be here, but it looks like he stood me up." You sit one chair over at the bartop, sighing as you rest your chin on your fist.
"Hi," Jake says as he hold out his hand, "I'm Jake." "Oh," You breathe, "Sorry. You didn't say anything and I just thought- Y'know what, never mind, I'm probably not what you were expecting." Jake smiles, "Well, you're right there. Charles told me he met you in a 'hot goat yoga class'." You cringe slightly, "I honestly didn't even know his name, I walked into the wrong building and he started talking to me about his friend Jake." "Sounds about right." You both laugh and he moves to the chair between you.
"So, my weird friend tells me you like Taylor Swift," Jake starts and the conversation lasts hours, the orange soda on the countertop left completely ignored. "All right, time to wrap it up. The bar's closing." Hank says as he wipes the counter. "Oh my god, how long have we been here?" Jake asks him, surprised. The bartender ignores him as he moves on to another part of the bar. You look around to find the bar completely empty.
You laugh quietly, "This was fun," You say softly as you exit the bar, "We should do this again-" You're cut off by a sudden surprising kiss, Jake's hands holding your cheeks gently to keep you close. Your eyes flutter closed and take the collar of his shirt in your fists. He pulls away, mumbling out a quick 'noice' before getting pulled back into a kiss that leaves him gasping for breath.
-
ik this ended abruptly but its a school night and i have to go to bed so this is as good as we're getting today
i really hope you liked this bc jake has been on my mind for ages and i couldnt find many fics here sadly
dont hesitate to request more
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luveline · 7 months ago
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HI!!! so i am obsessed with your reader x coworker james first kiss fic. can we maybe get something about what came after? like how were the interactions the day or week after, how did they behave around each other, did james tell the boys or was he too nervous?
—you and James maintain a facade that Remus sees through
James wheels his chair to be as far from you as possible. He leans back, turns his monitor. Through the gap, he has a perfect window of your face without it being obvious that he’s staring. Well, sort of. 
Stop staring. 
James reads Remus’ slack message in surprise. He glances at you, finds you still snacking on chocolate covered somethings less covertly than you mean to be, and decides to grace his friend with a message back. 
Nope 
James, Remus messages. 
I’m not really staring 
You’re staring. She can definitely tell 
James looks back to you, hoping to prove Remus wrong, but you’re staring straight at him. He has the instinct to look away and the sense not to, charmed into grinning when you squint at him, your mock suspiciousness adorable. 
“James,” Remus says, clearing his throat. 
James pulls his gaze away reluctantly. “What?” 
“Can you answer my email?” 
The email isn’t an email, but another slack message. Are you serious right now? You couldn’t be more obvious if you tried 
James flicks a pen lid at him. “Obvious about what?” he mouths. 
You get up and stretch, tactically failing to meet anyone’s eyes as you pick up your empty glass of water and leave. 
“James, what’s going on?” 
“What ever could you mean, my love?” 
Remus rolls his chair toward. “Don’t flirt with me. I’m serious, what the hell is going on with you? You’re supposed to hate the girl.” 
“Hate is such a strong word.”
“Well, you’re being a bit much no matter what.” 
James bites his cheek in a hurry to straighten up. “You think so?” 
Remus just stares at him.
James has done a fantastic job at keeping your kiss a secret. He doesn’t know how, mind you —you kissed him, you kissed him, you asked if you could and you kissed him like a sweetheart with the softest mouth he’s ever had the fortune to feel pressed against his own. 
Since your kiss, he’s been feeling weirdly poetic. He totally gets all those Carol Ann Duffy poems they made him read at school now. 
One day without telling anybody is impressive, at least to his own standards. “I know what I’m doing,” he says. 
Remus frowns. “I’d love to be informed on what exactly that is.” 
“Certain events have transpired and convinced me that I was quite wrong to have judged our girl so harshly.”
“Certain events?” 
“I’m allowed some mystery,” James says, before smiling so hard it makes him squint and his cheeks apple. He rubs at his face roughly in an attempt to move forward, but he remembers the way your kiss had melded from soft and shy to hungry. Fuck, he loved it. He needs another one. He has no idea how to get it. “Ugh, I’m gonna go get my lunch from the fridge.” 
“Sure you are. Alright, well, I’m gonna find Sirius and maybe he can convince you to start acting normal again.”
James goes to the kitchen first but abandons his charade when you aren’t there. He grabs his lunch, tucking it under his arm as he makes his way through to the break room. You’re thankfully, blissfully, sitting by the open window with a shop-bought salad. 
He nods at the chair across from you. “Can I sit?” 
“Yes.” 
“That’s all you're eating?” he asks. A little tray of salad is hardly enough to keep you going until the end of the day. “I have gyoza chilli noodle soup, it’s amazing.” 
“You’re gonna eat it cold?” you ask. 
He leans forward, elbows on the table, holding your gaze. “No, but I’m busy right now.” He needs time to look you over. Every time he realises how pretty you are is like another beat of his capering pulse. 
“Don’t harass me.” 
“I’m not harassing you.” 
“What would you call this?” You stab a few pieces of lettuce onto your fork. “I can’t have much more for dinner, I just had half a packet of chocolate covered strawberries.” 
“Don’t say that, like some snacks and a salad are more than you’re allowed. Here, I'll warm this up and you can share. You’ll really like it, the gyoza are amazing.” 
“So what, you’re gonna take care of me now?” you ask. You’re teasing, but there’s a slight edge of bitterness to it like you believe what you’re saying. James is swift to set that right, though he stays speaking in tongues with you.
“I’ve been trying to.” James can hear footsteps at the doorway, and besides, you’re right, he’s being too nice. He sucks in an unbothered breath. “Whatever, loser, stick to your sad salad.” 
Your eyes widen. “I don’t want your cold soup, you idiot.” 
Sirius and Remus filter in with one of your coworkers just behind them. “I thought you said he was being weird?” Sirius asks. “He seems pretty normal to me.” 
Remus sighs forlornly, prompting a side hug from his boyfriend as he shepherds him to the table where you and James are sitting.
“He’s always being weird,” you say. 
James kicks your foot gently. You pick through your salad with a poorly concealed smile. 
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stxrvel · 5 months ago
Text
intrusive (4)
series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. THIS IS EDITED!! there are new scenes!! 16/9. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! sadness, lots of mixed feelings, self-hatred, flashbacks, flashbacks. a/n. hi guysssssssssss. its been a while, i know and im so sorry. i hope this chapter doesn't feel too rushed. truth be told, between life issues and that i've been having trouble with inspiration for scenes it took me a while to build this, but surprisingly i'm pleased with the result. now, where do you think we're going and what will we do from here on out?????? surprises come, surprises go. thank you all for your continued support!! i really appreciate the feedback from all of you and reading your comments makes my days. for those who are still here, thank you. see you next time!
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There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments that kept your hair standing on end every so often or every time you remembered. They were like gaps, things you didn't know how they had gotten there, how they had happened, or how someone else knew. And you were accumulating them, suspicious, somewhat delusional and paranoid if you asked anyone, but they were held in that space in the back of your head waiting for the right moment to come out.
Between moments of lucidity and memories of the past, there were many things you had superficially let slip by.
Yuna was in front of you, her brow furrowed in concentration and her eyes almost square from the amount of time she had already spent in front of the computer. You had been at it all day, so the moment your friend appeared like it was her own living room and everyone acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary, you just plopped down on the couch with a calm expression, waiting for the perfect moment to let certain things out, to ask certain questions.
There were moments of enlightenment, there were moments of brilliant discoveries. And that day you had discovered something you had forgotten because of the brevity of its recognition, but in retrospect it was something worth knowing, even if there were still too many things, more important things, of which you were ignorant. At that moment, all gathered in the living room of your parents' house, the most important thing was what was on your mind.
“Yuna.”
Your friend barely shook her head in acknowledgement of her name. Your parents were arranging the table in the middle of the couches to settle lunch, surely a big feast like every other day for the past few days and the only reason Seojun took virtual classes that day, and your brother was ogling the dishes with his mouth ajar. Eugh.
But none of them were paying too much attention. Food, social media, ordering, direct messaging, arranging the geometrically correct dishes… everyone had their heads in their own world, and that's why you could hear the moment your father's hair touched the ground when you asked:
“You were the one who set up my book booth at the last convention?”
Four pairs of eyes bore into you.
“What?”
You looked at her expectantly, not letting the mischief interfere with your plans.
“No…! I didn't-I mean, what are you talking about?”
Yuna let out a nervous laugh, just after correcting herself when she got a blunt look from your mother. Your father stood stiffly behind his wife, the frying pan in his hands wobbling so clearly that a few drops of the soup dripped onto the wood of the floor. Your mother leaned over, leaving the plate she was carrying on the table, sending Seojun a look that caused him to swallow his saliva sonorously.
The scene was so comical that you really had a hard time not bursting out laughing.
“It's just that when I talked to Sol this morning she commented something…”
You let the words hover in the air, straining them each time it came to one of them. Yuna straightened up, completely forgetting about the computer for a second, peeling her back off the couch where she was leaning on the floor. Your father snorted in surprise so hard that he was attacked by a cough and your mother had to take the frying pan away from him before he watered down all the soup from all the shaking. Seojun hid behind your mother's legs and you just plopped down on the couch, stretching your legs over the armrest, satisfied with their reactions.
“And what did she say to you, honey?”
Your mother was the most composed, finishing arranging the dishes around the pan while your father had run out to the living room for a glass of water. Among the foursome, your mother was the only one who truly knew what dissimulation meant. You had no doubt that her sisterhood with the others in the room would end once you told them you already knew everything.
“She told me she was afraid I hadn't been able to see what you had done for me,” you frowned looking up at the ceiling, looking genuinely confused. “And it was weird, because we were talking about the last convention.”
Yuna let out a laugh, incredulous.
“And why would you be talking about that with Sol?”
Putting the antics aside, you stood up on your forearms and glared at her.
“Why did you do that?”
“What did I do?”
“Sol told me it was your idea.”
“That's not true!”
“Ah…” you held a hand to your forehead, as if you had just remembered something important. Your gaze swept around the room and Seojun cringed when your eyes landed on him. “True. She said it had been your idea.”
Before Yuna could send a warning glance at your brother, Seojun raised his hand and pointed at your friend, exclaiming:
“It was her idea! It was all Yuna's idea! Tell her mom!”
The two aforementioned closed their eyes, taking a deep breath and bringing their fingers to the bridge of their noses. Their expressions of ennui were unmatched and promptly Seojun was cringing for a completely different reason.
“You're such a jerk,” Yuna mumbled, almost barking in the direction of the poor man seeking to escape his mother's lethal gaze. Instantly, your friend turned her gaze in your direction, meeting that amused look that curled her annoyance just for a millisecond. “I thought you'd be more upset.”
“I was,” you lifted a shoulder, leaning back against the back of the couch as you listened to the string of scoldings your mom was in between yelling and whispering to your brother. “But it's impossible not to see reason when you're talking to someone like Sol.
Yuna also nodded in consideration. It was something that, not just the two of you, but all of Sol's workers agreed with. Sol had a warmth about her, a homely feel to her that made you automatically trust her and take it for granted that, if she told you everything would work out, it was because it would; whether it was by chance of the universe or because she would see to it that it did.
“Then it was a good thing you heard it from her mouth and not your inept brother's,” Yuna sent her another withering glare and you couldn't help the smile that twitched your corners as you watched your mother move the bowl of tteokbokki away from her grasp. It was so funny to see that he didn't always get the baby of the house treatment for a change.
“Were you planning on taking that to your grave?”
Yuna turned, arching her eyebrows. With her lips set in a thin line, you knew she was thinking about choosing the right words to answer you, even though that thing they'd done had led directly to the fact that, at that moment, you'd been able to afford the luxury of asking for vacation for the first time and focusing on what you truly loved to do. Even if they had worked behind your back, the result had not been so fatal.
If you took a few unwanted people out of the equation, that is.
Your friend finally softened her gaze.
“No, I knew you'd find out at some point. From whoever's mouth. A secret can only be kept from so many people.” Yuna rolled her eyes, moving to listen to your father complain from the kitchen. “But I didn't think Sol would tell you so openly. Was it on purpose?”
“Yes. I think she was trying to convince me or make up for something. I'm not sure which.”
Yuna raised her eyebrows, cocking her head in tension for barely a second. If not for the years you'd known her, you probably would've interpreted her short-lived reaction as genuine curiosity, the desire for a tidbit of gossip. But your friend's tension was palpable and it was something that left you wondering a bit, especially when she didn't speak until your father returned to the kitchen.
“Honey, I think I'm going to get a sore throat.”
There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments. There were too many things you were still ignorant of and had no idea about; things far beyond what was happening in the present.
There were things you still didn't understand, like why and how Jeon Jungkook, the country's most famous idol and probably one of the celebrities most likely to have easiest facial recognition on the street, had so stealthily stumbled upon your whereabouts or why he had acted as if seeing you again was a reunion with his lost puppy from years ago.
“Are you still upset, noona?”
Seojun watched you warily, your sidelong glance leading him to cower once more behind your father. With lunch settled and the tension gone (barely), you all had been able to enjoy an enjoyable moment. After all, the dense atmosphere that still lingered was only due to the fact that teasing Seojun was fun and more satisfying when you had no reason to do so.
It all came from a great consideration that your family, and even Sol, had for you, trying to support you however they could, even if you didn't even seek their help. As much as you wanted to (and didn't really want to) there wasn't much reason to get angry. Less so when the outcome, likewise, had been favorable.
“We should focus on what's important,” Yuna dipped her spoon into the almost non-existent conversation, finishing her meal and leaving the plate practically glistening, to which your mother was able to sketch a satisfied smile. “We have a meeting this afternoon.”
“Ah. Yes,” Seojun nodded, remembering his place as the second-in-command of the business, because you had actually been relieved of any position you might have held in your own business. “As the person in charge of the treasury of this company, I must admit that the decision made is the most appropriate and in our best interests.”
Yuna narrowed her eyes, seeming it was almost impossible for her to ignore your brother's annoying presence.
“What have you contributed to this business to call yourself the person in charge of the treasury?”
“I've done a lot for this project! Besides, you are focused on advertising. You should be in charge of the public relations department.”
“And I can't handle both?!”
