#like REALLY simple - should take me maybe a week or so to make it completely by hand | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wheeboo · 7 months ago

Text

laundry day | hansol vernon chwe

SYNOPSIS. in which it's laundry day and you're in a bit of an embarrassing predicament. PAIRING. hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader (however, sorta implied that reader is more leaning toward fem) GENRE. fluff, humour?, best friends/roommates to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, vernon is checking reader out lowkey, reader embarrassingly wears hello kitty underwear i don't make the rules, ik vernon is mainly chill but in this they bicker <3, this was very stupid n silly lmfao WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested from @weird-bookworm: lemme be annoying already— noni + #16 and #59 from list 1!! - #16: "You hugged me like your personal pillow." - #59: "Laundry day doesn’t mean walking around in your underwear, but for you, I’ll make an exception."

notes: i'm never good with writing humour but i thought of this stupid scenario and idk how i feel BYEE (cuz ur girl lowkey struggled on figuring out how to put #59 in the story lmao) tysm for submitting this in sky <3 and ty @bananabubble for reading it over for me!

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You are so stupid.

So fucking stupid.

How could you let yourself get carried away in loading all your laundry that you forgot to save a pair of pants to wear in the meantime?

You replay everything in your head: your overflowing, neglected laundry basket, the utter satisfaction you felt after loading it... right up until the moment you realised every single pair of pants you own was now basically swimming around in a goddamn whirlpool, and now you're left sporting nothing but your underwear and a shirt that didn't offer much coverage than expected.

You let out an annoyed groan, burying your face into your hands and mentally slapping yourself in the face. The chill of your room sends a trail of goosebumps running up the exposed skin of your legs. There really was nothing you could do but wait for your laundry to finish.

Then your head shoots back up, and maybe your bedroom lights up a bit brighter at your metaphorical lightbulb moment, because you think of Vernon. He's the only other option you have.

Tip-toeing up to your closed door, a bit of hesitancy gnaws at you for being so dumb, before you yell out, "Vernon!"

He's probably in the living room right now𑁋you can overhear the faint music of the record player the two of you snagged at this vintage thrift store the other week. A very good and lucky find, nonetheless.

Taking another (and maybe regrettable) deep breath, you call out again, a little louder this time. "Vernon! Can you hear me?"

The music seems to dip down slightly, and after a moment, the record stops spinning, replaced by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. You brace yourself for the door to swing open to reveal the embarrassing state you're in right now, but it doesn't.

Instead, you hear Vernon's voice respond to you through the door, "Yeah?"

"Uh..." You bite your lip because you can't believe you're about to ask this. "Do you have, um... a pair of pants or shorts I can borrow? I'll give it back to you tomorrow."

For a moment you think he didn't hear you because it's completely silent on the other side of the door, and it does absolutely nothing at calming down your racing heart. You see, you probably should be fine with walking around in your underwear with Vernon because he's your best friend and roommate and he definitely would not judge at all, but it's simply not that simple𑁋

"Did you, like, spill Monster on yourself again?" Vernon asks casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world that you would do (it's happened one too many times).

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean𑁋look, just fetch me a pair and I'll bring it back to you later?"

"Uh, yeah, about that..." He pauses. "I'm wearing my only pair right now since you loaded yours first."

You really should've considered that being best friends with Vernon meant collectively sharing the brain cell of procrastinating when it comes to doing your laundry. Great, just absolutely fantastic. This was very much how you wanted your day to go. Perhaps this is why you're best friends, after all.

"Well, shit," You murmur, more to yourself but Vernon hears it anyway.

"Look, I'm sure it's not that bad, right?" Does he seriously still think you spilled Monster on yourself? "You could probably just𑁋"

You can hardly act by the time the doorknob twists and Vernon peeks his head around the door. But the second he catches sight of you, his eyes flicker over you, before he quickly averts his gaze to the Radiohead poster on your wall. Was it the lighting in your room that's making his face look pink?

You stand there awkwardly, suddenly feeling so exposed in front of him as if some sort of gigantic spotlight was shining down on you. It's not like you haven't been half-naked around each other before, but this feels different... somehow. You don't know why, or maybe you don't want to know.

A cough erupts from Vernon, breaking the sudden silence.

"Oh, wow, um..." He toys with the black hoodie around his head. "I didn't look. I swear."

His eyes dart everywhere except back to you, lingering on the Radiohead poster, the slightly askew picture frame on your desk, just anywhere but you. You don’t know whether to feel relieved or embarrassed.

"Ugh, I'm so stupid." You run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And I have this meeting for work in an hour and I know the laundry won't be done by then. I'm actually screwed."

Vernon thinks for a minute. "You can't like... virtually attend the meeting?

"No."

"Or it can't be postponed?"

"Nope."

"What if I file you as a missing person to the police?"

"You're seriously no help, dude," You say, giving him a light shove to the shoulder, but it's hard to suppress the curve to your lips and the small chuckle that leaves your mouth when you see him fall back dramatically.

Vernon snorts lightly. "Well, it's probably better than showing up to work in your Hello Kitty underwear𑁋"

"You said you didn't look, you idiot!" You exclaim furiously, and Vernon literally does not see the way a pillow practically spawns in your grasp and flinging toward him before he can even react. The pillow hits him square in the chest, causing him to stumble backward with a surprised yelp. "Oh my god, just report me missing at this point."

Vernon just laughs as he catches his breath to stand back up, grabbing the pillow up the floor and lifting it up like a shield as if to defend himself from you. Your face is burning brighter than the lava lamp glowing on your bedside table.

"This is so embarrassing," You mutter sheepishly, wanting to unleash another defeated groan again. "I can't believe I'm this stupid to forget to..."

"You're cute."

"...and then I'm probably going to get fired𑁋what?"

Vernon tosses the pillow back onto your bed and clears his throat.

"I said you're really dumb."

That is not what he said.

For a second, the disastrous situation seems to lighten up just a little bit, and your heart is doing some intense, unrhythmic tap dance against your ribs. You heard exactly what he said𑁋that he called you cute in this ungodly predicament𑁋and now he's trying to brush it off?

Vernon cracks a teasing, boyish smile. "And stupid, yeah. You're not wrong about that."

You open your mouth to retort, but the words get caught in your throat, almost like a choked sound coming out instead. So you point an interrogative finger and step closer to him (and yes, still in your underwear), eyebrows furrowing together.

"You called me cute," You state, all firm and serious now.

Vernon's playful look falters slightly, expression shifting to something a bit more guarded now. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, that nervous habit you've always found sort of endearing throughout time. Perhaps there's a bit more meaning to it now.

The few moments of silence that follow is absolutely suffocating. You can't even tell if time is passing by quicker or slower as the two of you stand there, shifting this uncomfortable weight between both of your feet.

"Yeah," Vernon says simply, quietly. "I did."

You nearly want to laugh for some reason, but you can feel the nerves tickle up your spine. "I'm standing here in fucking Hello Kitty underwear and you think I'm cute?"

You can visibly see the way the lump in his throat tightens as he swallows, his eyes flickering uncertainly between you and the floor.

"Look you just... You caught me off-guard. Like... laundry day doesn't mean walking around in your underwear and all that," Vernon explains, in a tone like he's trying to reason with you. "but for you, I'll make an exception because𑁋"

"𑁋because I'm cute?"

"Because you're so stupidly cute from freaking out when I could just go to the store right now and buy you a pair of pants to wear." Then he sucks in a breath. "And yeah, the Hello Kitty underwear is cute, I guess."

You feign a shocked, traitorous look to your face. "You guess?! It's Hello Kitty, man."

"Dude, do you want me to snatch you some pants to wear or not? Because I'm deadass about the missing persons report," Vernon asks, half-annoyed yet somewhat half-amused. The twitch to his lips doesn't go unnoticed. And the voice of him calling you cute just minutes earlier also doesn't go unheard of too.

You wear a cringy, exaggerated pout to your lips. "Please."

Vernon's face contorts in slight disgust at that. "Please don't do that eve𑁋I'm leaving." And before you can say anything, he's turning around and leaving your room.

You hear the clinking of keys, assuming that Vernon is getting ready to leave to presumably retrieve you a pair of pants to wear for the day. You step up to your doorway to peek into the living room.

"Hey, I owe you!" You holler out to him. "Let me know how much it costs and I'll pay you back."

"No need," Vernon calls back over his shoulder.

"Come on, I'll feel bad," You insist, leaning against the doorframe. "I'll do anything, I swear."

Now that seems to intrigue him, and you watch the way Vernon slowly turns back to you, and maybe you're starting to regret ever saying that to him.

"Okay," he says lightly. "We're watching a movie tonight."

"A movie? What are we..." Then your eyes widen in realisation. "We are not watching Shrek again. I'll end up falling asleep on you because we've rewatched too much."