“I set up all the lines of communication with the delivery people and organized the accounts with Dad!” Seojun pulled Dad's shirt collar, pulling him close to his face with a frown. Your dad only let him be, as he savored a wing. “You took charge of net with mom. We can't reverse charges now. Experience and reality speak for themselves.”
Yuna clicked her tongue, irritated.
“Whatever,” shaking her head, she flipped the computer on the table so Seojun and your parents could get a good look at the proposal you had accepted, after arduous study over the weekend as a family. “After a long board meeting, which stretched over the entire weekend, this was the accepted offer.”
You could almost see the zeros running in your brother's eyes, with a budding smile making its way across his face. Your parents looked pleased, proud. And Yuna kept that determined expression; she was really taking all this seriously and you didn't know yet how you could thank her for it.
“Ah…” your mother sighed, holding a hand to her chest. “It's finally happening.”
When she sent you that look with the sparkling eyes you couldn't help but shrink back on your spot on the floor.
“Mom, I think it's best we avoid getting too excited until we've signed.”
Your mother nodded, closing her eyes and breathing to keep her composure.
“Accepted the offer, we were summoned to their facility, which is where we will be heading after resting from this delicious lunch.” Yuna smiled radiantly in your mother's direction. Sometimes you wondered if she wasn't missed at home. But… no, she was much better off here.
“My children have to rest very well to make the best decisions at that meeting,” your mother nodded, stroking Yuna's hair superficially and getting up to pick up the dishes. Seojun got up to help her, but your father stopped him, keeping the warm smile on his face. Of all of them, your father was the most expressive, but you knew that at that moment he was holding back only because at the slightest he would burst into tears. And yes, with a simple glance in your direction, his eyes watered and he had to run away hugging the dishes against his chest.
Seojun sighed dramatically.
“I wish they had been this excited when I entered college.”
Yuna moved across the table, smacking him on the forehead that left him with an instant redness.
“What are you talking about, idiot? You celebrated all weekend.”
Seojun didn't respond, touching his forehead with a grimace. Yuna snorted, not believing your brother's audacity, and turned her focus back to the contents of the proposal you had received from Noble Publishing Apgujeong. You still remembered the screams that had echoed throughout the house when they found the letter from that publishing house in the mail, the most prestigious and probably the highest one could aspire to in the world of writing and for the purposes of editing and publishing. There wasn't a book published under that publishing house that wasn't a success, and that they had sought you out themselves was a great privilege.
“Speaking of celebrations,” Seojun took the floor again, when your parents had finished taking the dishes away and agreed that you would wash them all together before youo left for the publishing house, because nothing was good enough, ”I don't think we've had a moment to at least pop a champagne and celebrate this.”
Your parents remained thoughtful, but you were already shaking your head when Yuna spoke:
“It's true,” her frown said she couldn't believe they hadn't done it yet, but between so many chores, to-dos and new things you were discovering on this new path, you couldn't just take the luxury of doing nothing for a few hours. There was a lot to work on. “We should do it after the meeting. With the contract at home, it will be much better!”
Your father and Seojun cheered in agreement and your mother gave a few claps.
“You're working tomorrow, Yuna.”
“So what?” your friend frowned at you. “Do you think it'll be the first time I've gone to work with a hangover?”
Your mom's throat clearing startled her, and she quickly melted like pudding with a sheepish grin.
“But this time it will be for a good cause…and it won't happen again.”
Your mom nodded, not very convinced.
“Incidentally,” Yuna regained her posture, sending a glare at Seojun, ”we could have y/n finally watch the video reactions of her books.”
“You haven't seen them?” Seojun exclaimed and suddenly the four pairs of eyes felt very threatening.
“… no…”
“Mom?? Did you hear that?!”
“Sweetheart!” your father exclaimed, looking at you as if he had heard that you did something worthy of banishment. “Why haven't you seen the videos, don't you know the good things they say about you?”
“The compliments,” your mother nodded. “Almost the entire internet loves your books.”
“That's an exaggeration, mom…”
“How did you even avoid all that hype?” Seojun asked, leaning over the table. “Even Dad's TikTok wasn't spared, and he only watches National Geographic videos.”
“…I muffled a few words.”
A roar of incredulous refusals followed your words and promptly everyone was moving to corner you against the couch so you had no escape.
“There is no time to waste.” Seojun nodded in Yuna's direction and it offended you too much that the only times they agreed was to do something against you.
“Mrs. l/n, I think dessert will be popcorn,” Yuna moved her computer closer to the center of the table as Seojun settled in behind you, each of your parents on your sides as your friend opened the TikTok web app.
“Hey, no… no. I'm not ready to watch this. I'm not-”
“Nonsense, noona. Even better, this will give you a big confidence boost for the meeting this afternoon.”
You didn't believe Seojun at all. Your nerves were on edge as Yuna moved to sit next to your brother and the first words of the first video echoed in the living room:
“My honest opinion of the A Million Swords trilogy…”
-
“Do you think I might publish any of these one day?”
Your fingers drummed on the keyboard of the desktop computer, watching the letters spinning a story that no one yet knew. No one, except for you and Taehyung at that moment. His gaze was confused as his dark eyes hid behind the dark, unruly, damp locks of his hair. For a pool day, you couldn't have had a better time than writing parts of your still unfinished story, the one you used to run away to when you had a whole reality to mold in front of you. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention back then; attention to details, to gestures, to distances, to forced smiles; maybe if you had paid that kind of attention you would have been able to foresee everything that would happen later… maybe then it wouldn't have hurt so much.
But at that moment, at 14, you could only see with stars in your eyes the enormous possibility that you thought writing would open up for you; the world you were about to discover, much farther away than you thought.
That weekend the pool party was at your house. Jimin had brought a gigantic inflatable pool withJungkook and they all kept splashing water in each other's eyes in the backyard. In your prolonged absence, surely, Taehyung had ventured inside the house to the only place he would know you would be if it wasn't next to them.
“Do I think? I'm absolutely sure.”
Taehyung shook the droplets slipping from the ends of his hair all over your face.
“Tae!”
“Why are you doubting it?”
“I never said I was doubting it.”
Your friend took one of the armchairs that each of the boys had recast in your room, which no matter how much you pulled them out always ended up there again, to sit next to you and watch the unfinished paragraphs on the computer screen. There were four armchairs already gathering dust in the corner of the room that you still hadn't had the heart to take them out.
“Look at that,” the brown-haired man moved his face closer to the screen, splashing more water on you, with a mischievous grin. “It was desire that stirred me, far beyond the reach of reason or any cognitive faculty. In the depths of my being, I knew with unshakable certainty that I was right. Their gaze scrutinized my every expression, searching for ways to break me, while their fingers, far from innocent, accused me relentlessly. Yet, even as the weight of their scrutiny bore down on me, there was no realm, no dimension in this vast, boundless universe where I had not chosen him above all else. Not even as the streets ignited, the houses crumbled to ashes, and the roar of thunder drowned out the cries for mercy…who writes like that?”
“y/n!”
Your other two friends appeared, reveling in the unapproved reading of the first draft of your first novel, and you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
You moved quickly to press the off button and your friends barely let out a short laugh.
“Don't ever do that again.”
“Then don't ever doubt you again.”
“I wasn't doubting! It was just a question…”
“She just wants you to be honest, Tae.” Jimin entered the room, moving right behind his friend and flashing a smile that made your hair stand on end.
“Honest...?”
“Shut up, Jimin.”
The aforementioned barely let out a laugh, under the scrutinizing and confused expressions of his other two friends.
“What do you mean?” Jungkook spoke, trying to gain ground in that unfamiliar room, clasping his hands in front of him in nervousness. He didn't even understand why he was nervous, he just knew he didn't like the obfuscated expression on your face.
“Nothing, Junkookie, Jimin's just an idiot who only knows how to spout rubbish.”
“Rubbish? Where do you even get those words from?”
“I learned it yesterday in literature class!”
“Uh-huh…”
“Stop it, Jimin!”
-
He wasn't a person to be caught off guard. His cautious attitude was something he had developed over time; with the experience of going through and surviving difficult situations; with the toughness of making strong decisions and constantly bearing the burden of being at fault for their consequences.
So no, Min Yoongi took it upon himself to plan things around him so meticulously that every aspect of his life had a place and a time; an hour and a second.
A planning so perfect that at that moment it was slipping through his hands like sand. His friend… no, Dohyun could do nothing but rest his hands against his desk sending him an obfuscated look, trying to look almost as disgruntled as Yoongi was at what he had learned would happen in that office.
“Of all the things I thought you could tell me…” Choi Dohyun shook his head, and on his face Yoongi could tell there were no words that could qualify his surprise. But he was surprised too, to be honest. He didn't know how he had summoned the fortitude to move so quickly from across town, from his study, to arrive at Dohyun's office and blurt that out to his face as if it were any Tuesday afternoon, as if he were simply inviting him to dinner at his house. “I've never underestimated you, Yoongi-ah, but this…”
“Who contacted you?”
“Who contacted me?” Dohyun let out a laugh, which felt a little heavy to Yoongi as he shifted his weight on his feet. “What makes you think I can't recognize a good deal from a distance when I see one? They call me the Shark for a reason, don't you think? I smell business like they smell blood in the sea.”
Yoongi clasped his hands at his sides, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Dohyun, who looked up and barely ran his tongue over his teeth before plopping back down on his ergonomic chair.
“The decision is already made,” was all he said to him, generating a flutter of emotions inside Yoongi.
“Who contacted you?” Yoongi insisted, feeling time slipping through his fingers. “How did you find out about… this?”
Dohyun let out a laugh, bordering on sarcasm and disbelief. Yoongi would've taken more time to think about it there, to ponder what he was doing, what his impulses were pushing him to do. But within the framework of his decisions and conflicting feelings, Yoongi had taken a path that he could no longer undo and the least he could do was avoid was to generate collateral damage to someone. Just for the chance to try, even though the probability of having the universe in his favor was microscopic, he decided not to give in to reason.
Maybe he would still be the villain in someone else's story, but in his conscience… maybe… maybe he was right and was looking for no way to excuse himself; to excuse things he could no longer change; to excuse behaviors he could no longer erase and decisions he could no longer undo.
Perhaps, too, it was the price he had to pay for what he had done. For what he had said; for what he had not said; for what he had done and what he had not done; for his action and his omission; for his perpetration and complicity. If Yoongi had known that time in his twenties that such a decision would have taken things so far, so close to the impossibility of healing, he surely would not have made it .
But to regret now, what good would it do him? To mutter apologies now, what good would it do him? To dig through the fibers of an unbridled heart, what good would it do him?
“Yoongi. I am the head of the largest publishing house in this country. If you thought I was going to see fluttering around the internet this opportunity in a million and as an entrepreneur and investor I wasn't going to take it, who are you taking me for?”
He should've dragged Namjoon away when he saw him in the parking lot, because business was his forte and not Yoongi's. Yoongi might as well cringe at Dohyun's words because how was he going to refute them. He had come with fortitude, yes. He had come with resolve and determination, yes; believing that this decision was the right thing to do, the least he could do right. And yet, at that crucial moment, with everything against him and the swords at his neck, Yoongi had his arms crossed again.
Maybe he should've dragged Namjoon along, but… how would he know if he was on his side?
“But don't worry. I'll try to keep you apart. You know I always separate personal matters from my work.”
Dohyun was a professional liar. If telling lies were a profession, Dohyun would quadruple the fortune he now boasts as the owner of the country's largest publishing house. Yoongi hated the way he covered up his poisonous words with honey, as if he couldn't see through the thin texture of the liquid how everything was corroding around him. And Dohyun was not his friend, if he wasn't sure before, he was now.
It's business, Namjoon would say, as rational and objective as ever; a businessman can't have someone around who attacks his vision, his business, that's an enemy.
Yoongi right now was a blob of green soup on Dohyun's pole, about to walk to an important meeting where he would close a million-dollar deal. His insignificance bordered on indescribability, but his diminutive presence was big enough to be considered a splinter in the foot.
The phone rang, breaking the tension in the atmosphere, and instead of answering it, Dohyun sent a glance toward the oak doors and then to Yoongi's limp body. Clasping his hands once again, it shook him inside to think that once again he allowed himself to be trampled. Once again, he was going to be the misfortune in someone's life.
“They're already here,” Dohyun almost muttered, an amused expression on his face. “You can leave now or you can stay and watch.”
Yoongi knew he'd be happy to have him there, watching him bite his tongue, trying to swallow his embarrassment. And wouldn't it be simpler to just leave, to brush against the fate he once let slip away as if it were something so trivial that it didn't tear a piece of his soul to even think about it; to brush against an opportunity he missed, selfish and presumptuous, as if he were the only one whose heart was beating with pain that day.
“I've never asked you for anything…”
“And neither have I,” Dohyun interrupted him, raising his gaze serenely, lifting his chin to acerbic dominance. “And all I'm asking you now is to stay out of my business.”
And Yoongi would've had to agree with Namjoon, because business and money definitely change a person. No one can rise to a high position, of Choi Dohyun's level, without having scored a big armory and a few degrees of tough personality willing to kill to get what they want.
“I received you out of courtesy. To Jin. But I won't tolerate another second of this.”
Dohyun mumbled, and the moment he brought the phone to his ear, Yoongi knew he had lost. Again.
“Hyung…” Yoongi closed his eyes, helplessness winning out over reason, the word sour in his mouth.
“No. I'm sorry, but no. It will happen. Just make your decision, I don't want my guests to wait too long.”
He didn't know if the grinding of his teeth was as loud as he heard it in his head. He didn't know if his behavior was over the top or understandable. He didn't know if he had a right to those emotions or if he had lost it more than ten years ago. Well, ten years in her head. He didn't know if he deserved that moment; to share that space and time and catch off guard someone who could become as cautious as he was now; because if Yoongi learned from anyone to be the way he was today, it was because of her.
He didn't know, in retrospect, if he ever made a good decision in his life.
-
i reeaally want to know your thoughts on this one!! re-edited!
tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592@yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @butnotmontana @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @chaotickyrith @dreamerwasfound @darlingz99
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mrsfancyferrari · 8 months ago
Text
You Know Me Best
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Summary: Charles has a bad day and you as his best friend always knows what he wants, but do you really?