Vernon just shrugs. "Yeah, like last time. You hugged me like your personal pillow, remember?"

"I..." You stop yourself from responding immediately, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks at the memory. "Fine, whatever. If I fall asleep again, you can just wake me up this time."

A low, thoughtful hum runs out of Vernon's mouth. "I mean, I really don't mind if you fall asleep, you know. If you're tired and stuff."

You blink up at him dazedly. "Really?"

"Yeah," he answers, and the corners of his lips lift up ever so slightly. "You're cute when you fall asleep on me, anyway."

another note: guys idk what i just wrote lol its like 90% dialogue n rushed HAHSADSA

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springtyme · 9 days ago

Note

Maybe something with Steve x f!reader where she is a bit inexperienced and insecure when it comes to dating ad steve askes her out but she is oblivous and thinks it's just as freinds but steve really likes her

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ♡

Steve Harrington x reader || Main masterlist || Steve playlist

summary: If anyone had told your high school self that in a few years you would become friends with Steve Harrington, you would never have believed them, but here you are.

word count: 4.1k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗) 𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

The crisp autumn air wraps around you like a cozy blanket as you step out of your house, one hand clutching your purse while the other fiddles nervously with the hem of your sweater. Tonight is the annual Hawkins fall festival, and you are beyond excited, you’ve always loved this time of year and Halloween is just around the corner. You’re especially excited because Steve asked you if the two of you should go together, which, if you had been told this a few years back, you would never have believed.

Back then, Steve Harrington was the quintessential popular kid: the cocky, charming, handsome, jock, always surrounded by a group of friends, the king of cool himself. He was all the things that you were not. You were the quiet girl, the one who blended into the background, often lost in books or daydreams. You had admired him from a distance, never once as much as imagined that he’d ever as much as acknowledge your existence.

But people change. Steve has transformed over the years, shedding his old persona for something deeper, something more substantial. You have become friends after you started working full time at family video with him this summer. It was awkward at first; the memories of your high school days still lingered in the back of your mind. But as the weeks passed, you found a rhythm together. Steve’s charm was still there, but now it was complemented by kindness and genuine interest in those around him. He was no longer just the popular kid; he was just Steve—and you happen to really like this Steve.

Sometimes you think that he might feel the same way about you. There are those moments when his gaze linger a little too long, or when he will lean in a little closer than needed to laugh at something silly you said. He seems to always remember the little things—your favorite candy, the books you love, how you like your coffee—there’s a comfortable warmth that has built between you, something that simultaneously feels completely normal and natural yet so confusing.

You don’t know what to make of it all, all you know is the butterflies in your stomach are practically doing the cha-cha everytime he looks at you, which makes you feel silly, you’re not his type, but the feeling is undeniable.

You take a deep breath, the cool air filling your lungs, and step outside fully. Steve is standing by his car, a warm smile lighting up his face as he catches sight of you. His hair is slightly tousled by the wind, and he’s wearing that dark green sweatshirt you mentioned under his jacket that you had mentioned you liked a few weeks ago.

“Hey,” he calls out, a smile spreading on his face as he sees you, his eyes sparkling in the golden light of the last sun of the day that illuminates the street.

“Hey!” you call back, trying to match his energy as you walk towards him. You notice the way his gaze flickers from your face to your outfit—a simple but cute sweater and jeans—but also the way you feel inexplicably warm inside, even as a light breeze rustles the leaves around you.

“You look great,” he compliments, his smile growing wider as he opens the car door for you. You slip inside, fighting back the blush creeping up your cheeks. “I’m really glad that you said yes to come with me, I really wasn’t sure if you would say yes.”

You nod, excitement bubbling in your chest. “Of course. This is going to be fun.”

Steve smiles at your words, a soft one that makes your heart flutter even more. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he admits, starting the engine with a low roar.

The drive to the festival passes quickly, filled with casual chatter and laughter, though you can’t help but feel like there is a slight tension in the air between you. The festival lights twinkle in the distance as you park, and your heart races at the sight of all the attractions—the hay bales, the pumpkins, and the Ferris wheel glowing in the twilight.

As you step out of the car, Steve reaches to grab your hand, a brief but electric moment that makes your pulse quicken. It surprises you, and you, more on instinct than thought, do a little jolt of surprise as you feel his warmth enveloping your fingers. Your action seems to startle him as well. He quickly lets go, and you both look at each other, your cheeks heating as if you’ve both just felt the thrill of a secret.

“Uh, how about we start with the ferris wheel?” he suggests, trying to mask his own awkwardness as you move towards the ticket booth, the festive air filled with laughter and the scent of caramel apples.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” you reply, your voice a little shaky as you try to regain your composure. You keep your eyes on the colorful lights strung above, using them as a distraction from the fluttering in your stomach. Friends hold hands, especially in crowded areas, it’s completely normal, but you have just made it weird.

You purchase your tickets, and while waiting in line, you sneak glances at him, noticing how the festival lights cast a warm glow on his features.

As you stand in line to the ride, the excited energy of the festival surrounds you, yet the moment feels isolated within its own bubble. The cheerful screams from the rides seem distant as you steal another sideways glance at Steve. His brow is furrowed slightly in concentration as he watches the ferris wheel turn, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he’s trying to keep himself grounded amidst the bubbling awkwardness that seems to linger between you.

“Do you… um, like ferris wheels?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty, breaking the comfortable silence while trying to affirm the choice of ride.

You chuckle lightly, appreciative of the effort he’s making to fill the space with conversation. “I think they’re great. It’s nice to see everything from up high, even though I’m a little afraid of heights.” The confession spills from your lips before you can second-guess it.

“Uh oh,” he grins, his tension visibly dissipating as a laugh escapes him. “Guess I’m gonna have to protect you from the edge then.”

“Right,” you reply, your heart racing a little faster. There’s something so comforting in his charm, so disarming in the way he manages to make you laugh while also feeling slightly vulnerable.

There’s only a few more people ahead, you can hear the laughter and excited shrieks of those already atop the ferris wheel, and your heart flutters nervously. The excitement of the ride combines with the nervous energy between you and Steve, creating a concoction of emotions that feels exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Finally, your turn arrives, and you step into the little cabin of the ferris wheel, Steve following behind you. The moment the door closes, you feel an immediate sense of closeness. You both sit on the bench as the ride begins its slow ascent.

A gentle breeze wafts through the cabin as you start climbing higher. The view below spreads out like a beautiful tapestry—people laughing, lights twinkling in the cool night air, and the pumpkin patch glowing in the distance. For a moment, despite that familiar feeling of fear that jolts through your stomach and chest from the height, you’re moved by the beauty of it all.

But just as quickly, the magic of the moment shifts, and you become acutely aware of Steve next to you. The cabin sways slightly, and instinctively, you lean in closer to him, hoping to steady yourself. Your shoulder brushes against his, and the side of your thighs presses against each other, and suddenly, there’s an electric charge in the air again.

Steve seems to notice, too; his breath hitches slightly, and he glances at you, his brown eyes searching yours for a brief moment before darting away, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. The world outside the ferris wheel becomes a distant memory, the vibrant festival lights melting into a blurred backdrop as the two of you share this intimate space.

“How’re you holding up?” he asks, attempting to calm you with that signature Steve Harrington smile. It’s warm and inviting, and you can’t help but return it, hoping it conveys the mix of excitement and anxiety brewing within you.

“Honestly?” you start, biting your lip slightly as you consider whether to admit the truth. “I’m a little scared, but being up here with you helps.” You hope your honesty doesn’t make things awkward again.

“I’m always available whenever you need to ride a ferris wheel,” he says, trying to lighten the mood, but both of you can sense the shift. His arm brushes against yours, and you can feel his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of your sweater.

“What would I do without a friend like you,” you reply. You really are grateful to have him in your life, you’ve never been the girl with the most friends and most of the ones you have moved away from Hawkins after high school, but in this moment you can’t help but wish that you and Steve could be more than that. Your gaze drifts down again, watching the world spin beneath you, so you don’t see how his face falls slightly from your words.

The air between you thickens with unspoken words, the gentle rocking of the ferris wheel almost amplifying the silence. You focus on the lights below, momentarily getting lost in the vibrant colors and sounds of laughter, but your mind drifts back to Steve. Thoughts of his warmth against your skin make your heart race even faster.

“Hey,” he begins, his voice slightly hesitant, forcing your attention back to him. “I was thinking about…um, going to the hayride after this. It’ll be fun, right?” He’s trying to recapture the lightness of the moment, but there’s a different edge to his tone, almost insecurity.

“Sure,” you reply, maybe a bit too fast, wanting to seem interested in his idea and hopefully get the vibe between you back on track.

He smiles at your enthusiasm, but it’s a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he turns his gaze back to the ground below, watching the festival swirling around. The brief flicker of uncertainty in his expression doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter even more wildly.

Once the ride ends and you both exit the cabin, the festival feels even more alive, filled with laughter, screams, and the smell of fried food wafting through the air.

The lights twinkle like the stars above, casting a gentle glow over everything, but the feeling of electric tension still lingers. Forcing a smile, you look over at Steve, hoping to read his expression. He’s glancing slightly shyly at you, scrunching his hands in his pockets again—a telltale sign of nerves.

“Let’s head to the pretzel stand first,” you suggest, wanting to ease the awkwardness. The buttery, salty scent of the pretzels wafts through the air, beckoning you. Plus, you could use a little snack to settle the butterflies.

“Yeah… great idea,” he says, looking towards you, but you break the eye contact too quickly, feeling an odd mix of courage and shyness wash over you. As you walk together, the distance between you feels both far and impossibly close.

When you approach the stand, the line is relatively short, which is a relief. You’re both quiet as you wait in line. You order two warm, buttery pretzels, and as the vendor hands them over, Steve pays, insisting it’s his treat. You protest, arguing that you could cover your half, but he brushes you off with a simple, “no, no, I got it. I was the one who asked you out, remember?”

You know that he didn’t mean it like that, but a small warmth spreads in your chest at the thought of this being more than just a friendly outing. You quickly push the thought aside as he hands you your pretzel, mumbling a, “thanks,” without looking him in the eyes. You know that you’re being dumb, you just wish that you could keep your feelings in check, but he looks too good in the sparkling lights, his eyes twinkling in a way that almost hurts.

There is something about being here with him that feels so bittersweet. It’s easier to just not look at him. You take a bite of your pretzel, the salty goodness grounding you in the moment, and glance around at the festival, trying to focus on the lively atmosphere rather than the tension curling in your stomach.

You keep eating in silence and you keep focusing on the surroundings of the fair around you, looking anywhere but at Steve besides you. You glance at the spin-the-wheel booth nearby, where a group of kids cheer excitedly as one of them wins a stuffed animal. You can’t help but envy their carefree joy and excitement. You don’t know why you have to find everything so difficult as you stand here with Steve, who was once so far out of reach.

It’s not like you want to ignore him, but suddenly you just don’t know what to say or how to act around him. Growing up, you’ve never been the one people chose, and the idea of going to a fair with a boy who you like and who is as sweet to you as Steve is overwhelming, one of those things you have romanticized, and now that you’re actually here, in a way that is so close to that teenager fantasy you had, but still not in the way you had dreamed of—with someone who just sees you as a friend and colleague.

“Are you alright?” Steve’s voice breaks through your thoughts, the hint of concern in his tone making you look up. He’s studying you closely, his brow slightly furrowed and that adorable furrow in his forehead deepening as he watches you. “You’ve been a bit quiet since the ferris wheel. Was this like… a bad idea?”

“I’m fine!” you assure him a bit too quickly, and you wince at how defensive it ends up sounding.

“Okay…” he replies, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. It stings more than it should because you know he cares, and that makes it even harder to explain what’s going on inside your head.

You continue to walk in silence for a moment, the vibrant sounds of the festival contrasting with the uncertainty hanging in the air between you. Your heart feels heavy, torn between the joy of being with him and the fear of ruining the one precious relationship you currently have. With each step, a battle rages in your mind, and the taste of the pretzel suddenly feels stale.

“Ready for the hayride?” Steve finally asks after you’ve finished your pretzels, breaking the awkward stretch of silence that had settled between you.

“Yeah, sure,” you respond, trying to sound chill and casual, but you’re afraid it comes out sounding more like indifference.

When you reach the hayride area, you find a rustic wooden wagon decked out with hay bales and pulled by a tractor, its engine humming softly. The laughter of children playing nearby fills your ears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of the world has been lifted. You both hop onto the wagon, taking a seat on a hay bale amid a group of families and friends, and once again, you feel the familiar warmth of Steve beside you.

The tractor lurches forward, and you cling to the edge of your bale as the wagon bounces along the dirt path, the chill of the autumn air mingling with the warmth radiating from Steve. He adjusts his position slightly, leaning closer as the wagon sways, and the subtle change sends your heart racing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice as the ride jostles you both slightly.

“Yeah, I’m fine—just enjoying the view,” you reply, your gaze fixed on the canopy of stars beginning to twinkle above, but your heart is still tuned to him.

He chuckles softly, but it is a sound that feels somewhat insecure. “I mean, it’s a nice view, but… I would kind of hope you would look at me every now and then.”

Caught off guard, you turn your head to meet his gaze. There’s something in his expression—vulnerability mixed with that boyish charm—that feels disarmingly sincere.

“I’m sorry if I have read things wrong, or if you felt like you had to say yes to this because I asked you,” he continues, the usual lightness in his voice replaced with an honest sincerity that makes your heart race. “We can just forget that this was ever supposed to be a date and just hang out as friends if that's what you’d prefer.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, the world around you fades into a blur. The sound of the tractor and the laughter of kids playing in the distance become muffled as all your focus shifts to him. ‘This was supposed to be a date…’ Did he really just say that?

Your heart races in your chest, both from the weight of his words and the vulnerability etched in his expression. You’ve always thought you could keep your feelings hidden, but now, watching him wrestle with his own insecurities, you can’t bear the thought of losing what you’ve built together over these past months.

Your breath hitches, disbelief coursing through you. “This is a date?” It feels surreal, and your mind races to catch up with your heart.

“Yeah,” he affirms, his gaze steady and sincere, each word punctuated by the thrum of your pulse. The admission hangs in the air, heavy and exhilarating.

“Oh,” you manage to breathe out, the weight of his words settling in like the leaves falling around you. Your cheeks flush, warmth flooding your entire face as you try to process what this means.

Steve seems to realize the misunderstanding, his facedeepens with a mix of hope and anxiety. “I mean, if you want it to be…” He shifts slightly, clearly feeling exposed, but the earnest look in his eyes anchors you to the moment.

You can hardly believe this, the butterflies in your stomach now performing a whole concert rather than just a cha-cha. “Sorry, I didn’t realize…” you stammer, trying to find the right words while your heart races like it’s in a sprint. “I thought we were just… hanging out as friends.”

His expression shifts slightly, a blend of relief and a hint of hurt flickering across his features.

“Shit, I should have made it clearer when I asked you out. I was pretty nervous… It’s totally okay, if you don’t feel the same, but I really hoped we could be… more than just friends. I really like you, you know?” The determination in his voice swells with sincerity, and your breath catches again, this time for an entirely different reason. His honesty floods the air around you, and for a moment, everything seems to fade—the laughter, the stars overhead, the gentle bumps of the wagon.

You can hardly process the whirlwind of emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave. “You... really like me?” The surprise in your voice is undeniable. You had convinced yourself that the interest was one-sided, a figment of your imagination conjured by the butterflies and the lingering glances.

“Yeah, I do,” he reiterates, an earnest smile breaking through his initial unease. “I didn’t want to rush anything, but spending time with you these past months has been so much fun. Back in high school I always thought you seemed so smart and cool and you know… really pretty. But I didn’t think you would be into a dumb jock like me.” His voice carries a hint of vulnerability, making you melt a little more for him.

Your heart swells at his confession, and the rush of emotions leaves you momentarily speechless. “I thought you weren’t into girls like me,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper, vulnerability seeping into your words.

“Girls like you?” he echoes, eyebrows knitting together in disbelief. “That’s just not true. You’re incredible. You’re smart, funny, and you’re not afraid to be yourself.” The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, filling the gaps left by all the self-doubt that had crept in over the years.

“I… I like you too, Steve,” you admit softly, your heart pounding against your ribcage as the truth finally escapes. The world around you falls away, the crackling of the hay under your knees and the sounds from the festival merging into a blurry background.

He smiles at you, that same breathtaking smile that had made your heart race all summer long. “Really? I mean, wow. I was worried I might have stepped over the line, putting us in some weird situation,” he admits, relief washing over his features.

You shake your head, a joyful laugh bubbling up. “You could never make things weird. I just didn’t realize you felt that way. I always thought I was just... you know, the quiet girl with the crush.”

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow, and there’s a twinkle in his eye that feels like your own secret shared between the two of you. “Well, turns out we’ve both been a bit clueless, huh?”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up as you realize how amusing this whole situation is. “Seems like it,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “I never thought you even noticed me.”

“Trust me, I noticed,” he responds, the intensity of his gaze making your stomach flip. “We can take this slow, just enjoy the night, but I want you to know that I would love to be more than just friends.”