Song: Friends by Chase Atlantic
Author’s note: This is similar to Just One Kiss but the ending is the different and spicy version. This is my first time writing an erotic scene so please just give constructive criticism. I just want to keep celebrating Charles' win T_T
Word count: 3.6k
MASTERLIST - F1
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Charles Leclerc experienced a challenging day on the track, and as his best friend, you noticed his need for comfort and reassurance. Charles has always been known for being incredibly intuitive, and you knew that he wanted to unwind and seek solace in his favorite activities.
Whenever Charles feels overwhelmed or stressed, he tends to crave comfort food. You know that he can always count on you to bring him his favorite treats, whether it's a bowl of warm homemade soup or a delicious sandwich.
You knew that providing him with one of his favorite foods would provide him with a sense of comfort and stability.
Throughout the day, you noticed a newfound attentiveness among the team members and fans alike. They knew that Charles was having a bad day, and they couldn't help but notice the changes in his behavior.
Whether it was his distracted demeanor or the way he constantly sought out your comfort, everyone realized that something was amiss.
However, what no one realized was that you were the one who understood Charles better than anyone else.
You knew exactly what he needed, and you were determined to bring him the comfort and reassurance he craved.
Throughout the years, you made sure that Charles had his favorite meals, whether it was sneaking him a few bites of dessert during team meetings or surprising him with a late-night snack.
You knew that these small gestures would make a difference, helping him regain his footing and regain his confidence.
"Are you sure you're not married or something?" Daniel joked to you as he watched you give Charles some snacks.
"No, just really good friends," you replied with a laugh. "But sometimes it feels like we're practically married with how well I know him."
Daniel chuckled and said, "Well, if you ever decide to tie the knot, I hope you'll remember to invite me to the wedding. I wouldn't want to miss out on witnessing such a perfect match!"
"Of course, Daniel! You'll be at the top of the guest list," you replied, grateful for the lighthearted moment amidst the tension.
What you didn't know was that Charles was listening to your conversation. As he overheard Daniel's comment about you two being a perfect match, a small smile formed on his face, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to your friendship than he had realized.
Your friendship with Charles runs deep, rooted in years of shared experiences and unwavering support. From late-night conversations to celebrating each other's successes, you have been there for each other through thick and thin.
Charles knows that your understanding of him goes beyond mere comfort food, and he cherishes the bond you share.
But as the smile lingered on his face, Charles couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for something more than just friendship between the two of you.
The thought had crossed his mind before, but now, listening to your conversation with Daniel, it seemed like the universe was teasing him with the possibility of a deeper connection. . . .
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The thought of a deeper connection with Charles had always lingered in your heart, but fear had held you back from taking any action. You were in love with him, and had been for as long as you could remember, but the risk of losing the friendship you cherished so much had always been too great.
As you watched Charles zoom around the Monaco track in his racing car, gripping onto your seat in the paddock, a surge of emotions washed over you. The adrenaline, the excitement, and the undeniable sense of pride in seeing him pursue his passion ignited a fire within you.
The roar of the engine filled the air as Charles sped past, his car a blur of color. A mix of excitement and anxiety washed over you, causing your heart to race in sync with the car.
As you held your breath, you couldn't help but notice the fierce competition from Max Verstappen and Lando Norris, who were hot on Charles' heels, ready to seize any opportunity to overtake him.
The race was far from over, and the tension only grew as the laps ticked by, making you wonder if Charles would be able to maintain his lead until the end.
The race intensified with each passing lap, as Charles skillfully navigated the twists and turns of the Monaco track. He expertly maneuvered his car, pushing it to its limits, while Max Verstappen and Lando Norris continued to apply relentless pressure. The crowd erupted with excitement, their cheers echoing through the air, as the three drivers engaged in a thrilling battle for the top spot.
Every move, every split-second decision, held the potential to determine the outcome of the race. The tension was palpable as the cars zoomed past, their engines roaring and tires screeching, creating a symphony of speed.
With each passing lap, the stakes grew higher, fueling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. As the race entered its final stages, every corner became a make-or-break moment, and you held your breath, praying for Charles to maintain his lead until the checkered flag.
As soon as he crossed the finish line, everyone jumped up from their seats, including you. The air was filled with a mix of cheers, applause, and jubilation as Charles secured the victory he had fought so hard for.
Emotions overwhelmed you, and you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride and joy for him.
You rushed to the podium, eager to congratulate Charles on his well-deserved win. Your heart swelled with pride as you embraced him, knowing that your unwavering support had played a small part in his momentous victory.
Charles stepped out of his racing car, his face beaming with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph. The crowd erupted into a thunderous applause, recognizing his incredible skill and determination in securing the hard-fought victory.
When he finally found you, Charles quickly hugged you tightly, his grip filled with gratitude and genuine appreciation.
The bond between you and Charles had grown stronger through countless races, and this victory was a testament to the unwavering support and belief you had in each other.
As his head was tucked into your neck, you gently stroked his hair in response, feeling the weight of his exhaustion and the elation of his triumph. In that moment, you knew that all the sacrifices, the late nights, and the unwavering support were worth it, as you celebrated this unforgettable victory together.
"You did it," you whispered, your voice filled with pride and admiration. "All your hard work and determination paid off. I couldn't be happier for you."
Charles smiled against your neck and whispered back, "Thank you for always believing in me. I couldn't have done it without you."
Charles then let go of you and looked into your eyes before saying, "Can you meet me in my driver's room after? I have something important to discuss with you."
"Sure," you nodded as he was taken away by a staff member. As you watched Charles disappear into the crowd, your mind raced with anticipation, wondering what he could possibly have to discuss with you.
As you watched Charles make his way to the podium, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for his remarkable achievement. The sight of him standing tall, his face glowing with a mixture of exhaustion and triumph, filled you with immense pride.
It was a moment that would forever be etched in your memory, a testament to the years of hard work and determination that had brought him to this point.
"He likes you, you know,"
Startled by Arthur Leclerc's sudden appearance, you turned to face him with a surprised expression. "What do you mean?" you asked, curious about his comment.
Arthur smirked mischievously and replied, "Oh, come on. It's obvious. Charles talks about you all the time. I think he's finally ready to take your relationship to the next level."
You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Oh, Arthur, you've got it all wrong. Charles and I are just friends."
Arthur's eyebrows raised at your comment. "Maman says otherwise, she's always talking about you," he said with a smirk.
You felt a mix of surprise and curiosity, wondering what Charles' mother could possibly be saying about you.
"Just know that the family will welcome you in with open arms if you two get together," Arthur added, his mischievous smirk widening. As he walked away, leaving you with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more between you and Charles than just friendship.
As Charles stood on the podium, he couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude and honor as the Prince of Monaco handed him the golden trophy. The gleaming trophy symbolized not only his extraordinary victory, but also the recognition and respect he had earned from the racing community and the world at large.
In that moment, as the national anthem played and Charles made a point to lock eyes with you, it felt like a silent affirmation of his feelings. The intensity of his gaze left you with no doubt that there was something more than friendship between you two, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation for what the future might hold.
In that moment, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread through your chest, matching the pride evident in his eyes. As the applause filled the air, you realized that your own feelings for Charles had grown deeper than you had allowed yourself to admit.
The future suddenly seemed full of possibilities, and you couldn't wait to explore them together. . . .
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As the celebrations continued, you found yourself caught up in the whirlwind of joy and excitement surrounding Charles and Ferrari's victory. The atmosphere was electric, filled with cheers, laughter, and the clinking of champagne glasses.
In that moment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness for Charles and a deep sense of pride for being a part of his journey.
A staff member approached you with a message, informing you that Charles was looking for you amidst the celebrations.
As your heart raced with anticipation, you couldn't help but wonder what he wanted to say and how this momentous victory would further solidify the bond between you.
"Charles wants to see you," they said, their voice filled with urgency. Intrigued and slightly nervous, you followed the staff member through the crowd and made your way to Charles' private suite.
As you knocked on the door, your heart raced with anticipation, wondering what Charles wanted to discuss with you in this intimate setting.
As you wait for Charles to open the door, a mix of excitement and nervousness floods your senses. Your heart pounds in your chest, and your mind races with possibilities of what he might say.
In this moment, every second feels like an eternity, and you can't help but wonder how this conversation will shape the future of your relationship.
You heard the sound of footsteps growing louder and closer to the door, causing your anticipation to heighten. Each step seemed to echo in your ears, building up the tension and making you even more eager to see Charles and hear what he had to say.
As you heard the footsteps come closer to the door, your anticipation grew. The sound of Charles' voice calling your name sent a thrill through your entire body, and you couldn't wait to see the expression on his face as he opened the door.
"Yes, it's me Charles," you responded, a smile spreading across your face.
The door swung open, revealing Charles with a mixture of excitement and nervousness mirrored in his eyes.
When you met Charles' gaze, there was something in his eyes that took your breath away: a blend of lust and desire that took you by surprise.
His eyes scanned your whole body slowly, taking in every detail with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, his gaze filled with a newfound appreciation and longing.
As his eyes scanned your whole body slowly, you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was as if he was undressing you with his gaze, his desire palpable in the air. You couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation, wondering what he had in mind for the two of you.
It was as if he was taking in every detail, every curve, every nuance, and savoring the moment.
"Charles?"
For a brief moment, Charles blinked and locked eyes with you, seemingly forgetting the intimate setting you were in. The intensity of his gaze broke the tension, and you could sense a deep connection forming between you.
It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.
"Come in," he said, widening the door for you, his voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability. As you stepped inside, the outside world seemed to disappear, leaving only the possibility of what this conversation could bring.
"What is it that you wanted to talk about, Charles?" you asked, your voice filled with curiosity and a hint of nervousness.
Charles took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice steady yet filled with a hint of vulnerability. "I wanted to talk about us," he whispered, his words hanging in the air
"There's something I've been meaning to tell you, something I've been holding back for far too long.
You nodded, encouraging him to say it, your heart pounding with anticipation. The words hung in the air, and you could feel the weight of his confession building.
Charles took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity. "I wanted to talk about us," he began, his words hanging in the air. "I've realized that I can't ignore my feelings for you any longer. I've fallen in love with you."
Your eyes widened at his statement, unable to believe what you were hearing. The room fell silent as you processed his words, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and uncertainty.
"Oh no, I knew it wasn't going to work," Charles muttered into his hands, taking your silence as an assumption that you rejected him. But little did he know, your silence was not a sign of rejection, but rather a moment of shock and disbelief.
You were quick to realize that Charles misunderstood your silence, so you walked over to him and gently took his hands off his face, meeting his eyes with a reassuring gaze.
As his scared eyes met your excited eyes, a moment of vulnerability passed between you. You could see the fear of rejection lingering in his gaze, while your eyes reflected a mixture of surprise and joy. In that instant, you knew that this confession meant as much to him as it did to you, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and affection for him.
"I love you too, Charles," you whispered as you cupped his cheeks gently. The weight of his confession lifted off both of you, replaced by an overwhelming sense of happiness and relief.
In that moment, Charles couldn't contain his joy and excitement. He quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, wrapping his hands around your waist, as if afraid that you might slip away.
The warmth of his embrace reassured you that his love was genuine, and you couldn't help but melt into his arms, feeling a sense of safety and belonging that you had longed for.
"Can I?" he muttered, pulling back from the hug enough to stare at your lips. The intense desire in his eyes matched the longing in his voice, as if he was seeking permission to seal his confession with a passionate kiss.
Without hesitation, you leaned in, closing the distance between your lips. The moment your mouths met, a surge of electricity coursed through your bodies, igniting a fire that had been simmering between you. The kiss was passionate and filled with all the pent-up emotions that had been building since the moment you met.
As your lips met, a wave of butterflies fluttered in your stomach, a tingling sensation spread through your chest, and your knees felt weak with anticipation.
The intensity of the kiss confirmed that the connection between you and Charles was not only emotional, but also physical, leaving you both breathless and craving for more. . . .
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Their bodies moved as one, their hands exploring every inch of each other's skin. Their breaths intertwined in a symphony of desire as they surrendered to the heat of their passion.
Soft moans escaped their lips, mingling with whispered words of love and longing. In the midst of their ecstasy, their eyes locked, conveying a depth of connection that words could never capture.
"I've waited so long for this," Charles whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and adoration.
"Me too," you responded, your voice laced with pure bliss.
In that intimate moment, every touch felt like the caress of silk against skin. Your fingertips danced across each other's bare flesh, creating a symphony of pleasure that sent shivers down your spine.
Charles carried you onto the sofa, laying you down as he kneeled over you, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own.
You gasp as Charles's lips make contact with your neck, his touch sending electric currents through your body.
The sensation of his warm breath against your skin intensifies the desire pooling within you, as you arch your neck, granting him further access to explore the depths of your pleasure.
Charles' hands moved with purpose, skillfully undoing the buttons of your blouse one by one. As each article of clothing fell away, he whispered seductive words of praise and desire in your ear, igniting a deeper sense of arousal within you.
You surrendered to his words, intoxicated by the way he took control and unleashed a wave of passion that consumed you both.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to explore every inch of you, to taste every part of your pleasure."
His words sent shivers down your spine, fueling your desire and leaving you yearning for more of his commanding touch.
You respond with a low, sultry moan, your body arching further into his touch, silently begging for more. The sound of your moans only adds to Charles's desire, fueling his determination to fulfill your every craving and ignite a passion that would consume you both. "I want you, Y/N," he said, his voice low and husky. "I want you so badly."
The intensity of your desire could be seen in your eyes when you looked up at him.
"I want you too, Charles," you said, biting your lower lip.
"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I can't believe you're mine."
You smiled up at him, your eyes filled with love.
"I'm all yours, Charles," you said, reaching up to pull him down on top of you.
Charles didn't waste any time. He kissed you deeply, your tongues dancing together in a passionate embrace. He ran his hands over your body, feeling every curve and contour.
"Fuck, Y/N, you feel amazing," he said, his breath hot against your ear.
You moaned, your body writhing beneath him.
"Charles, please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me."
Charles didn't need any more encouragement. He positioned himself at your entrance, his dick throbbing with need.
"Are you ready for me, Y/N?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.
You nodded, your eyes wide with desire.
"Yes, Charles, I'm ready," you said, your voice trembling with anticipation.
Charles pushed inside you, feeling your tight warmth surround him. He groaned with pleasure, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm.
"Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good," he said, his voice filled with wonder.
You moaned, your fingers digging into his back, as Charles continued to move inside you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
"Charles, don't stop," you begged, your hips meeting his with every thrust.
Charles couldn't stop if he wanted to. He was lost in the pleasure of being inside you, of feeling your body respond to his touch.
"Come for me, Y/N," he said, his voice husky with desire. "I want to feel you come apart in my arms." "I'm so close, Charles," you gasped, your voice filled with desperation. "Please, don't stop."
Charles's movements became faster and more intense, his breathing ragged. "I won't stop, Y/N," he growled, his voice filled with determination. "I want you to come for me, to lose yourself in pleasure."
The room filled with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic slapping of your bodies coming together. As the intensity built, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, ready to fall into ecstasy.
And then, with one final thrust, you shattered, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of orgasm washed over you.
Charles kissed your forehead gently. "I promise, Y/N. I'll never let you go. You're my everything."
And in that moment, as you melted into each other's arms, you knew that this was a love that would withstand any obstacle. . . .
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drifty-draws · 6 months ago
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reconnecting to therianthropy ideas
hello y'all! first post! so recently i had a friend ask me how they can get reconnected to therianthropy, so i made a list and i thought i'd post it here!
-take walks in the woods or wild space -listen to a stream running while sleeping -sometimes when i sleep, i curl up into a ball on top of my covers -watch documentaries about your theriotype -go swimming in a lake and play on the shore if you have an aquatic theriotype -listen to your theriotype’s vocals -eat meat, if you’re a carnivore, or eat a salad if you’re a herbivore -take a cold shower and pretend it’s a waterfall -i’m dragonkin and being on the prow of a boat feels an awful lot like flying, but other options are standing facing the wind with arms outstretched, watching flying POVs with a fan pointed at you, and daydreaming, i guess -make a mask out of cardboard or buy a base (it’s okay if you can’t!) -lay in the sun outside -play with a pet, if you have one -if you have a lupine theriotype, play Wolfquest 3 Anniversary Edition on Steam. i’ve heard it has amazing graphics and hunting! -chew on something rubbery. i have an inflated rubber egg that i love to chew on -make a tail out if yarn. it takes a LOT of time and effort, but it feels good once completed -put glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling to simulate the night sky -watch Wolfwalkers, Brother Bear, Nimona (all relate to shapeshifting into a creature) -read Warriors if you have a feline theriotype -read Nat. Geo. magazines and articles -i like wearing sunglasses on my head because it feels like i have ears, but you could also wear a hat or a headband -draw your theriotype -if you have a nocturnal theriotype, try pulling an all nighter (if your parents will let you) -try hunting one of your stuffed animals (close the door in case you shift -climb a tree! -look up videos on how to get a shift by meditating (i personally don’t meditate but i’ve heard it works) -if you’re home alone, put a bowl of water or soup on the floor and eat/drink it like your theriotype would -if you can, try to get a tag to hunt something for real! when i hunt, it really connects me to nature (if you can’t, don’t sweat it) -go on a hike and try to act like your theriotype -make a den in your room or backyard -paint rocks or shells -decorate your room to match your theriotype -do quads, if your body allows. don’t worry about having the perfect form or jumping high, just have fun! you feel more natural the more you do it (i find going up stairs or uphill to be easiest) -find alterhumans in your area and make a pack -look at therian boards and concept art on pinterest -make a paw imprint in clay then hang it up -make a hidden therian/otherkin symbol in your room
thanks for reading my ramble! if you have more ideas, please feel free to comment!
stay wild 🐾 -drifty
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brunchable · 2 months ago
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Secret Santa | S. R.
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Pairings: Steve Rogers x F!Reader Themes: Ex-lovers. Petty Revenge but Steve is just sweet ;_; Summary: You and Steve are forced to participate in your friend group Secret Santa gift exchange, and of course, you end up assigned to each other. You're determined to give him the worst gift possible, but his surprisingly thoughtful present throws you off—and leaves you questioning your assumptions about him. A/N: This oneshot is a part of my 4K follower Christmas Celebration. Also this one will be connected to Santa Baby that will be released next week. dividers by @saradika-graphics
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It wasn’t your idea to do Secret Santa. You’d never suggest something so contrived, so obviously destined for disaster. No, this brilliant plan came courtesy of Nat, whose mischievous smirk while handing out the hat of names told you she knew exactly what she was doing.
The moment you unfolded the slip of paper and saw his name, you felt the universe mocking you. Steve Rogers. Captain Perfect. Your ex.
You stared at the paper as though sheer willpower might summon a new name. It didn’t. Across the room, Steve raised his eyebrows as he read his own slip, the corner of his mouth twitching. You had a sinking suspicion the universe had played a cruel joke on him, too.
“What are the odds?” Nat said, sidling up next to you with a glass of wine.
“Oh, I don’t know. Rigged?” you hissed back, crumpling the paper in your fist.
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Steve Rogers had a habit of ruining things. Like relationships. Or, in this case, your plans to breeze through the gift exchange with a generic mug or a gift card. No, this was war. You were going to find the most obnoxious, useless gift imaginable. The kind of thing that screamed, I know exactly what you hate, and I’m leaning into it.
You weren’t just shopping for a gift. You were shopping for revenge.
The mall was an absolute hellscape of holiday cheer—children screaming, Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas Is You blasting on loop, and couples holding hands like it wasn’t a battlefield. You were on a mission, weaving through the chaos, hunting for something so heinous that it would make Steve Rogers cringe.
The first store you entered was a pop-culture knick-knack shop. It was overflowing with mugs that said, “Live, Laugh, Love,” and socks decorated with pizza slices. You rolled your eyes. Too tame. Too basic. No, you needed something with bite. Something so wrong that Steve would open it and instantly regret ever existing.
That’s when you saw it. A coffee mug. But not just any coffee mug.
It was massive, comically oversized, the kind of mug that could double as a soup bowl. Bright red, with bold, white text plastered across the front:
“WORLD’S OKAYEST LOVER.”
You snorted so loudly a nearby teenager gave you a dirty look. But it wasn’t enough. Oh no. You needed more.
Two hours later, you stumbled into the most chaotic store in the mall: an unhinged combination of novelty items, offensive gag gifts, and borderline illegal paraphernalia. The walls were lined with things like glow-in-the-dark shot glasses shaped like butts and calendars full of “inspirational” quotes… all of which were expletives. And there, under a flashing neon sign that screamed, BEST GIFT IDEAS EVER, you found it.
The pièce de résistance.
A calendar. Not just any calendar, though. It was titled:
“12 Months of Aggressive Affirmations.”
The cover featured a cartoon bunny flipping the bird. Each month was worse than the last—January read: “GET UP AND FUCKING WIN,” February shouted, “STOP BEING A SAD LITTLE BITCH,” and March simply screamed, “YOU’RE NOT THE PROBLEM, EVERYONE ELSE IS JUST DUMB AS SHIT.”
You couldn’t breathe. You were doubled over, tears streaming down your face as you clutched the calendar. It was perfect. Aggressive. Vulgar. Completely unnecessary. And most importantly? It would absolutely short-circuit Steve Rogers’ clean-cut, wholesome brain.
You slapped it down on the counter, ignoring the cashier’s judgmental look as they scanned it.
“You okay?” they asked, clearly unnerved by the manic grin plastered across your face.
“Oh, I’m great,” you said, pulling out your card. “This is going to make someone very uncomfortable.”
————
On the day of the exchange, you could hardly contain your excitement. The calendar was wrapped in gaudy, glittery paper that shed sparkles everywhere—another little insult aimed directly at Steve. When he finally picked it up, his brow furrowed at the excessive tape you’d used to ensure he’d struggle opening it.
Everyone watched as he peeled away the layers, muttering something about how you always made things difficult. But when the calendar came into view, his face went completely blank.
“‘Aggressive Affirmations,’” he read aloud, flipping to January. “‘GET UP AND FUCKING WIN.’” His lips twitched, but he refused to give you the satisfaction of a laugh. Instead, he held it up, deadpan. “Wow. You really went for it.”
“You’re welcome,” you said, smirking.
Nat practically fell off the couch laughing. “This is… incredible.”
“Yeah, this’ll look great in his bedroom,” Bucky added, snatching it to flip through the months. “Oh, man, look at June. ‘YOU’RE HOTTER THAN A FUCKING FOREST FIRE.’ Steve, this is the kind of energy you need.”
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “I hate all of you.”
But when you caught his eye, you saw it—a flicker of amusement, quickly smothered by exasperation.
“This is going in my gym. Where no one else can see it.” He put the calendar down carefully, shaking his head. 
“Oh no,” you said, grinning wickedly. “It’s going on your fridge. Front and center. So every morning, you can start your day with a dose of aggressive self-love.”
Steve sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know whether to be mad or impressed.”
“Oh, be impressed,” you said, raising your glass. “It’s the best gift you’ll ever get.”
And when he smiled—small, reluctant, but genuine.
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Steve wasn’t good at gifts. Not because he didn’t try, but because he overthought everything. For him, giving a gift wasn’t just about handing someone an object; it was a gesture, a piece of himself. And when it came to you—well, he hadn’t earned the right to give you anything, had he?
The relationship ended because of him. That much was clear. He’d been the one who pulled away, too overwhelmed by his own insecurities and the shadow of the life he thought he couldn’t offer you. And yet, here he was, standing in front of a boutique window, staring at the dress he knew you’d wanted for months.
He remembered the first time he saw you touch it. You weren’t even shopping for yourself. You’d dragged him into the boutique while looking for a birthday gift for Natasha, weaving through the racks with easy confidence. But then, you stopped.
Just for a moment.
The dress was simple—red silk, with delicate straps and a neckline that dipped just enough to make you bite your lip in that nervous way he loved. Your fingers brushed over the fabric, and you sighed, soft and wistful.
“Beautiful,” you’d murmured, almost to yourself.
Steve had stood a few steps behind, pretending to check his phone. He remembered how quickly you moved on, like you didn’t want to linger too long. You probably thought he hadn’t noticed. But he did. He always noticed.
Now, months later, Steve stood in the same boutique, heart pounding like he was about to charge into battle. The sales associate greeted him with a warm smile, clearly trying not to gawk at the former Captain America standing awkwardly among racks of designer dresses.
“I’m looking for a gift,” he said, clearing his throat.
“For someone special?”
He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “Yeah. She’s, uh... she’s special.”
The associate nodded knowingly and led him straight to the dress. “This one’s a favorite. Classic, elegant.”
Steve reached out, fingers grazing the fabric just as yours had. It felt like silk against his calloused palms—soft, delicate, everything he wasn’t sure he deserved to touch.
“She looked at this one,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “A while ago. I don’t think she thought I noticed.”
The associate smiled gently. “Well, you noticed. That’s what matters.”
He bought it without hesitation, ignoring the price tag. The dress came in a sleek black box tied with a ribbon, and Steve carried it home like it was the most precious thing in the world.
————
That night, Steve sat at his kitchen table with the box in front of him, a pen poised over a blank card. Words had never been his strong suit, but he needed you to know this wasn’t just a gift—it was an apology, a hope, a quiet confession.
After a long moment, he began to write:
Y/N,
I’m not great at words, but you always told me it’s the thought that counts. I saw you look at this dress once, and I don’t know if you even remember, but I do. You should have something beautiful because you deserve everything beautiful in the world. I know I’m the last person who should be saying that. But maybe this can say what I haven’t been able to.
—Steve
He stared at the card for a long time before tucking it into the box.
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On the day of the gift exchange, Steve handed you the box without a word. Your name was scrawled on the tag in his careful handwriting. You hesitated, eyeing him warily, but curiosity got the better of you.
As you untied the ribbon and opened the lid, your breath caught.
The dress.
The room felt smaller somehow, the chatter of your friends fading into the background. You didn’t know what to say, and Steve didn’t push. He just stood there, watching you with that quiet, earnest expression that used to make your heart ache.
Your fingers brushed over the fabric, just as they had that day in the boutique. For a moment, you couldn’t speak.
“You remembered?” you finally whispered, looking up at him.
Steve shrugged, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “I always remember.”
You froze at his words, the weight of them pressing down on your chest. It wasn’t just the dress—it was everything. All the times he’d been paying attention when you thought he wasn’t. All the moments you’d convinced yourself he didn’t care.
Your throat tightened as guilt began to creep in, sharp and relentless.
“I—” You stopped, fingers curling into the fabric. The silk felt too soft, too expensive, too meaningful in your hands. “Steve, I don’t... I don’t deserve this.”
His brow furrowed, and he took a small step closer. “Why would you say that?”
You laughed weakly, a bitter sound. 
“Because I’ve spent weeks trying to think of the worst gift to give you. Something obnoxious. Something petty. And you...” You gestured at the dress, your voice breaking slightly. “You did this.”
His gaze softened, but there was something unreadable in his eyes.
“Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “You don’t have to feel guilty about that. I get it. You’re angry at me. You have every right to be.”
You shook your head, the lump in your throat growing. “But I shouldn’t still be mad. It’s been months. You tried, Steve. You really tried, and I—”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he interrupted gently.
But that only made it worse. Because you did—not for being angry, but for the way you’d handled it. For not seeing how hard he was trying now.
“I just—” You exhaled shakily, holding the dress tighter against you. “I thought you weren’t paying attention. That I didn’t matter to you like that. And now... this.”
Steve’s jaw tensed, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. 
“You mattered,” he said simply, the rawness in his tone cutting straight through you. “You always mattered. I just... didn’t know how to show it before.”
The room was suddenly too warm, too loud. You felt exposed, vulnerable under his gaze. His words clung to you like static, leaving no room to breathe.
You lowered your eyes, staring down at the dress in your hands. “This... it’s beautiful, Steve. It’s too much. I don’t deserve it after—”
“You do,” he interrupted, his voice firm this time. “You deserve something beautiful. Even if you hate me, Y/N.”
You glanced up sharply at that, seeing the way his eyes flickered with something like regret—or maybe hope.
“I'm sorry. I don’t—” You stopped yourself. Lying felt crueller than the truth. “I don’t hate you, Steve. I just... I don’t know what to do with all of this.”
He smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You don’t have to do anything. It’s a gift. No strings attached.”
And somehow, that made the guilt worse. Because he meant it. You could tell. And it left you wondering if maybe he’d always meant it, even when he didn’t know how to show it.