His eyes search yours for reassurance, and at that moment, amidst the laughter and lights of the festival, the world around you shifts into clarity. You both breathe deeply, holding onto this newfound connection as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

With the stars twinkling above, the tractor bumps along the path, and you can’t help but lean a little closer, feeling bolder in the warmth of his confession. “Okay,” you finally respond, your heart fluttering at the thought of all that could come next. “I mean, I’d like that.”

Steve beams, a boyish grin spreading across his face. As the tractor lumbers along, the bright lights of the festival twinkling in the distance. And then, without thinking much at all, you lean in, drawn by some instinctive need to close the distance between you. Your heart beats wildly, anticipation hanging thick in the air as you catch the scent of the autumn breeze mixed with the sweetness of caramel apples and the warmth of hay all around you. Time seems to slow as he meets you halfway, and in a heartbeat, your lips brush against his in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s sweet, electrifying, a spark that ignites every nerve ending in your body.

You hold your breath, momentarily surprised by how right it feels—like fitting the last piece of a puzzle you didn’t even know was missing. When you pull back slightly, the look in his eyes is pure wonder, the fluttering tension replaced by something warmer and deeper.

“Wow,” he breathes, a soft laugh escaping his lips as if he can hardly believe it just happened. The smile on his face is electric, and your heart swoops at the sight of it. “That was—”

“Really nice,” you finish for him, you still feel the imprint of his lips against yours. It surprises you how natural it felt, how right—as if you had been waiting for this moment without even knowing it.

“Definitely,” he nods, his smile only getting wider as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

You chuckle lightly, your heart still racing as the aftershocks of the kiss continue to pulse through you. You lean your shoulder against his. Steve’s arm finds its way around you, pulling you a little closer, and you feel safe, excited, and thankful that tonight is unfolding in a way you never dared hope.

The wagon lurches forward again, providing a firm reminder of the bustling festival around you. You both settle into a comfortable silence, your shoulders brushing against one another, and it feels like you’re creating your own little world away from everything.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ♡

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luveline · 1 year ago

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PLEASE I NEED MORE STRIPPER READER X AARON

cw reader is able to wear hotch's clothes, adult theme mdni

Your hands ache. You have calluses on your palm, unsightly, but if you were to soak them off you'd bleed.

The club is practically dead. You can get away with a low effort routine —old men and day drunks don't care what you're doing so long as they can see your chest. The level of undress is your choice (though the girls willing to dance fully nude get the better slots, obviously), and you've been doing this for long enough that it doesn't really bother you when a patron shouts for you to take your bra off. Your hand is slipping behind your back for the clasp when you notice him near the bar.

Agent Hotchner —you can call me Hotch— usually catches your attention and leaves. A quick nod after he's met your eyes, he'll wait for you to get dressed and meet him out front near his intimidating car. But today he watches even after you smile hello, and someone close by throws a ten at your feet like you'd been smiling for them. He's expressionless.

It's far more difficult to finish your dance knowing he's watching. He doesn't stay for long, ten seconds at most, but those ten seconds are much longer than he's ever watched you perform before.

You finish your dance, collect your tips, and trudge back to the dressing rooms. You would've made more money if you'd stripped down. Not much considering the small audience, but some. You can't explain why seeing Hotch had made you stay your hand, maybe because he's one of the only men you know who treats you like you're fully human. You don't want that to change.

It's colder outside than it was when you arrived. Traffic is picking up as people leave their jobs for the day, and the club will be busier in the night hours. You'll stay, hopefully make enough for food this week.

"Are you warm enough?" he asks immediately.

"I didn't bring my jacket." You shrug. "I'd rather be out here with you." Than go back inside, no matter how cold.

He opens his trunk with a click of the key fob and disappears behind the tail end. You can see his arm move, a bundle of black fabric. His arm flexes as he closes the trunk, and his eyebrows have hooked together when he returns to you.

"Here," he says, "it should fit."

Just a simple charcoal quarter zip. You shrug it on over your clothes and find yourself immediately greeted by the smell of men's cologne. His cologne.

"What can I help you with today, Mr. Hotchner?" you ask. You're flirting in that useless way where it doesn't mean a thing, and he knows that, because, as you've come to find about these special agents, they know everything.

"I wanted to ask you to dinner."

"Oh, I don't… I don't do the escort stuff," you say gently.

"I know." He turns his head away from you. "I realise that it's unprofessional. I know it puts you in an uncomfortable position to say no. But I want to take you out for dinner, if you'd let me."

You stare at him. "I won't sleep with you after one fancy dinner–"

"It's not like that." He speaks so calmly, so quietly.

It doesn't make any sense. He's a professional man in a successful career, with a son if you remember correctly, and a circle of peers his own age and status. If he doesn't want to fuck you, if he really wants to take you out for dinner, that's a date.

"What, you want to be my boyfriend?" you ask, shaking your head, lips pulled down in a frustrated frown.

"I– well, if things went well, I wouldn't be opposed to it." He laughs.

"Are you messing with me?"

"No, I'm sorry. I just wasn't prepared for the question."

He meets you head on. Face to face and eye to eye, he looks at you with, for once, a completely readable expression. It's a bit startling. The slight lift to his brow and his half-smile, it's an expression that says, If you want to. It puts all the choice in your hands.

"I know we don't know one another that well, I," —his eyes soften another shade, tenderness like no one's ever given you— "wanted to make my intentions clear to you. I didn't want to continue our professional relationship and then pull the rug out from under you later."

You know Hotch through car rides, mostly. He's taken you home from a couple of places now, usually after he's asked you questions about someone or something to do with the sex trafficking ring currently being squashed in Virginia. He's nice. You've told him without fretting about the consequences that he's handsome. When you first met, you asked him why gentlemen like him didn't come to see you dance.

You didn't think the answer was that they might grow to have feelings for you.

You wonder if he's just lonely. But lonely Hotch could still have a number of women that aren't you, right?

"Like you'd never get a handle on it?" you ask, subtly teasing.

He reacts to your tone visibly. His smile gets worse, which is to say better, and his voice sounds similarly teasing as he answers, "I tried to. That's exactly what you need, another old man with the wrong idea."

"I don't think you have the wrong idea, Hotch."

"But you don't reject that I'm old?"

You leap to correct him through laughter, surprised at his quick wit, and he leaps to let you know he's kidding through his own. You tell him while things are warm that you'd like to go to dinner with him, if he really means it, and he holds one of your hands like a prince, thumb ghosting over your knuckles, unafraid of the calluses on your hands. He touches you like you're made of glass.

You try to give him back his jacket before he leaves, but he insists you keep it. "If you freeze before I get to take you out, I won't forgive you."

Huh, you think as he drives away, waving, the sleeve of his borrowed jacket falling down your arm. Who knew Special Agent Hotchner was a flirt?

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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catmiemy · 6 months ago

Text

Another Chance to Live Part 3 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Both Ana and you spend some time at your national camps. It helps you to finally realize a few things.

Part 1, Part 2

A/N: At this point I think I'm just committing to aim for an upload every Sunday. Maybe I'll manage to update sooner at some point, but usually I end up being way too busy during the week. And in case anyone is wondering, there will be three more parts after this.

I was really excited for this part, so I hope you guys will be to. And thank you to anyone who has shared their thoughts about this story, it always make my day. :)

Also, Ana at the Champions league final just broke my heart all over again!

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, and while you missed Ana’s presence next to you, you were also glad for the moment of reflection it allowed you. Last night had blurred the lines between the Swiss woman and you, a prospect that seemed much scarier in the bright light of day.

Maybe it also felt more daunting at the moment because you were nervous about going to camp. Conditions had improved somewhat for the Spanish national team, but it still wasn’t a happy place to be. It was still an ongoing back and forth, constant fighting for every small thing to hopefully one day get to the point you all wanted to be.

So you didn’t feel prepared for a complex and emotional conversation with Ana right now. You just wanted a peaceful morning with your best friend, eating a nice breakfast, enjoying each other’s company, sharing one last hug before going to your respective national teams. After last night though, you weren’t sure if that was in the cards for you today.

Once you gathered enough courage to leave your bedroom, you were greeted by the smell of coffee and pancakes, your absolute favorite breakfast food. So at least the tasty breakfast part of your wish was being fulfilled.

Ana smiled at you gently and wished you a good morning when she saw you. You echoed her statement, readily excepting the cup of coffee she handed you. It made you happy how comfortable she felt in your apartment, almost as if she was your girlfriend making breakfast for you.

She wasn’t though! She was your amazing friend making breakfast for you, and that was nice too.

“Are you ready for national camp?” The Swiss woman asked while she plated the last of the pancakes and moved to sit at the table.

You took a sip of coffee to avoid having to answer straight away. This was a loaded question, with the potential of leading to a variety of difficult topics you didn’t have the strength to acknowledge right now.

“It’ll be nice to see everyone again,” you offered vaguely.

The blonde nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, that’s one of the best parts of national camp. I’m very excited to see Lia again.”

Ana’s eyes were shining with happiness and you could tell how much she was looking forward to seeing her Swiss friend again. It made you irrationally jealous. You had no right to feel like this, Ana was allowed to have other friends, and of course she should be happy to see them.

“Who are you most looking forward to seeing?” Ana carried on, thankfully completely oblivious to the jealousy burning inside of you.

Her question left you in a bit of a dilemma. There were some players you were always especially excited to see, but most of them were friends of Ana as well and you didn’t want to risk her telling them. Not when you were pretty sure that they would never give you as the answer to such a question.

“All of them really.”

It was more of a non-answer really, but you felt like the time you could take for answering such a simple question had ran out and it was the safest option you could think of.

“I know that they’re all excited to see you too,” the Swiss woman assured you.

You hummed in fake agreement, quickly changing the subject to Ana’s travel itinerary. It was nice of her to lie on your behalf; the blonde had probably caught on that the question had me you flustered. She was empathetic like that. Still, you didn’t want to linger longer than necessary on this.

Sadly, the morning passed way too quickly for your liking and all too soon it was time to say goodbye to Ana for now. You felt like crying, which was ridiculous, it wasn’t even two weeks before you saw her again.

The two of you hugged goodbye and you were relieved that the Swiss woman allowed the hug to last for a while, seemingly also in no hurry to walk away. However, when you finally let go of each other, it was still too soon for you.

Ana smiled at you with gentle eyes and a slightly melancholy smile. Apparently you weren’t doing a good job at hiding your unhappiness if it was so obvious to her.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” The Swiss woman said. “Call me or text me whenever!”

Ana waited for you to nod, then she turned around, waving as she walked away. You had to take some deep breaths to stop yourself from bursting into tears right there in your doorway. However, you didn’t have time for a crying session right now; you had to get a move on to get to the airport on time.

You were ready in the nick of time, finishing a final check when you heard a knock on the door. It was Misa who had offered to pick you up so you could drive to the airport together.

“Ready?” The goalkeeper asked after greeting you, but one look at your face made her change her course of questioning. “Why the long face?”

You shrugged your shoulders. You really didn’t want to get into that right now.

“Well you better put on a poker face before the others see you, or Jenni will tease you to no end about your crush on Ana,” Misa advised.

“What? I don’t have a crush on Ana!” You shot back. „She’s my friend.“

Misa smirked. „Yeah sure, whatever you want to believe.”

“It’s the truth though!”

Your teammate raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay.”

You could tell that Misa didn’t believe you at all. But you didn’t feel like arguing any more, you most likely wouldn’t convince her either way. How could you when every reasoning you could possibly give her was a lie?

Heeding Misa’s advice you made sure to erase all sadness from your face before meeting up with the rest of your national teammates. Still, it only took a few minutes after the initial greetings were over for Jenni to approach you with a sly smile on her face. You had never wished for the ground to swallow you as much as you did in that moment.

The older woman threw an arm around you, pulling you close.

“So what’s going on with you and Anamari?” She whispered into your ear. However, she did so loudly enough for everyone in your vicinity to overhear and suddenly all of the attention zoomed in on you.

You freed yourself from Jenni’s holds, crossing your arms and challenging the black haired woman with a hard gaze.

“Nothing! We’re just good friends. Can we move on now?“

“Aw look at you being all firm. Does Ana like that?” Jenni teased.

You flushed bright red, very uncomfortable with this conversation.

“Leave her alone, Jenni!” Alexia commanded and you flashed her a thankful smile.

Jenni rolled her eyes, muttering something about how everyone always ruined her fun, but thankfully she listened to her ex-girlfriend. Though, you weren’t naïve enough to assume this wouldn’t come up again during camp.

It wasn’t until much later, when you were laying in your bed that you wondered how Jenni even knew about Ana and you. Not that there was anything going on, nothing mutual at least. But still, it seemed unlikely that she had come to that conclusion by herself all the way over there in Mexico.

Had Misa or Lola, who had both picked up on your crush a while ago, even though you had never confirmed their suspicions, talked to her about it? Or did she hear it from Ana herself? That would mean that the Swiss woman either had feelings for you as well or that she had realized you were in love with her at some point.

That second option made your anxiety spike through the roof. How embarrassing if Ana really knew! You desperately wanted to go and ask Jenni about her sources right this moment, but in the end you weren’t ready to endure the subsequent teasing.

Therefore you were forced to mull it over silently, trying to find some small scrap of evidence for any of the possible scenarios. It was a fruitless endeavor with the only result that you couldn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning.

---

All in all the time at national camp was pleasant enough. You enjoyed being around all of your teammates, even if you had to put up with more teasing about Ana, mostly from Jenni. It wasn’t too bad though and you got better and better at just ignoring her comments.

You also took great care to suppress the goofy smile that always threatened to bubble up when you got a text from Ana. So you were doing your part to minimize the teasing you had to endure.

But then on the night before your last game the Swiss woman called you for the first time since you had parted ways, and it was at the most inconvenient time. You were hanging out with Jenni and most of the Barcelona girls when your phone started buzzing.

Your heart did a somersault when you noticed who was calling. You had wanted to call her every day, every hour really, but had refrained from doing so because you didn’t want to bother Ana. But now she was calling you!

Unfortunately Jenni was sitting right next to you, instantly seeing Ana’s name flashing on your phone. You could practically feel the glee radiating from her. However, you didn’t pay her any attention, too busy getting up and leaving the room while answering the phone. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have with an audience.

“Hi Ana,” you said almost at the doorway.

What you heard on the other side of the phone made you foolishly stop in your tracks. The Swiss woman was sobbing into the line and you wished with everything in you that you could crawl through the line to comfort your friend properly.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” You asked; panic seeping into your tone.

You only realized your mistake when you heard gasps behind you and turned around. And sure enough you were met by concerned faces all around. You waved them off, not really certain what you were trying to communicate with that gesture.

To avoid any more unwanted eavesdropping, you quickly left the room, just barely hearing Irene calling after you to come tell them what was going on once you finished your call. You nodded even though you had already closed the door behind you, so there was no way they could see it.

You kept talking to Ana while rushing to the privacy of your room, telling her that everything was going to be okay, that you were here, that she should try and take some deep breaths, that you would be on the phone with her as long as she needed. You weren’t sure if the blonde even processed a word of what you were saying, but at least this way you were doing something.

You were already seated on your bed for quite a while, repeating the same things over and over again, when Ana’s sobs finally died down.

“Sorry,” was the first thing the Swiss woman said. You desperately wanted to shoot that stupid word to the moon.

“No, no, you have nothing to apologize for! I’m happy you called me. I wish I was near you, so I could give you a hug or something. Do you want me to call Lia and tell her to come give you a hug? I mean I don’t have her number, but I could probably go and ask Mario.”

On the other side of the phone Ana chuckled softly, a noise that sounded heavenly after listening to her miserable crying for so long.

“That’s sweet, but I don’t want Lia just yet. I’ll go see her afterwards, but right now I just want to talk with you a little longer if that’s okay.”

“Of course! That’s more than okay,” you quickly reassured Ana.

Did it mean something that she preferred talking with you over talking with Lia? The Arsenal player was one of her oldest and best friends, so surely Ana should prefer her comfort, unless…No, you couldn’t go there! Especially not right now, when you should be focusing on making the blonde feel better.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You inquired gently.

There was a small pause, but then the words started tumbling from Ana’s mouth.

“Being here is just so frustrating! Ever since I dared to question some of Inka’s decision during the World Cup, respectfully and with sound reasons might I add, she acts as if everything I do is a direct attack on her. Today I brought Rio some water and for some reason Inka took that as me saying she’s overworking us and doesn’t care about our health? I feel like I can’t do anything without offending her.”

“And let’s be honest I don’t really care about hurting her feelings or whatever, she’s a big girl, but then she told me today she won’t play me tomorrow because I’ve been too disrespectful. And I haven’t even done anything! How insecure does a person have to be to act like this? I just wish we could get rid of her already!”

Ana’s voice was getting louder and louder, but suddenly she went all quiet again as if that last thing was too scary to utter it too loudly.

“I’m so scared at this point that I won’t get to play at the home Euros. And that’s my biggest dream. She can’t take that away from me.”

A fresh wave of tears began leaking from the Swiss woman’s eyes, but this time she was crying silently. The only giveaways were some sniffles and the sudden quietness.

You had been listening quietly while Ana spoke, going through your own emotional roller coaster. Knowing that the blonde was in so much turmoil, hearing it from a distance, was cracking your heart one word at a time, one tear at a time.