“Thank you,” you said softly, clutching the dress like a lifeline.
Steve nodded, his hands still buried in his pockets as he stepped back, giving you space. But his eyes lingered, and for the first time in months, you felt like you really saw him. Not the perfect soldier, not your ex—but the man who’d been paying attention all along.
Tags: @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @strawberrybisou @alyana-luvs-u @rogersbarber @veronicapaula
@fynnwolff @bmyva1entine @thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @awaywithtime
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gatorlovebot · 1 year ago
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nsfw. mdni. this is self indulgent but its my right as a 20 something who is getting ready to move out on their own for the first time to write about landlord john price ok <3
landlord price who buys a nice looking duplex in the city and fixes it up himself. lives in the top floor because he doesn’t need much space to himself and rents out the bottom unit. so far it had mostly been couples or smaller familes renting out the bottom unit, until you came along.
you, who had been saving money to rent something nice for yourself, something with a little extra space. the two bedroom downstairs unit is perfect for you, but you have pretty mixed feelings about your landlord living right above you. until you actually meet him.
upon moving in your greeted by the warm accent of john price. his eyes crinkle when he smiles at you and you can pick out grey hairs in his full beard. it’s so cliche, feeling butterflies for an older man whose kind to you but what are you supposed to do when he offers to help you bring in boxes, muscly arms on full display?
he allows you time and space to get settled in, with a promise of, “i’m just upstairs if you ever need anything.”
you don’t see him for the next few days until there’s a knock at your door and its him, looking soft and sweet in a grey henley, just in time for the colder fall weather. “would you care to join me for dinner? i tried a new soup recipe and seems like a i have enough to feed a small army.”
and that’s how you end up in his space for the first time. it’s tiday yet lived in. furniture dark and worn. you can tell a man lives here. dinner is nice, soup rich and filling. but john makes it so much better. effortlessly making you laugh with his bad jokes and stories. he’s warm and personable. your little crush grows when he walks you back downstairs to your unit when the sun goes down. you find yourself struggling to go inside to your empty apartment.
some days you see him and some days you don’t. your work schedule is consistent but you can’t get a read on his schedule, coming and going unpredicatably. life of a retiree, you think.
sometimes you catch him when you’ve come home from work. usually you’re thrilled to see him, an immediate smile stretching across your face and a blush on your cheeks as soon as you see his smile and hear his voice.
sometimes you curse his presence. like now, when you can’t even wait until you get inside your place before the tears start to fall. and of course john has to be in the front yard racking up leaves. you try to give a polite hello and walk up the steps inside, but john price can already read you like a book.
he’s pulling you into his chest before you even know it, big, solid arms wrapped around your shoulders holding you snug to him. “what’s got you so upset, huh?”
and you let the tears fall in earnest, feeling safe and secure with john. “work…just fucking sucks.”
“oh you poor thing,” he coos before gathering you up in his arms and leading you up to his place. he brews some tea as you sink into his couch, the leather warm and soft underneath you. once the teas done, he settles next to you and let’s you warble on about how unsupportive your work environment is and how your boss never follows through on his promises. he mostly just lets you talk, letting out an occasional hum in affirmation. that night he’s not very talkative, he’s much more tactile. running his hands up and down your arms, rubbing the tension from your shoulders and back as he allows you to lean on him until you’re practically in his lap. you’ve exhausted yourself crying and he thanks you for being so vulnerable with him and tells you that even though you don’t deserve all the bullshit at your job, you’re such a brave girl for fighting through it.
things continue to get more and more comfortable between you two. you would almost go as far as to say you would consider him a friend. you do still sometimes have awkward moments though. like when you go down to the basement to change your laundry from the washer to the dryer and you find him already placing your garments in. “oh sorry,” he says, flustered, a tinge of pink dusting his cheeks at being caught. “i spilt some paint on myself earlier while touching up the trim outside and really needed to get some stuff in the washer. i was going to message you asking if all this stuff could go in the dryer.”
he’s so thoughtful, you think. “yeah, it can all go in. thanks, john!”
hours later when you’re finally putting away your clean laundry you realize some of your panties are missing. oh well, its an older dryer, must have eaten them.
its months layer when your stomach drops as you read a text from john asking if you could come upstairs later tonight, there was something he needed to talk to you about. you feel a flash of panic, his text sounding serious. did you do something wrong? you had just seen him the previous day and everything between you seemed fine. you thought you were a great renter, but now you weren’t so sure.
you make your way up to his place and he greets you at the door, usual soft smile on his face.
“i just wanted to get something out in the open,” he starts as you both take a seat on the couch. “i’ve noticed an odor coming from downstairs late at night.”
for a moment you have no idea what he could be talking about, an odor, you think and then it hits you. your late night smoke sessions. “oh, yeah.” it dawns on you. “i’m so sorry about that.”
“no, no, it’s fine.” he reassures, “i would be a bit of a hypocrite myself to be honest, i smoke cigars constantly. try to keep it to just the back balcony but sometimes i break my own rules.”
“yeah, i don’t do it in the apartment because that would be rude, but,” you wince, “sometimes i get a little too lazy to go outside so i just do it out my bedroom window.”
“ah, no worries, dear. just wanted to let you know that i know.”
with your panic subsiding you feel a little bold, “would you like to smoke a little, john?”
“if you’re offering, i’ll be on the balcony.”
you would have never imagined sharing a joint with john would lead you here. in his lap, legs splayed open with your pants around your ankles. listening to the wet sounds of your pussy as he dips his big fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots. your brain is floaty and your limbs feel weightless against his big body that surrounds yours.
there’s a constant stream of nonsense and whimpers that leaves your lips as you dumbly watch him pet your swollen clit. but its the filth from his mouth that really gets you. “such a pretty little thing fo’ me, huh?”
“this little cunt ‘s all mine, right?”
“i’ve been thinking about touching you like this since the day you moved in.”
“cum on my fingers, sweet girl, i know you want to.”
and you do, clenching around his fingers as you keen and moan through it. there’s a whispered, “good girl,” deep and gravelly in your ear before you’re being lifted into john’s arms as he carries you back inside, to his bedroom.
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moominsuki · 2 years ago
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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — anyone would be silly not to love you, katsuki.
࿄ ! warnings — f!reader, no warnings. so fluffy it’s sickeningly sweet.
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katsuki knows that he’s a little difficult to deal with sometimes. to love is a different story altogether.
from a young age, he never really cared about what others thought about him. he wasn’t interested in friends, tolerated his family and he didn’t care for women at all. and at 16, he deemed this to be a perfect way to live.
well, now he was 22. who knew that loneliness would hit him in tumultuous spouts of self loathing and bitterness? not him, that’s for sure. he sees his friends getting into relationships and while he’s thankful that they always include him in things despite his brash attitude and sharp tongue, there’s an embittered taste on his tongue that lingers when he sees kirishima and his girlfriend.
katsuki doesn’t think he’s particularly unattractive either and women do approach him; unfortunately, they’re left sour by his mannerisms and deadpan tone of voice. at 18, he didn’t care that girls didn’t really understand him. but four years is a heck of a long time to change your view on things: things being love.
you tell him that anyone would be silly not to love him.
katsuki has known you since he was a stupid, brooding adolescent kid. he thinks it’s a blessing and a curse that you came into his life so forcefully, uprooting yourself and plopping your ass into the middle of it. he’d never tell you but sometimes when he’s on blind dates with the next girl that denki thinks is “the one,” all he can think about is you: especially when his forgettable date orders your favourite, barbecued duck noodle soup, to be exact and he remembers when you made that for him on his 18th birthday.
when you come over to his place to cook dinner and watch a film, you ask about his date and katsuki alludes to the failure of it and that she also “eats really noisily,” a pet peeve of the blond’s. you frown cutely, like you always do when he tells you about the flings that don’t go well.
“well, anyone would be silly not love you, katsuki,” you’d always say and it was routinely with the way he’d stand behind the kitchen island and you’d smile at him, eyes crinkled and shining, making a raspy breath hitch in his throat.
and when dinner was ready, you’d set out both your bowls of dumplings and duck and sometimes you’d put on a netflix show that you really like (katsuki thinks netflix sucks but for you, he’d watch paint dry); however, this time, you opt to just talking, catching up on your day and the plans for the week.
“y’know, blind dates aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway. statistically speaking, your soulmate is probably someone you’ve known all your life,” you say candidly, slurping noisily and katsuki watches you thoughtfully before scoffing, all bemused.
“i speak to maybe four women, including you and my ma. great odds,” and you giggle at that, making his heart jump while some soup dribbles down your chin.
“there’s someone out there for everyone, okay! and who are the other women besides me and your mom?” you raise a brow jokingly and katsuki lifts a hand to softly flick at your head.
“just coworkers. like i said, the odds ain’t great,” he grumbles and you rub at the spot on your head before resting your hand on top of his and lifting it back up to press it to your warm cheek.
“you have me! am i not enough woman for you?”
katsuki’s eyes soften and his thumb subconsciously rubs across your skin.
“plenty ‘nuff woman for me. don’t know who else could put up with me,” he says earnestly and both your eyes widen almost comically at the words that slipped out of his mouth.
he’s about to dejectedly pull his hand away when you slightly lean into his touch, “it’s like i said. anyone would be silly not to love you,” and you angle your face so your plump lips kiss into his thumb.
you decide not to comment on the reddening tips of his ears and the pink dusting across the golden specks of freckles on his cheekbones, to save him from the embarrassment.
maybe it’s the years from knowing katsuki that allows you to always say the 8 words: from seeing him transition from a brash, harsh, emotionally constipated 17 year old who was at least three inches shorter than you (he would vehemently deny the passing of time in which you would tower over him) to an almost 23 year old man, who picks you up from school most days, who’d wash your makeup off when you got too heavy handed with the liquor, who knows your order at the local chinese off by heart and who is now definitely almost a foot taller than you.
before katsuki washes up, he shyly asks you to stay the night - in his own roundabout way of being timid, which includes his heavy voice and a seldom amount of eye contact - and you normally do sometimes, with him sleeping on the couch while you take up his kingsize bed. your heart shakes a little in your chest but of course, you smile in reply and nod. you and him both know that this time, it’s different.
“we can stay in my bed… if you want,” mumbles the man gruffly and this time, you bite back a smile. dealing with katsuki meant that you didn’t like to fluster him at times where he was opening up to you, albeit in small, crumbly pieces.
you nod again and reply.
“of course.”
it’s 9:35pm on the dot when you both settle into the duvet of his huge bed and katsuki is kind of stiff, to say the least, and there’s a metaphorical wall between you two. you think he’s staring straight up to the ceiling, if his breathing pattern and the slight glow of his red eyes told you anything.
“is it okay if we cuddle?” you whisper, turning to your side to face him and you think you did something right because he breaks out of his self-doubting stupor and after a few moments, opens up his arms to your smaller body as a leg wraps around his waist and an arm drapes across his chest.
“you okay, katsuki?” you whisper again. “did i do something?” and he can hear the pout and the furrowed brow in your voice.
katsuki all but he wraps an arm around to pull you closer, “no. just go to sleep, dumbass.”
you pull yourself up and he panics a little but he can slightly make out the smug grin on playing on your lips and your bright eyes in the dark as you lean on his chest to be level with his face.
“i promise no one under the age of 45 goes to bed at half 9. you’re so lucky you have me,” and before he can ask what you mean on “having you,” you press your lips onto his and it’s ended before it even started. the taste of his mouthwash and your chapstick lingers and he’s stiff all over again.
“anyone would be silly not to love you, even if you act like an old man,” you sigh, bonking your head softly onto his and he inhales deeply, playing with the hem of his shirt draped on your body.
“don’ need anyone else to love me when i have you, right?”
he can see the smile that reaches your eyes, crinkles and all.
“you might be right about that,” you hum and katsuki leans up to nose around your jaw before locking lips with you properly.
katsuki knows that he’s a little difficult to deal with sometimes. to love is a different story altogether. but when you look at him like that: like he has the world on his fingertips, encased in ribbon and inscribed in lettering addressed just for you, he decides that he’ll never accept anything but the best.
even if he is a little bit of a grandpa. but you’d be silly not to love him.
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࿄ ! — all rights reserved © moominsuki. please do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend my work outside of tumblr. this is strictly prohibited.
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st0r-fruit · 1 year ago
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Overlord Reader Hcs
A/N: Hi, this is my first time writing headcanons for reader, so please let me know if I made any mistakes! I made this because i thought it'd be nice and cool to have a reader as an overlord. A heads up that i haven't fully watched Hazbin so there might be inaccuracies.
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You're an overlord, right? And not just an overlord, you're one of the richest, next to the Vee's.
You own a fine plaza of drugery and alcoholic, and a top quality successful companies of those. It's not a surprise, you're the overlord of substances and alcohol. Demons will pay MILLIONS of bucks to have a stash of your finest drugs.
You have a district on the border city zone in between the district's of the Vee's, Carmilla Carmine's and the inner city of Pentagram City. Your district is a melting pot of cultures due to being in the middle of other districts.
In a meeting with other Overlords, you'd take important notes and remind others if things drift away. That fight between Velvet and Camille? Yeah you had to break ice to ease tension before forgetting the main goal of the meeting.
Your seating position in meetings is on the right side of Rosie, your best friend.
Honestly? You're everybody's comfort buddy, even to Alastor. You bring in some comforting presence to other demons.
Relationships with other Overlords
Valentino is your top customer, ordering around 20 of your fine drugs, wine and fancy cigars. He is usually the one to make your stock reduced to little to nothing if he buys on a day. He doesn't trust any of the other companies who sells the exact items, even if you say it's excellent quality.
Technology in your small place is quite modern and techy, thanks to Vox. You flatter Vox on how advanced and cool his technology is, he usually is flustered and grumpy hearing that from you, but you know he likes it seeing that he gives you multiple rather big discounts on his products.
Your fashion culture is jumbled too. Making Velvette, the queen of fashion, questions each of your outfits. She's actually impressed, being able to mix and match right article of clothings. She gives you unsolicited advice on fashion, but you tried one of those once and BAM! Slayed 10x more with that advice. You'd took mental notes of her advices and thanked her whenever you can.