But you were also furious and if you would have been anywhere near that horrible coach you would have punched her right in the face. Not that violence was the answer, although maybe it was when someone was making Ana feel this miserable.

Then again Inka didn’t deserve any of your time or energy; both were much better spent by focusing on your friend.

“I’m sorry things are so bad right now and I wish there was more I could do, but I’m always here if you need to rant or talk and I can’t wait to see you again and be a real shoulder to cry on. I’ll give you the biggest hug the moment I see you,” you promised.

Ana let out a watery chuckle. “I can’t wait for that. I’m debating if I should just leave tonight,” she admitted.

“I get that, but don’t do that, it’ll only give Inka more ammunition. Try holding out a little longer, I have no doubt that her days are numbered and soon enough you guys will be rid of her. She’s ruining your national team and with such a big home tournament coming up, that’s the last thing your federation will want. And let’s be honest, you have to play at the Euros, you’re one of the biggest names Switzerland has, so it’ll be stupid to leave you out.”

Suddenly you were glad that you had spent a lot of time informing yourself about the Swiss national team, which of course included all of its recent problems. You had rationalized it to yourself by claiming you did so out of professional interest, but really you had wanted to know as much about Ana as you could. And now it was definitely paying off.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right and really it’s nothing compared to what you guys went through. I shouldn’t even be complaining-,” Ana apologized frantically.

“Don’t,” you stopped her, “Don’t do that. There’s no point in comparing bad situations and putting them in any sort of hierarchy. Things suck even if something might be objectively worse and it’s okay to feel bad about it. And it’s always okay for you to tell me about things that are bothering you.”

There was a short moment of silence and of course you instantly played back your words, trying to figure out what you could have done wrong. You probably had been coming on too strong, you should add that you always wanted to know what was going on with all of your friends in order to support them.

In fact, you were already opening your mouth to say exactly that, when Ana broke the silence, “Thank you so much. I’m so grateful to have you in my life. Really.”

Naturally, you noticed that the Swiss woman didn’t clarify that she was happy you were her friend and of course it stoked some foolish hope inside of you. Lately you had been trying to decide what was better, having false hope or having no hope. You hadn’t come to a conclusion yet, so you stayed in this weird state of in between, going from absolute hopelessness to overwhelming hopefulness.

After this you didn’t talk too much longer, Ana wanted to go and fill in Lia. This time you only felt a tiny hint of jealousy at the other Swiss woman, mostly you were relieved that someone close to Ana was going to give her a hug. Even if it would have been much better if it could have been you.

There was a knock on your door about ten minutes after you had hung up. You knew instantly who it was. The only surprise was that it had taken Jenni this long to come and find you. Preparing yourself for more teasing you opened the door.

However, you weren’t met by the usual grinning Jenni with mischief shimmering in her eyes, but by a serious woman wearing a concerned expression.

She waltzed right into your room once she noticed that you were off the phone, sitting down on your bed.

“Is Anamari okay?”

You tilted your head from one side to the other. „She isn’t great, but I think talking about it helped. She went to go be with Lia now.”

Jenni nodded. “That’s good. What was it about then?”

„Issues with the national team. I don’t really know how much I can say. Ana didn’t tell me not to talk about it, but I still don’t want to betray her confidence,” you declared.

Luckily Jenni accepted this easily. “You’re a good friend, chica. But are you sure you’re really just a friend?”

You sighed; of course the black haired woman had to bring this up again. Although, maybe this was your chance to get some more information about Jenni’s knowledge of Ana’s potential feelings.

“Do you know something? I mean did Ana tell you something?” You asked instead of answering the older woman’s questions, cringing at how obvious your eagerness was.

A small smirk crept back onto Jenni’s face. “Oh, no chica, just like you can’t tell me what Ana and you talked about, I can’t talk about what Ana and I spoke about.”

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t really see much of an option to argue her point. It was fair enough, it was just also very frustrating.

Instead of continuing to tease you, Jenni’s expression quickly sobered when you stayed silent. “Look it shouldn’t matter what I possible know or don’t know about Ana’s feelings. You own feelings aren’t dependent on what she feels.“

This was shockingly wise from someone who often acted like a teenage boy. Then again it shouldn’t really be surprising to you because you were pretty familiar with this much more mature and serious side of Jenni that only her friends and family got to see.

And obviously she was right. Your feelings were there whether or not Ana returned them. However, you would never deliberately reveal them to anyone until you where 1000% sure that the Swiss woman also felt something more than friendship for you.

Jenni let you stew in silence for a while, but when it became clear that you wouldn’t say anything else, she got up with a sigh. She knew there was no point in trying any longer tonight; you needed time to figure things out by yourself.

“Call me when you decide you’re ready to face your feelings out in the open,” she instructed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

---

A couple days later it was time to go back home and you were eager to do so. Still, you took the time to say a proper goodbye to everyone, especially Jenni. It would be a while before you saw her again. And even though she often annoyed you, you also appreciated her friendship.

“Remember what I said, yeah?” She reminded you once you parted ways.

You nodded, convinced that it would never come to this. You couldn’t see a future where you would open up about your feelings any time soon.

Back in Madrid you were faced with the awkwardness of having to tell Misa that you weren’t driving home with her. The moment you had figured out that Ana would arrive after you, you had decided to wait at the airport for her.

Of course you didn’t say as much to the goalkeeper, but she put two and two together easily.

“I won’t tease you right now because you’ve endured enough of that these last ten days, but girl open your eyes!” Misa exclaimed, then she gave you a hug and disappeared.

Why did no one realize that you weren’t oblivious to your own feelings? You were well aware of them, the problem were Ana’s feelings or the lack thereof.

The time waiting wasn’t spend very productive. You were too anxious to potentially miss Ana, so you just sat around staring at the sliding doors she should exit from long before there was any chance of her actually coming out.

When you read on the arrival board that her plane had landed, you suddenly worried that the Swiss woman might find this weird. You had thought it was a nice gesture and it allowed you to give the promised hug at the earliest moment possible, but it might come across as too much.

You had almost talked yourself into enough insecurity that you were going to leave, when you spotted Ana. A huge smile spread on your face and before you even fully registered that it was actually her, your mouth was already moving.

“Ana!“ You shouted.

The Swiss woman looked around, confusion clearly written on her face. However when she was you, the confusion morphed into pure joy. She rushed over to you, tackling you into a hug. It felt so nice, completely right somehow, to have the blonde in your arms again.

„What are you doing here?” Ana asked, making no move to break the hug. And you sure as hell weren’t going to do so anytime soon.

“I wanted to give you the hug I owed you as soon as possible,” you explained, glad that Ana couldn’t see the blush on your face.

The Swiss woman tightened her hold on you.

“I’m so glad you did.”

At some point you did have to let go of each other, but before you could fully break apart, the Swiss woman caught your hand, intertwining your fingers. She looked at you searchingly; keen to make sure you were okay with this. There was little you had been more okay with in your life.

“Do you want to come over?” Ana asked hopefully when you got into her car.

“I’d love to,” you responded. “And before I assume incorrectly again, do you prefer to talk about the national camp situation or would you rather just hang out as a distraction?”

Ana smiled at this; she really appreciated your question. At least for the night she actually wanted to think about other things than the national camp, and she told you as much. Therefore the two of you spent a relaxing evening together, ordering food, watching some TV, before going to bed relatively early.

Throughout the entire evening you carefully watched Ana for any hints she might have feelings for you too. And there were some signs, the way she looked at you, how she laughed at your jokes, the way she initiated physical contact whenever possible.

If you would be watching this as a neutral spectator there would be little doubt in your mind, that all of these were subtle clues hinting at a crush. But because it concerned you, you couldn’t be so sure.

And the most confusing thing was the matter of why the Swiss woman wouldn’t just tell you if she had feelings for you. You had been so obvious that everyone else had caught on, so if the feelings were mutual surely Ana would have told you by now?

The next morning when it was time to say goodbye, you once again felt sad. Which was even more ridiculous this time around because you would see each other again the next day.

When you got back to your apartment, you picked up the phone and called Jenni before you could second guess yourself. If you began thinking about it, you would lose your ability to act.

“You were right, I like her,” you stated without even saying hello.

On the other side of the line you could hear a happy squeal, “Finally! You will be so cute together, I can already see myself getting sick when we’re all going to hang out. Maybe you could take a trip over here during winter break.”

It was reassuring that Jenni seemed so sure that this would work out between you and Ana, but you couldn’t get your own hopes up like this.

“Slow down, Jenni. Just because I like her doesn’t mean we will end up in a relationship. I’m still not sure about Ana’s feelings.“

„Oh my god, I’ve never met anyone as oblivious as you! I know for a fact that Ana has been hinting at it for ages, but now that you’ve come clean I can confirm that she also has feelings for you.”