Speaking of clothing, you liked shopping and browsing in Rosie's Emporium. YOU are one of the favorite customers of Rosie. She loves your interest on 1910's fashion, frequently treating you on some products. You two would gossip on the emporium, spilling teas and laughing your asses out from all the stories.
Zestial likes to visit your plaza for wine tasting, loving all of your finest selections of wine and a surprisingly rare collection of teas (with cheese! You were prepared with the teas incase he didn't like any of the wine). You and him likes to talk about improvement of each districts with a side of said wine and cheese. Oh how he'd rant to you about Velvette's attitude and you'd pat his back.
Carmilla is another one of your customers, frequently ordering drugs and medicine from you. The drugs you produced somehow made her swifter at combat and confidence. On the other hand, medicines you produced was strong and high quality, it kept her from being irritated of Velvette.
Alastor was...quite the intresting demon in your opinion. Although, you try to not get any troubles with him, so acquaintance is the perfect word for the two of you. He once visited your alcohol parlor to find a nice wine to side with his mom's jambalaya. Of course you helped him, with your naturally charming personality and helpfulness, the radio demon got his wine. The next day, you received a homeade jambalaya soup from him, as a thanks for finding the nice wine. Maybe he's not that bad?
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I hope you all like it!! Let me know if you like a part 2! Or do let me know if there's any mistake!
(holyshit i reached the tag limit guy oh wow)
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myfictionaldreams · 1 year ago
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Winter Soup // Mafia!Stucky x F!Reader
Summary: There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?
Requested by: @senjoritanana​​ thank you so much, I hope you enjoy all the angst!
A/N: PSA I don't know the specifics of how poisons work and didn't want to risk it on my google history lmao so please ignore any inaccuracies. Please read the tags if you're affected by near death experiences, please proceed with caution and if I've missed any tags/warnings, please let me know!
Warnings/Tags: 18+ readers only, hints of smut, angst (LOTS BUCKLE UP), fluff, polyamory relationship, poisoning, blood and injury, anxiety, crying, begging, near death expierences, reader is injured, pain, emotional hurt/comfort, hospitalization, protective Steve Bucky and Sam, everyone needs a hug tbh
Words: 7.7k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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The warmer months were slowly starting to shift into winter and for some reason this year, the weather change was beginning to affect your health. You’d heard of the phrase ‘seasonal depression’ but you were convinced that it was due to the cooler weather that was making you feel this rubbish.
It had been happening for a week now, and some days you’d feel fine, normal in fact but then others your chest felt so tight as if an elephant was sitting on top of you, nausea, vertigo and heart palpations that would have you clutching your chest with fear you might explode. With each passing day, you would be praying for the summer months to return, especially as the snow and ice increased with intensity outside of your home.
You were fine for the most part, good days and bad; yes you might be getting worse with each passing day but you were adamant that the seasonal illness would pass. However, the frosty weather was also a minor blessing because it was your excuse to stay home and be a pretty housewife for Steve and Bucky. Being able to stay home made it easier to keep the illness to yourself as well, it was a busy time within the Rogers mafia and you didn’t need them wasting their time fretting over your wellness when they had a lot of other things to do. They had many international deals that were so close to being signed for and contracted that every waking hour was spent at the office, on phone calls, and emails, trying to talk to locals across the world to attend meetings on their behalf so the boys were thoroughly busy.
There were a few occasions you’d attended with them to the office if you were feeling particularly needy or lonely but it unnerved you to drive on the snow and ice so when you suggested that you might stay at home, Steve and Bucky offered no complaints.
At home at least you were able to mop about, trying to perk yourself up with movies, pyjamas and your favourite bowl of warm soup. Over the last few months, you’d been trying to improve your cooking skills, especially to impress Steve who usually cooked for three of you. This became more interesting as the colder months drew in over Brooklyn as this meant you could cook more homely, hearty foods such as soups and stews, especially as you had recipe suggestions from the newly hired grounds guard Rafael.
He’d been recommended by a friend of a friend for Steve to hire which was perfect timing because the last grounds guard had retired. There were a few occasions when he was the guard to bring the post to the front door from the front gate and you soon found he was enthusiastic and easy to talk to, even though he was a little bit older, which was how you found out he had previously been a chef and offered to give you recipe ideas. As winter drew in, Rafael began turning up when he knew you were by yourself to deliver some of his momma’s family recipe soups, hoping that the meal would perk you up which it did, they tasted so delicious that you were secretly hoping he would keep bringing them to you, especially as you continued to feel unwell.
“What is it today?”, you asked voice full of hope and trying to sound as upbeat as possible. Even though you were desperately holding onto the door handle as your head was spinning and scared you’d fall over.
“Potato and leek soup and they’re all grown in my back yard so hopefully you’ll love it even more than usual”, Rafael smiled as he handed over the container, his smile broad and causing the aged creases at the corner of his eyes to deepen.
Gleefully you accepted the soup, opening the lid slightly to smell the delicious meal, your stomach grumbling with hunger. Your appetite had reduced significantly over the last few days due to always feeling nauseous however it seemed the only thing that you could stomach was his delicious meals and therefore his arrival was always welcomed.
“Thank you so much! Please will you let me pay you this time? You’re being way too kind to me, always giving me free meals, you’re going above and beyond a usual guard”, you pleaded whilst also having to return holding onto the door handle as it felt like the ground was moving with your dizziness.
Rafael held up his hands and shook his head, taking a step back, “Absolutely not! Just wanted to give you something to make you feel better and make the fairies go away”.
The guard halted, a look of embarrassment passing out his features as he realised what he just said, especially as you asked, “Fairies?”
He awkwardly looked down at his shoes, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to explain, “Yeah it’s just something my momma use to say. If we were feeling unwell, it’s because the fairies had crept into our stomachs and were being naughty and making us ill and now I’ve said it out loud to another person I’ve realised how insane that sounds so I’m going to stop talking”.
You squeezed your lips together to try and contain your laughter but that lasted a moment before you were both laughing which only turned into you losing your balance against the door and swaying to keep yourself upright. The laughter died in Rafael’s eyes as he reached out to you, “Woah, you ok, Ma’am?”
Quickly brushing him off, you took a step back into your home, trying to ask nonchalantly about the situation, “Yeah sorry, probably just the fairies pushing me over”. Your joke didn’t seem to comfort him in any way as he continued to look uneased by your appearance.
Thankfully Rafael didn’t push the situation any further, seeing that you wanted to escape back into the comfort of your home, he took his step back with a simple smile. “Get back inside before you catch another cold from this snow. Eat the soup whilst it’s still warm and I’ll be back tomorrow to hear the verdict on the taste.”
“Thank you Rafael! Enjoy the rest of your day!”. You waved him off and rushed to slam the door, sliding down to the floor against the wood, losing all energy that you’d built that morning just for that one conversation. Ok yes, you were feeling sorry for yourself as you tried to catch your breath, heart pounding violently in your chest that it also echoed in your ears and your vision was still seeing double of everything.
However your stomach continued to gurgle with hunger so without wasting any more energy, you opened the lid and ate the entire contents then and there. Releasing a satisfied sigh at the delicious meal, you took another couple of minutes to gather your senses before dragging yourself over to the living room, collapsing onto your back on the couch and letting sleep take you into a dreamless realm.
A violent shake of your shoulders by a hard grip on your shoulder was what startled you awake as Sam’s voice then surrounded you as he shouted, “Hey! Wake up!”.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever been close to hating you Sam Wilson”, you croaked before coughs shattered your chest, rocking your body as you tried to sit up and suck in any air between the painful coughs. Finally, you calmed down enough to collapse back against the decorative cushions of the couch and open your eyes to look at the three Sam’s that hovered over you. After a couple more blinks, they merged into one, very distressed-looking bodyguard, eyebrows knitted together and jaw muscle clenched harshly.
Sam reached towards your face, pressing against your cheek in concern, “Why didn’t you tell me you were ill?”
“What? I’m not ill, I’m just tired, can’t a girl nap around here?” you questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying to look as relaxed as possible. 
The man didn’t look convinced as he sat on the edge of the couch next to you. Releasing a heavy sigh which only twinged something in your chest that made you want to cough but you refrained from doing so as you emphasised, “Sam seriously, I’m fine”.
Sam gave you another serious glance, eyes hardening as he explained, “You didn’t sound fine, you were wheezing so hard in your sleep I thought you were going to stop breathing”.
There was no denying the panic that filled your heart and would explain the tightened feeling in your chest but you tried to not let the fear show on your face as you rolled your eyes, reaching for his hand and squeezing it.
“I appreciate your concern Sam, but I feel ok, I’m just tired, I was probably just sleeping in a weird position and look, no wheeze now!” Taking a deep breath to show there was no more noise coming from your chest, however, it didn’t seem to comfort him in any way.
“Yeah well you’re still looking peaky and why are you so tired all the time recently, you’re never usually like this”.
“It’s probably just the cold weather or something. If I start to feel unwell, you know I’d tell you. I’m a big baby when I’m ill, you’ll be the first to know”. Sam looked to be contemplating believing you and all you were silently begging for was that he didn’t call Steve and Bucky, they just didn’t need this stress right now. Even though it was in his contract to call them at any sign of injury or illness but as Sam looked at you, other than looking tired, you seemed to be fine and still joking with him. Finally, he gave you a simple nod and you couldn't hold back the thankful sigh. “Do you mind if I go back to sleep for a little while longer or do you need me for anything?”
“You’ve been sleeping a lot recently”, he stated his earlier point again.
“What, so I’m not allowed to nap now?” you teased him with a subtle smile, hoping to crack his worried exterior. It only half worked as he shook his head to himself, standing up and pulling the fluffy blanket that had been left behind you on the couch and throwing it over your body. Before you could even thank him though, sleep had stolen you back into its resting state. 
Sleeping for a few more hours, Sam was nowhere to be seen but he usually liked to check the perimeter ever so often and speak to the other guards so you weren’t worried about his whereabouts. As you shuffled to the kitchen, you couldn’t tell if you felt any worse or better after all the sleeping, haven’t wasted another day feeling sorry for yourself, you tried to snap out of it by glancing through the refrigerator and cupboards and deciding to ssurpriseSteve and Bucky with a romantic meal.
The house was soon filled with delicious scents of sweet and savoury as you’d baked and were in the process of cooking their dinner. You were in your own little world and had only stumbled a handful of times with dizziness and the headache that was building was currently mild in comparison to others you had, it was fine you determined to yourself
Still lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even heard the front door open as you were suddenly enveloped by a muscular chest and arms, a smile aching your cheeks as you nuzzled back into Steve’s body. His lips danced over your cheek and down your neck as he held you close, the roughness of his beard comforting. “I didn’t hear you come in”, you commented, turning your head slightly to chase after his lips, sighing deeply in your chest as he held you tighter for a second, hands dipping beneath your shirt at your waist so that he could feel the warmth of your skin.
“I did shout”, he revealed whilst moving back to neck, not to kiss but just to smell you in, his body almost melting into the floor as he felt at home with the familiar scents. “I’ve missed you”, he whispered against your skin.
Goosebumps instantly flooded over your body as you shivered, turning in his arms to hug him properly, your fingers scratching through his hair that was beginning to curl at the ends where he’d allowed it to grow out over the winter months. “I’ve missed you too”, you whispered against his lips, lazily kissing and breathing each other in.
“Come with us tomorrow, I want you to be near me”, he admits with words that were making you cling to him harder.
You wanted to say yes and the word was on the tip of your tongue but then your thoughts drifted to the soup coming. “I’ve got a delivery coming that I can’t miss, I’m sorry”.
“The guards can get the delivery”, he counters.
“It’s fresh soup I want it whilst it’s hot”, an embarrassed smile finds its way to your lips as he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he just enjoyed the moment of the two of you being together.
“Soup? But we could order that to the office if you wanted it, you know that’s no issue”. 
You pout dramatically, hanging off his neck as you whisper with a childish tone, “But it won’t be the soup that I’ve ordered and want”.
Steve rolls his eyes but you know he's being playful, he could never find a reason to be upset with you. Rolling back his shoulders, he stands back to his full height, opening his eyes to cup your cheek with his massive hand but this was when he took you in and a frown dawned on his face just like it had on Sam’s. “Are you feeling ok?” The hand on your cheek moved towards your forehead, expecting to feel a temperature but it felt normal.
“I feel great”, you say with as much cheer in your tone as possible, still holding onto his neck but mostly because another wave of dizziness had rushed through you and you needed some support to stay standing.
Steve didn’t seem convinced, “You just … look a little off”.
You playfully rolled your eyes, similar to how he had just done, “Wow thanks Steve”.
“You know I didn’t mean it like that”.
“I know, I’m joking, I’m fine - really, it's nothing to worry about”. He eyes you and doesn’t fall for your grin so you tried your next trick up your sleeve. Leaning on your tip toes whilst pulling his face closer, you whispered against his lips, “I love you, Stevie”.
The tension momentarily eased from his shoulders as his grip around you tightened, “I love you too”.
“Sorry to interrupt your love fest but I want my own loving”, Bucky broadly announced from the entrance of the kitchen where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes however as you pulled back from Steve and he could finally see your face, the happiness seeped from his face. “Woah, what happened? Are you ok?”
You gave a frustrated huff, finally releasing Steve’s neck as you pointed in the direction of the decorated table. “Right, both of you go and sit down before I decide you don’t deserve any food for being mean”.
Steve shuffled away first as you continued to cook the food, Bucky looking ashamed as he came over and kissed your cheek but before he could pull away, you quickly captured his lips in a kiss to show you’d been playing before and weren’t upset.
“Why are there only two plates on the table?”  Steve questioned as he took a seat.
Without looking over your shoulder at him, you casually answered, “I’ve already had mine, I wasn’t sure when you were both going to be home and I didn’t want to wait”. They both seemed to accept your lie and you happily sat with them as they ate, asking about how the deals were going. They both seemed to be agreed that they were sure to have contracts signed tomorrow and had even been able to pay off some of the international police so that shipping of the goods could occur. In truth, after the soup, you were not feeling at all remotely hungry and even the smell of the cooked food had turned your stomach over.
A couple of hours later, the three of you were preparing for bed. Steve is in the middle and you are to his right and Bucky is to his left. You and the mafia boss had been kissing deeply for a couple of minutes, his hands beneath your shirt, brushing against your breasts, rough fingertips peaking your nipples as you ground down on his thigh. You were soaked and he could feel the evidence of it as you weren’t wearing any underwear but the longer the touches and kisses went on for, the more you were feeling unwell.