Your heart was soaring at these words. Did they mean what you thought they meant?

“Wait, are you saying Ana told you she liked me too?” You double-checked.

Jenni chuckled. “Yeah, let me spell it out for you; my dear friend Ana Maria Crnogorčević has told me, Jennifer Hermoso Fuentes, that she likes you.”

At this point even you found it hard to hang on to any lingering doubt, but still you managed to do so because there was one last thing bothering you.

“Then why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because Anamari asked me not to. She wasn’t totally sure if you really had feelings for her too or if you were just confused, so she didn’t want you to be influenced by her feelings. And even though I told her that was stupidest thing I’ve ever heard and that she should just let me tell you because you never believe anything until you get hit by a blinking neon sign, ultimately it wasn’t my decision.”

You couldn’t even be mad at Jenni’s comment about you needing things to be completely obvious; it was definitely true. But you also thought that no one could fault you for having a hard time believing that someone as wonderful as Ana wanted to be with someone as mundane as you.

“But I was so obvious,” you brought up one thing you couldn’t fully understand yet. How had there been any doubt in Ana’s mind?

“Chica, you kept saying things like you love her as a friend or you’re always happy to be there for your friends. Of course she had some doubts,” Jenni pointed out.

“But…But I only said that because I was so obvious otherwise and I didn’t want her to suspect anything,” you defended yourself, realizing how that sounded while you were still speaking. Suddenly it made a lot more sense why Ana hadn’t revealed her feelings to you before.

“Okay, okay, I heard it, don’t say anything, Jenni,” you quickly added, before the older woman could tease you about it.

Then something dawned on you. “Oh god, how do I ask her out though?”

Jenni snorted. “Just ask her on a date. It’s not that hard, you know she’ll say yes now. Just don’t over think it, even if that’s hard for you.”

You nodded, already over thinking it. Should you call Ana now? Should you ask her when you saw each other tomorrow? Should you text her in case she had somehow changed her mind since she last spoke to Jenni?

“I can hear you over thinking it all the way over here in Mexico!” Jenni scolded you. “Just do it. I’d love to hold your hand through it, but it’s the middle of the night here, so I need my beauty sleep. Not that I really need it, I’m pretty enough as it is, but still.”

A pang of guilt hit you. You hadn’t thought about the time difference at all.

“I’m so sorry, I woke you up, Jenni,” you apologized.

“Don’t be, this was a good reason to be woken up for. Go get your girl now,” Jenni instructed.

Despite this you apologized once again and thanked the black haired woman profusely, foolishly saying that you owed her one. Going by Jenni’s reaction you would come to regret this at some point, but that was for future you to worry about

Right now you had other things to worry about, like how to ask Ana out. Even if you had gotten confirmation that the Swiss woman liked you too, it still felt like this had to be perfect, otherwise she might suddenly have a change of heart.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic x reader

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palms-upturned · 2 years ago

Text

I’m not gonna jump in ppl’s notes over this bc lord knows I do not want to have a debate about it but seeing someone say “I have qualms about people calling Jean ableist for trying to fire Harry and in the same breath saying Harry is unfit for cop work” is really getting to me. I am practically on my knees begging people to actually engage with what disco elysium has to say about disability and addiction and ableism and policing and social murder because it’s not even subtextual, it’s as blatant and hand holding as it could possibly be. The 41st is an awful environment for Harry not bc him being disabled makes him incapable of doing his job, it’s bc the job is fucking hostile to his existence. Like, no one is “fit” to be a cop because they shouldn’t exist, firstly, and even Harry himself will say as much in the Ruby bad ending. But talking about Harry’s case specifically, we know that this job is part of what landed him where he is to begin with.

From the start of day 2:

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — You mean why are you so tired? Too tired and *down* to even think? It *is* worrying, isn't it. You can't be a detective like this -- detectives need to be able to think.

YOU — Why is this happening?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — It's just that your heart has finally pumped all the *speed* out of your system, buster. Time to get some more.

YOU — Wait. What *is*... speed?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Speed is a potent central nervous system stimulant. It kept you propped up all day yesterday despite your debilitating hangover. How else did you think you even got up from this floor?

VOLITION — You got up from this floor because of a holy vow you made sixteen years ago. With *me*. To wake up exactly 07:30 every morning until the day you die.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Don't be silly. There was no vow. You were high on speed. That was the only reason you got up. You can't *detect* without it, it's that simple.

YOU — No. I can take this. I am not going to go looking for speed.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Are you sure? Ready to live as this pathetic shell of yourself for days? Basically a week? Let's be honest -- two weeks, maybe three? You won't make it. Half the town will be dead by then. You will be fired.

YOU — That's a lie. I can do this without the speed. Half the town won't be dead... (Opt out.)

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Suit yourself, slow, sad shell-man. See how you do without your spark.

And from this talk with Kim in Klaasje’s room:

KIM KITSURAGI — "Amphetamine -- does it make you a better detective?"

SUGGESTION — Be honest. He's not grilling you, he just wants to know. Ask if he's ever wanted to take it too.

YOU — "Honestly, it makes me the detective I am. Have you thought of taking it too?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "Maybe I should?" He lets out a little pensive hum, rubbing his shoulder...

DRAMA — It's not insincere. He's actually giving it thought.

KIM KITSURAGI — "Doesn't the... pupils and the gurning jaw, the sweating... doesn't it become tiring after a while?"

YOU — "I understand it's unbecoming but if I don't perform this job well I am nothing. It's the price I pay."

Harry knows that the cost of getting sober would be that the precinct would let him go. They’re not going to have the patience to deal with him slowing down from the combo of withdrawal and no speed to “keep him propped up.” Not when the reason that he’s stayed on the force this long and risen in the ranks is most likely because he manages such a massive caseload, as we find out from Kim:

YOU — "Is two cases a week a good case load, lieutenant?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "Huh?" He raises his nose from his notes. "Two *complex* cases to undertake is a lot, yes. You *really* have to push yourself. I would not suggest it. Lest you start making mistakes."

YOU — "Two cases a week appears to have been my load, lieutenant. I'm not sure I completed them though."

KIM KITSURAGI — "Two?" He raises both eyebrows. "That's a lot. I didn't mean to say you're making mistakes, by the way. That was presumptuous of me."

And later:

KIM KITSURAGI — "This next row -- the one that wraps all the way around -- is your number of closed cases. *Closed* is good. It means finished. You've got, let's see..."

KIM KITSURAGI — "Wow, more than 200!"

YOU — "Is that a lot?"

KIM KITSURAGI — "It's *quite* a lot, even for someone who's been on the force for nearly two decades. Usually clearing more than 10 cases a year puts you in the 90th percentile of *all* RCM officers..."

Despite the trouble Harry makes, he’s considered an asset so long as he closes cases. To the point where he wasn’t punished for drunkenly beating Burke unconscious and then injuring his knee so badly that he can’t walk anymore just because this allowed them to close the “unsolvable case” of Leslie and Burke. 41 and the RCM as an institution don’t care about Harry’s or anyone else’s wellbeing, they care about whether the pros of having him around outweigh the cons.

From the lazareth call with Gottlieb:

YOU — "Isn't there *anything* you can do for me?"

NIX GOTTLIEB — "What, you want me to do blood work for you again, tell you just how bad things really are *across the board*? You want another rundown of everything collapsing inside your body?"

YOU — "Yes. I want the truth!"

NIX GOTTLIEB — "You want the real, honest-to-god truth? Stop drinking, eat magnesium and vitamin D. Our station is not a retirement home. We don't have the funds to deal with *rock stars* past their prime."

RHETORIC — So it's political! You're being *neglected* because of political reasons...

NIX GOTTLIEB — "And no, I *don't* want to hear a *political commentary* on the topic. In fact -- I've got work to do."

If I were to quote every time Gottlieb was notably uncaring or said something blasé about how you probably didn’t have long to live, I’d have to quote pretty much every word of that dialogue. That’s the whole joke with Gottlieb. That’s just how it is dealing with doctors when you’re in Harry’s position.

From talking to Kim about Uuno:

KIM KITSURAGI — "We could take him to Remedie or Saint Batiste, but he doesn't have money for medical services. The Almshouse would turn him down..."

KIM KITSURAGI — "They don't do charity for people who're trying to kill themselves. Besides, he'll be dead in a few..." The lieutenant stops, listening to him.

RHETORIC — ... years? Months? Weeks?