As his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and he began to trail open-mouthed kisses over your jaw and down your throat, you noticed Bucky was doing the same thing but to Steve’s neck from behind. However, there were two Bucky’s instead of one as your vision swayed and it felt as if you were on a water bed with how unsteady you felt. The headache was close to a full-blown migraine as well now which only continued to make you feel nauseous so even though there was nothing more you wanted than to continue where this intimacy was leading but, for once, you had to stop it.
“Wait, just- just one moment”, you pushed against Steve's shoulders at the same time. The blonde's hold on you loosened as he moved his face back to look into your eyes but you’d closed them, trying to hide your face from him and Bucky who had also sat up further to check on you. “I just- sorry I’m tired and I… I’m not sure- sorry.. I don’t think-”.
Steve’s fingers tipped your chin up to look at him as he smiled softly down at you, “If you don’t want to do anything, we don’t have to. If you’re tired then I’ll just hold you close, ok? Please don’t apologise for not wanting any of this”.
You relaxed in his arms, feeling grateful for him but also bad that you could feel how aroused he was against your stomach. “Thank you. I’m just feeling so tired today. Please don’t let me stop you both, continue without me, I just want to go to sleep”.
“You don’t have to give us reasons why you don’t want to do it, baby, we’ll do whatever you want to do. Me and Buck don’t have to fuck if you want to be held, I don’t want you thinking we’re neglecting you”.
Affection and love warmed your heart as you kissed Steve’s lips and then reached over his shoulder to kiss Bucky. “I love you both but seriously please continue, I like watching you both anyway so that’ll satisfy me enough if I’m not asleep by that point anyway”.
They both gave their love back to you with praises and pecks to your face before rolling away from you and beginning their exploration of each other's bodies. You watched with a smile on your face for a couple of moments and your core ached with need but as a burst of pain pounded through your temple, your eyes shut automatically to help ease the pain and from there, they never opened again as sleep took you soon after.
The next morning, your migraine had gone but your entire body felt weak and drained of any energy. Steve and Bucky took one look at you and determined that they’d be working from home, wishing to remain near you but they still needed the comfort of their home office upstairs whereas you remained downstairs, pretending to watch TV.
Somehow, you had continued to hide your seasonal illness, they just thought you still looked peaky. Today was the worst you’d felt so far, even having to use the wall as support whilst walking around the home, silently coughing into cushions so that the boys wouldn’t hear upstairs and this only increased the sharp pain shooting through your chest.
At lunchtime, Sam came over to visit and found you at the table in the kitchen, head lying against the table top as you dipped in and out of sleep. You were too tired to even pretend to joke and thankfully for once he didn’t pester you with being unwell, especially knowing Steve and Bucky were home, he assumed they had seen how bad you were so he just sat next to you at the table, easing his hand under your head so you had some comfort against the hard surface.
Soon after, Rafael knocked on the front door with your soup delivery. Usually h,e would stay at the door, never coming into your home but Sam insisted that he come out of the cold and deliver the soup to you in person.
“Yay!” you croaked, reaching out for the warm container, seeing the soup within and seeing that it was a deep red colour today, possibly tomato.
“I didn’t know you cooked, Rafael”, Sam noted, taking his seat next to yours once more as the new guard stayed standing at the head of the table. Other than Natasha, Sam was the lead of the security and guards and technically Rafael’s boss.
“Oh yeah, he used to be a chef”, you explained to Sam, whilst opening the lid of the container, smelling the delicious food and confirming your theory that it was tomato soup.
“Chef? I didn’t know you worked as a chef”, Sam remarked with a frown, eyeing Rafael with confusion as he’d been the one to complete the job interview and didn’t remember seeing chef on his CV.
Rafael casually shrugged his shoulders, looking somewhat tense at the questioning but still forced a smile to his face to please his boss. “I didn’t think it was relevant to the job, to be honest”.
“We’ll have to get you on the bbq when the weather perks up, maybe that’ll stop the arguments between Steve and Bucky”, Sam mused over the thought.
You tried to chuckle but the exhaustion had you slumping against the table as you mumbled, “I feel like shit”.
Sam tensed next to you, “Maybe we should call a doctor. You know, I’m surprised Steve and Bucky aren’t down here right now looking after you, do they even know how bad you’re feeling today?”
“Wait, they’re both here?” Rafael asked Sam but he ignored him, his focus solely on you.
Once again you’re too tired to think of an answer and shrug your shoulders, turning your head to look up at Rafael, “I think the fairies like me too much”.
“Fairies?”, Sam questions thinking that you’d become delirious.
You smile genuinely to Sam, reaching to tap his shoulder, “Inside joke Sam, keep up”.
There was no further discussion of fairies as more hacking coughs ripped through you. It took a couple of moments and Sam rushed to get you a glass of water before you slumped back against the table in exhaustion.
“Why don’t you have the soup and then see how you’re feeling later? Maybe the rest is all you need”, Rafael suggested, filling the silence with his voice.
You couldn’t see it but Sam gave his employee a scathing look, “Rest is all she’s been doing. I’m calling the doc and then I’m going upstairs to tell Steve and Bucky”.
“Aren’t they busy?” Rafael continued to question Sam. “I’ve heard they’ve got that deal coming up from Italy and France, they might appreciate it if you wait a little bit before calling Doctors”.
Sam’s voice was quiet and stern but you were too tired to notice. “That’s not common knowledge, how do you know that?”.
Massaging your temples with the pounding thuds that hadn’t stopped since your coughing fit, you decided that Rafael was right, usually sleep made you feel better. Reaching for the soup one more, you opened the container as you addressed your bodyguard, “he’s right Sam. I just need today for all the work stuff to be over and then I’ll call the doctor. The boys don’t need any distractions, especially today, one more day isn’t going to kill me”.
Sam didn’t look happy as you began to idly sip on the thick, delicious soup. As you thanked Rafael for the meal, Sam finally looked back to him, his frown deep and unmoving as he asked, “Don’t you have work to do?”
Rafael’s spine straightened, “Oh yeah, right. Sorry, sir” and with that, he left to return to work.
“You don’t have to be so bossy you know, he’s just trying to help”, you tried to reason with Sam.
However, your friend ignored you and moved to hold your hand to pull your attention away from the meal and towards him. “I’m giving you until the evening, wait no- if you get any worse before the evening, I am calling the Doc, no arguments, understand?”
“Yes sir”, you say with a little salute.
Finishing your soup, your boyfriends finally came downstairs and you attempted to straighten your posture and plaster a fake smile on your face. Bucky paused in the entryway, sniffing the air and asking, “What’s that smell, I know it's from somewhere but can’t put my finger on it”.
“Is it my soup?” you say, trying to stand up and act like the floor was spinning beneath you.
“No, it’s not that”, he pondered, still looking around and trying to smell whatever he recognised but couldn’t pick it up again. Steve and Bucky both walked past you, kissing the back of your head as you casually explained that you were going to lie down for a little bit. “Wait, let me come with you-”, Bucky started but you held out your hand to stop him.
“You’ve got a busy time at work and I’ve got Sammy boy here anyway so you two continue with your work and we’ll have a nice evening in, Ok?”
“Yes Ma’am”, he mutters before continuing to make his lunch. It wasn’t often that he listened to your instructions but both men were so busy and overwhelmed with work and the consequences that could come from it all that they were all over the place.
The next hour passed by slowly and you didn’t manage to sleep even for a moment because your symptoms were making you feel so awful. You were wheezing so bad that each breath felt like you were suffocating, your eyes began to roll with how much the room was spinning and a violent tremble rocked through your entire body, you didn’t feel right, something was wrong and it was beginning to scare you.
“Sam?” your voice was nothing more than a rasping whisper but he still was able to hear you from where he had been on the phone with the doctor from across the room, having noticed your deterioration in health. He was kneeling by your side in a couple of broad steps, the phone balancing between his cheek and shoulder as he rested a hand on your temple, feeling your spiked temperature. “I don’t feel good”, you admitted, voice full of terror before more coughs ruptured through your chest, leaving you struggling to breathe.
“Steve! Bucky get down here right now!”
“No… no, I just need to sleep”, the fear had disappeared from your voice as you wished for the exhaustion to take you completely, hoping that in sleep you wouldn't feel the pain destroying your insides.
“Hey! No!  Don’t go t sleep, need you to stay awake for me, Doctor Banner is on his way but you can’t go to sleep”, Sam urgently tapped your face, rousing you from the sleep as Bucky had all but jumped down the entire flight of stairs at the shouting.
“What’s going on- What the fuck? Doll?” he replaced where Sam was so that he could continue to explain to the doctor what was happening.
“I’m just not feeling ok, it’s fine Bucky go back to work”, you were somewhat delirious, still not really opening your eyes but leaning into the coldness from Bucky’s hand as he cupped your face. Bucky looked to Sam for answers, his eyes bright and alert with fury and worry.
When Sam shrugged his shoulders, not having any answer as to why you were suddenly so unwell, Bucky quickly turned back to you and assessed your deteriorating health and noticed just how laboured your breathing had become. As he spoke, it was with surprising gentleness but still held authority, “I need you to take a deep breath for me, honey, I want you to try and fill your lungs with air”.
“I’m trying, it’s just seasonal illness, it’ll be ok”.
“What are you talking about?” Bucky asks, not letting go of your face but just moving in closer.
“It’s just seasonal”, your words began to slur as you became incoherent.
Steve finally descended the stairs with just as much purpose as Bucky as he demanded to know what was going on but Bucky couldn’t answer him as he continued to talk to you and keep you awake. “It’s not seasonal, you’re not breathing properly, it’s not-”. Bucky was leaning so close that he was able to smell your breath and he froze, it looked like he now wasn’t even breathing.
“What is it Bucky?” Steve demanded, kneeling next to him and reaching over to take your hand but also feel your pulse, which only made his own increase with worry.
Bucky leans closer and smells your mouth again, so close that you tried to move away as his nose nudged your lips. “What did you eat?” Bucky asked in a tone that forced your eyes to open with concern.
“Huh? Um just my soup”, you say whilst blinking quickly as he still wouldn’t come into focus.
“Soup? Where is it? Where’s the container?” before you could answer, he was on his feet and running into the kitchen as Steve continued to demand answers from his boyfriend, his hand now moving from your wrist to directly over your heart, continuing to count the beats.
Bucky cursed so violently that it actually made you shrink into the cushions but the movement only made you cough more and chest tighten as you struggled to breathe. He returned to the room, his face a deathly white and green shade as he uttered just one word: “Hemlock”.
There was just one brief second where not a body in the room breathed or even moved, one single second to process the poison that Bucky had spoken, the planet that he only knew about because of his time as the Winter Soldier and using it on his target. The poison that he could now smell on your breath, that originated from your container of soup.
It was Sam to speak first, Sam to snap the two men out of their frozen states as he gave the orders from Doctor Banner who had heard the word over the phone. “We need to get her to a hospital right now”.
Steve picked you up, and his entire body began to tremble with adrenaline and fear as no one even stopped to properly dress for the snow outside, only putting their shoes on before rushing to the car. Sam thankfully was able to use the adrenaline to remain headstrong as he climbed into the driver’s side of the car so that Steve and Bucky could both hold you in the back seats and try and keep you awake.
You were lying with your head in Steve’s lap with your body lying across Bucky’s as they clamped their arms around you as makeshift seatbelts. You had heard the word that Bucky had said and even though you knew what it was, you didn’t want to believe it, even as you continued to feel worse. “It’s not poison, it’s just soup”.
However, those words triggered something within your throat and once more you were coughing so hard that you thought you were going to vomit and cringed as metallic warmth filled your mouth and leaked out of the corner of your lips.
You slumped onto Steve and Bucky, head lulling back but Steve was quick to grab your face, tapping it and forcing you to stay awake, “Baby don’t go to sleep! Please stay awake for me! Stay with us, we’ll be at the hospital soon, I promise”.
You were scared, even though you were half-conscious, you were terrified now realising the severity of the situation, knowing that you were coughing up blood which was now soaking the front of Steve’s shirt and hearing how panicked your boyfriends were only made it worse. Through all the scary, dangerous times in your life, they always remained calm and in control but now they were both frantic and frightened. 
As all three men continued to plead with you to stay awake, you forced yourself to open your eyes, only allowing yourself the luxury of blinking occasionally as you kept looking into Steve’s ocean-blue eyes. With his body and face so close to yours, you used him to ground you in the situation, trying to copy his breathing which had slowed since you’d opened your eyes; ignoring the pain from the breaths and resisting the urges to cough even though blood continued to fill your mouth.
“Am I going to die?” you whisper, not being able to ignore the questions now in the back of your mind anymore.
Steve’s breath hitched for a second before he tried to confidently whisper, “No, you’re not going to die”.
You didn’t believe him, especially as the trip to the hospital was delayed by the snow, every second feeling like it could be your worse, you didn’t want it to end like this.
“I love you.”
“You’re going to be ok, just keep looking at Steve, keep breathing”, Bucky pleaded, squeezing your freezing cold hand.
“Please, just say it back”, your voice was hardly audible anymore as your mouth was so full of blood.
“Stop talking and save your energy for when you’re feeling better”, Bucky tried to keep his composure but you knew he was close to snapping.
Your breaths were wet and laboured, wheezing so violently it rattled and echoed around the car but you still managed to plead, “Say it back-”.
“I love you, I love you so fucking much, please don’t leave me, baby”. Steve snapped first, his eyes were wide, fearful and yet beautiful with how stark the blue was as his eyes filled with tears, leaking down his cheek and into his beard.
You were thankful, for both of them, for everything and you wish you could have told them, wishing that you could have heard Bucky’s own declaration of love and adoration for you but the pounding of your heartbeat became so loud in your head that you couldn’t hear anything anymore.
But you continued to hold on, never once looking away from those pretty eyes of Steve’s as Sam finally screeched to a halt outside of the hospital. Once more, Steve carried you and there was a flurry of people in different coloured scrubs suddenly surrounding you as you were placed onto a cold bed.
One moment you were staring into Steve’s eyes and the next you were looking up at a stranger and the comfort you’d once felt, the thing that was grounding you to life was now gone and you couldn’t find him again, no matter how much you moved on the bed, even as the strangers poked and prodded at your body until you couldn’t deal with it anymore and finally closed your eyes.
Do you ever have those naps where you wake up and forget where you are, or what time or day it is? That was currently how you felt except the added sensation of floating encompassed your body as well. The only sort of normality felt throughout your body was a cool feminine hand stroking across your temple in a soothing, repetitive manner.
Your toes wiggled firstly and then your eyes behind your eyelids and even though you knew who was stroking your forehead, you still croakily asked, “Steve? Bucky?”
“It’s just me Sugar” Natasha sounded calm and peaceful as her fingers didn’t stop with their soothing motions. “The boys are going to be so pissed that you’re awake before they’ve got back”.
You huff and dared to open your eyes, grunting at the brightness of the room but thankfully your eyes adjusted and only one, still, Natasha smiled down at you. Seeing that you weren’t going to vomit or freak out, Natasha sat back in her chair, moving to hold onto your hand to give you some comfort. “You gave us a real scare”.
You thought back to everything that happened, some of it was a blur but most of it still played through your mind like a horror movie that you couldn’t look away from or escape. “Was I really poisoned?”
There was one thing that you appreciated about Natasha and that was her blunt honesty, not one to ever sugarcoat her words, “You were”.
“But… But how? I mean… the soup, Rafael, he wouldn’t-”. You stopped yourself talking, trying to envision all the interactions you’d had with him but only one thing repeated through your thoughts: Don’t trust anyone. That was one of the first rules Steve had taught you. “I don’t understand why? He seemed so nice to me, is his name even Rafael? Was everything a lie?”
“That’s what they’re just finding out. Apparently, the friend of a friend rouse was made up including his credentials, usually, our background checks are very thorough but he had some help to slip through the cracks”.
“Do you know what help he had? Who it was, I mean?”
Natasha for once seemed to think before she spoke which unnerved you, knowing that whoever’s name she spoke next wouldn’t be good news.
The monitor displaying your heartbeat began to beep as it increased with the dread that was settling through your body.
“All signs are currently pointing to Pierce”.
Your eyes closed as you tried to remember how to breathe. You knew about Alexander Pierce. Everyone did. He was ruthless and had plenty of finances and power to pay for his success but not only this, he had been one of the top employees of Hydra and usually in charge of the Winter Soldier. So yes, you all knew a lot about Alexander Pierce and his name was one to send fear through any of those involved in the Rogers mafia, even Steve.
As you opened your eyes again to look at Natasha, you could tell she wanted to tell you more but was holding the information to not panic you further but you needed to know. “Please just tell me whatever it is you’re not telling me”.
“We think he paid this guy to come and spy on Steve and Bbucky and it seems he put his sights on you. Specifically.. Because you’re their biggest weakness and it seemed like everyone knows that”.
Your face warmed with fear and anger, as fear prickled the corner of your eyes, “So what, now I’m not even safe in my own home?”
“That’s not-” Tasha began to lean forward in her seat but another voice cut her off.
“No, you weren’t safe in your own home”. Steve stood at your hospital room door, dressed casually in a black shirt and jeans, looking nothing out of the ordinary but his face was wrath of calm and anger. Your eyes snapped from him to Bucky who had looked just as serious but as your eyes connected with his, the hard lines of his face smoothed out into a weak smile.
The two of them step into the room as Natasha stands, informing everyone that she’d give us some space and guard the door.
You’re trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, to keep them from slipping and cascading down your cheeks, not wanting your boyfriends to feel any more guilt but as you took a deep breath in, a sob erupts through you and you can’t keep the emotions back anymore.
You attempted to hide your face with your hands, even with the added difficulty of having tubes and wires attached to the backs of your hands and the tips of your fingers. The realities of everything that had happened began to destroy any hope that you had. You’d nearly died, in your own home where you were supposed to be most safe.
Steve and Bucky sat on either side of your hospital bed, moving silently as they always did and with careful ease, gently took a hand each and pried them away from your face, stroking away any tears that continued to escape.
“I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know… It’s a lot”, you tried to give reason for your crying, even though it was unnecessary. Bucky tilted your face towards him, his voice was so soft and caring that it nearly made you sob with how careful he was being with you, “Don’t apologise for crying, I tell you this all the time, Doll”.
You offered him a wet giggle, taking a few deep breaths before rambling on with your anxiety, “I bet I look like a right mess right now, I don’t even know how long I’ve been asleep for”.
They let you calm yourself down before Steve praises with his low captivating voice, “You always look beautiful, no matter how much snot is on your face”. He smiles as he manages to make you laugh before he turned serious, “It’s been 5 days, baby”.
Your face drops, “5… I’ve been asleep for 5 days?!”
“You passed out when we arrived and when they could finally stop the bleeding you-”
“Bleeding?” you questioned, remembering you were bleeding from the mouth but it didn’t seem like that much.
“The poison you’d ingested that day was a higher dose and caused internal bleeding. After they were able to stabilise you, they needed to detox you from the poison and make sure your body was healing so it was safe to keep you asleep”.
You tried to process everything that Steve had told you, it felt confusing for you to have been through so much and yet feel such little pain in your body.
As if reading your mind, Bucky once again captivated your attention as he asked, “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”
“No I’m not in any pain but I feel wrong like my body is floating in the water or something”.
“That might be due to the medications that they’ve got you on, they’re pretty strong Sweetheart”, his pet name helped to calm your disorientated mind, clinging on to the familiarity and focusing on the way both of their hands were holding yours and stroking tiny circles in your skin,
“Did you get the answers you wanted, from Rafael, or whatever his name is”.
Steve and Bucky shared a glance between each other but Steve decided to be the one to answer. “We got the answers, it was as Nat was explaining. Pierce wanted someone in the gang, spying and getting as close to us as possible and I guess they somehow managed to weasel their way in and tried to succeed with their plan to hit our weak spot”.
You took a deep breath to try and reduce the rising anxiety in the pit of your stomach before asking tentatively, “So what happens now? With Pierce I mean.”
“That’s a problem for another time, just need you to get better first”, Bucky interjected, lifting your hand to kiss the few fingers that were attached with clips or wires.
You tried to smile at him, wanting him to know how much you appreciate him but the feeling never met your eyes and this seemed to twist something in Steve and Bucky. Both of their demeanours changed, no longer were you looking at just your boyfriends but also the mafia boss and his second in command, mixing business with family.
Bucky began talking first, tone strong and husky, “This isn’t something we are taking likely. Sam’s already spent the last day and a half revisiting everyone’s past, making sure there are no other moles that have slipped through the cracks. No new faces are allowed anywhere near our home or you.”
As he spoke, you managed sure to nod your head and try to squeeze his hand in understanding. Steve shifted in his chair, capturing your attention as he continued the discussion. “You are safe and you should have been safe but we let you down, you were vulnerable when we weren’t there to protect you like we promised we would. We let you down, we broke our promise, we could understand if you didn’t want-”.
“Whatever you’re about to say you better forget about it right now”, you say sternly, heartbeat beginning to race on the monitor again as Steve’s mouth shut quickly with a snap. “The idea of being your weakness has always frightened me but, I could also be your greatest strength. I mean - Look at what you’ve been going just to protect the house, to protect me. I know you feel like you’ve let me down but I don’t feel let down in any way. Yes, of course, what’s happened is scary, especially in our home but I doubt it’ll ever happen again. They can try and tear us apart, they can try, but they won’t break us, they can’t break us. We have to remain on top ok? I always feel safe and trusted when I’,m with you both so please, don’t ever feel like I'm not because I am. I’ll always love you both, I’m not going anywhere”.
You sucked in air greedily after your short speech, the building emotions spilling freely everything you truly believed to the men beside you, not wishing for them to ever feel doubt for the relationship or how you felt.
Looking between them both, your heart sank as you noticed Bucky quickly wipe the corner of his eye. “I thought you said no more tears”, you spoke softly whilst trying to wipe away a stray tear.
“That’s before you decided to swoon me with your speech”, he quipped back, the light returning to his eyes once more as you laughed.
“I love you Bucky”.
“I love you, Doll”, standing from his chair, his metal hand stroked over the side of your face as he captured your lips with his, lingering for a few beautiful seconds before sitting back down.
Steve had lifted your hand during your speech and was kissing your palm and you reached out to stroke his beard, “I love you, Steve”.
He too stood, just as Bucky had but he kissed your forehead first, breathing you in for a moment before doing the same against your lips. “I love you too, so much baby”.
As Steve sat back down, your eyes began to feel heavy, all of the strong emotions exhausted you completely. “Will you both be here when I wake up? Not that I’m complaining about Natasha but she doesn’t spoon me like you both do”.
They both chuckle under their breath before Steve promises, “We aren’t going anywhere, sleep, Sweetheart”.
1K notes · View notes
starhvney · 26 days ago
Note
Hi!! Saw your requests were open for the December event and got super excited!
Can I order a coffee, with cinnamon and an apple turnover for Laurance and Gene MYS? :D My friend and I absolutely adore your fics, keep it up!!
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𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟔: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!!
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: established relationship, hurt/comfort, reader is sick
𝐚/𝐧: ugh i love laurance and gene sm. also, thank you!!! i hope you and your friend like this one, too!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄
“My love, my light, my everything, if you try and get up one more time when I’m not looking I will have to chain you to the bed.” Laurance tilts his head up, looking down at you with a half-joking, half-serious warning in his eyes.
You freeze on the edge of the bed from where you were attempting to get up and walk around. Ever since your doting lover found out you were sick you’d barely left this bed if only to use the bathroom. While you enjoyed his insistence on pampering you (which he did regardless if you were sick or not), you’d been feeling pretty useless and bored after doing nothing in your bed the past few days.
As you’re about to argue for your freedom, the savory scent of soup hits you, and you glance down at the steaming bowl held in his hands.
“…What’s that?”
He grins, coming to the bedside and—with one hand—grasps onto your ankles to move them back onto the bed before plopping himself right next to you. “Delicious soup, homemade by yours truly, of course.”
“I told you you can just give me canned soup. You don’t need to keep cooking something for me every time I need to eat…” you murmur, sitting straighter and trying to reach for the bowl.
He scoffs, seeming almost—no, definitely offended at the notion as he pulls the bowl away. “Do you really think I’d do anything less for my girl? Also, stop trying to grab it, you know I’m going to be the one feeding you.”
“I’m not incapable of feeding myself.”
His eyes soften, setting the spoon back in the bowl for a moment to brush your cheek with his fingers. “I know you can, my love. But I want to do it for you anyway. Just like I’ve brushed your hair and done your laundry. I like taking care of you.”
Your chest warms at his matter-of-fact tone, his insistence on how simple doing all of these things for you was for him making you practically melt on the spot. He sighs softly, eyes sparkling with admiration before he picks up the soup spoon, gently blowing on it and testing the heat on his own lips before lifting it to yours.
You gladly take it, the liquid soothing on your dry, sore throat. The taste—while a bit dimmed from your stuffed nose—was amazing. It was herbal with sweet undertones, the mix a perfect remedy for your symptoms.
“D’you like it?” he genuinely asks, eyes darting across your face for a reaction. “I threw some different stuff together. It’s a new recipe I just made up.”
Biting your lip, you glance to the side, a playful cadence in your tone. “Hmm… I don’t know…”
He narrows his eyes, tilting his head down and looking up at you through his lashes.
“…Just kidding. It’s delicious.”
“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” He smirks, lifting up another spoonful and cooling it before speaking again. “How about after this, since you’re so bored, we can play a board game or something?”
You take in the spoonful, humming gratefully before responding. “That would be perfect. Thank you, love.”
“Anything for you.”
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𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄
“Hm. You know, I don’t think you’re supposed to be doing that, doll.” Gene leans on the doorway, eyes playfully narrowing at your form as you hunch over the sink—cleaning away at the dishes. He sets down the grocery bag on the counter when you sheepishly refuse to respond, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and press a kiss against the side of your head. “How’re you gonna get better if you keep refusing to rest?”
“I’m already feeling better than yesterday…” you murmur, leaning back into his chest as you let the soothing warm water continue to run over your hands.
“But you’re not better. Just cause you feel better today doesn’t mean you’re fully healed, silly girl.” He scoffs, pinching your sides. “Why don’t you just let me take care of you?”
“Because I’m fine…” you stubbornly whine, trying to wriggle away from his mischievous hands to no avail.
“No, you’re not…” he parries back, mimicking your tone with an amused lift to it.
You open your mouth to refute his statement once again, but not before getting spun around in a quick motion. Taking no care for the water still on your hands, he leans down to scoop you up in his arms, setting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before straightening again.
“Wh- Gene!” you yelp, receiving a short laugh in return as he spins around twice with you in tow, your flipped vision blurring and spinning with the tiles.
He starts to walk out of the kitchen with a wide stride, disorienting your already dizzy head as you try to recover from his sudden attack. Low groans leave your mouth as the man lugs you off into the house, your headache you’d been fighting off all day coming back full force in an uncomfortable throb against your temples.
Only a moment later you’re set upright again as he gently places you onto the couch. He rests his hands on his knees and bends forward, eyes darting over your form as you pathetically melt into the couch with another disoriented huff.
“Yeah… You still gonna argue with me that you’re better now?” He raises his eyebrows. “You look like you’re gonna throw up.”
“You threw me over your shoulder!”
“I’ve done it plenty of times, sweetheart, and you never complained before. So you’re either admitting you’re still sick or lying.”
Your mouth gapes open, no further defenses coming from your mouth as your head continues to throb. In the small moment of your hesitation he huffs in satisfaction, his large hands cupping your face gently as he leans in for a deep kiss, lips pressing into yours intently.
“Mph! You’re gonna get sick!” You shove him back by the shoulders with wide eyes. He only separates enough to look you in the eyes, his face turning smug.
“But I thought you weren’t sick, baby.” he whispers, lips quirked up.
You flop over on your side in defeat, groaning when your head throbs again in protest at your quick movement. Gene follows, leaning over you and brushing your face with a genuine pitiful look on his face. Leaning down, he kisses your cheek before pulling back, looking over the state you were in with a sigh.
“Your head hurts?”
You nod.
“M’sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel worse.” he says gently. “I’ll get you some more medicine and then we can cuddle on the couch. Okay?”
“Okay…”
“Good. Now stay here, doll.”
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