“They don’t do charity work for people who’re trying to kill themselves” really sums up the absurdity of Harry’s situation and institutional responses to it. Harry isn’t seen as the kind of person in crisis who deserves intervention. He’s treated as a lost cause who deserves to suffer the consequences of his self harm, even though the unending crisis and the lack of response to it is what drives him to harm himself and hope that he “gets worse.” If he weren’t a cop, it’s unlikely that Kim would care about him any more than he cares about Uuno and Cuno’s situation. Harry’s job is killing him, but it’s also the only thing that gives him access to anything resembling a community or support network (at least at the start of the game). Again, that’s just the way it goes when you’re disabled.

From the second tribunal:

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Well -- here is my theory: What if this is an absolutely normal reaction to the world we're living in? What if this is *not* a significant anomaly at all, something to be explained, approached as a defect? Look at the sensory input here..." He gestures toward the scenery.

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Look at the ruins, the neon, listen to the radio, the multitudes. The people. Live here for forty years... As a police detective, he's like a magnetic reader on the world-tape -- to borrow a known metaphor. Harry's been pushed *flat against it*. Total input."

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "Hard-wired to the free market..." He nods confidently. "He just needed for it to end."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Okay, Trant, thank you. That's... absolutely meaningless. I'm glad we brought you. Will he or will he not be able to work in the Major Crimes Unit? Is he a cretin now? I want to know *that*."

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "He is *not* a cretin. And he *is* able to do work -- if not in his previous leadership role, then as a line detective."

YOU — "Line detective is good for now."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "For *now*?" He looks at you, then at Trant. "I misphrased my question. It should have been: Is he able to put his clothes on, and use the potty, or do we need to get him on a disability pension?"

Or, alternatively:

YOU — "He's wrong. I'm too far gone for work."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Agreed, Harry." He nods. "Just don't expect us to get you a disability pension. Cops who actually gave a shit are waiting in line. You're not gonna hog their seat."

Trant, who, notably, is technically a civilian consultant rather than a cop, (edit: and maybe even more notably, as someone pointed out in the tags, has had experience with addiction, too) suggests to Jean that Harry’s breakdown is a basically inevitable result of his circumstances and the systems that created them, and Jean’s response is that he doesn’t care and all that he wants to know is whether or not Harry can work or if he’s going to be “hogging” resources from other people who are more deserving of help because they “actually gave a shit.” He’s a mouthpiece here for the institutions that he represents and his ableism is blatant and heinous to drive the point home. He denies that Harry’s case is as serious as it is and accuses Harry of faking it, despite the fact that it’s happened (at least) twice before, and very recently:

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "I believe you *drank*. People do that -- you especially. What they don't do is forget their *whole life* because of drinking."

JUDIT MINOT — "But, Detective Vicquemare," she interjects. "He *has* blanked out before."

YOU — "I have?"

JUDIT MINOT — "Yes, a couple of times. After some of the more... serious benders." She pauses, remembering. "One was after the Two Drunks case, the other when we looked into that mural."

REACTION SPEED — The two cases... in your ledger. The Unsolvable Case and the Next World Mural. Those were recent.

And despite the fact that even Gottlieb doesn’t seem shocked about it:

YOU — "I've lost my memory. All of it."

NIX GOTTLIEB — "With all the damage you've been dealing yourself with drugs and alcohol, I'm not surprised."

AUTHORITY — There is no surprise in his voice. Only careless superiority.

DRAMA — It's hard to say if he doesn't believe you -- or doesn't care.

(Considering that Gottlieb’s PSY stat is so high (he’s even eating one of the PSY boosting candies during the call), along with his uncaring responses to all your other problems, it’s more likely the latter.)

Jean also won’t believe that you’re sober even if you haven’t touched so much as a cigarette for your entire playthrough, and even when Judit points out that he’s wrong, he’ll double down and say that it doesn’t matter because you’re going to relapse:

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Even the insect -- I don't care. But you're an *alcoholic*. And you've been drinking -- again. I won't let my life unravel because of this."

JUDIT MINOT — "Jean -- I think he hasn't. I can see it on his face..."

ENDURANCE — The bloating *has* gone down since you woke up that morning...

JEAN VICQUEMARE — "Okay, so he's stayed clear for what? A week?" He sighs.

TRANT HEIDELSTAM — "It's tough. One of the toughest addictions to overcome. Comparable *only* to heavy synthetic opiates. Even morphine is easier to kick than alcohol -- statistically. The odds are against him. Especially at his age."

JEAN VICQUEMARE — He nods. "He's too old. He's been like this for too long. I've seen him try many times. It's a farce by now."

SUGGESTION — They're leaving. They're all turning away from you.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — No. You can figure it out. *Replace* it! Replace the alcohol with amphetamine. Or GBL! Fuck it -- morphine! Graffito removal agent! Anything. It'll buy you time. All you need is time.

Electrochemistry brings up yet another facet of Harry’s struggles with substances, which is the idea that some of them may be replacements for alcohol. He doesn’t have time or space to try to quit in any way that is remotely healthy. What he has are substances like speed that keep him from collapsing from the strain of it all so that he can keep showing up to work, and other substances that might (he hopes) help him wean himself off the alcohol.

The game explores all of these different factors of Harry’s struggles with addiction and the circumstances that keep him trapped in them exhaustively (and the fact that Robert Kurvitz apparently was recovering from alcoholism during the development probably contributed a lot to that). The structure and culture of the RCM are hugely responsible for Harry’s situation. He’s mocked and berated for being an alcoholic and told repeatedly to get his shit together without actually providing him with the means to do that. Instead, he’s not only enabled but practically forced to keep using just so that he can show up to work at all and not risk losing the only support network he has (even if it’s the shittiest and most unhelpful network imaginable). As Luiga (iirc) said, Harry’s biggest tragedy is that he’s incapable of quitting the force. Many of the reasons for that are genuinely just due to Harry being a class traitor and an asshole, but it’s also true that even if he did want to quit, there is no safety net to catch him.

And then Harry comes to Martinaise, a town that has been “orphaned” by the RCM and neglected by Revachol at large, left mostly to their own devices. It’s not like policing doesn’t still exist in Martinaise, and things are pretty dire for everyone in the community, but at the very least you can see that it is a community. Isobel houses you for free. In Kim’s absence (and after Gottlieb stitches and ditches you), Cuno and Garte take care of you when you’re shot. Acele responds to your breakdown on the ice by saying it’s okay to cry and that you can talk with her about it when you’re ready. Idiot Doom Spiral and co run to your aid when they see you drive your car into the sea and invite you to come drink with them just to stop you from doing it again. Harry discovers that life, while very painful and bleak at times, isn’t necessarily hopeless for the marginalized. You can still find solidarity and support outside of the system.

Meanwhile, if Harry in the end has no one to vouch for him and hasn’t stayed sober, that system will abandon him, a well-known suicide risk with at least one bullet hole in him and severe amnesia, with the promise of nothing but getting served a station call slip. The point is not whether or not Harry “deserves” to be forgiven or even whether he’s a danger to himself and others (to be clear, he is). The point is that this is a system that doesn’t care whether Harry and people like him live or die. That is why, even in a “good” ending where Harry is welcomed back to the 41st, the work won’t be sustainable. It’s going to kill him because that’s what it’s designed to do. The miracle of Martinaise was the realization that he doesn’t have to die. There are people who will help to keep him on this earth. They’re just not members of the fucking RCM.

It’s not a “gotcha” to say that if Jean (and the RCM, and the institutions of Revachol on the whole) is ableist for wanting Harry fired, then saying that cop work is unsustainable for Harry is also ableist. I won’t even say what I personally think of that logic because I’m trying to keep the tone of this post polite. Jean’s dialogue during the tribunal is meant to parrot every bit of ableist rhetoric that the system is built on and that keeps Harry trapped in this hellish feedback loop. He’s a mouthpiece for the general culture of the RCM, just like Gottlieb is a mouthpiece for the shit that addicts and the disabled have to deal with from the medical system. He thinks Harry should be fired because he’s a drunk and therefor a lost cause. The truth is that Harry needs to quit this job because it shouldn’t exist and because it is actively killing him.

In one of Martin Luiga’s articles about the process of creating the game, he brings up the concept of social murder, which is a term coined by Engels:

When one individual inflicts bodily injury upon another such that death results, we call the deed manslaughter; when the assailant knew in advance that the injury would be fatal, we call his deed murder. But when society places hundreds of proletarians in such a position that they inevitably meet a too early and an unnatural death, one which is quite as much a death by violence as that by the sword or bullet; when it deprives thousands of the necessaries of life, places them under conditions in which they cannot live – forces them, through the strong arm of the law, to remain in such conditions until that death ensues which is the inevitable consequence – knows that these thousands of victims must perish, and yet permits these conditions to remain, its deed is murder just as surely as the deed of the single individual; disguised, malicious murder, murder against which none can defend himself, which does not seem what it is, because no man sees the murderer, because the death of the victim seems a natural one, since the offence is more one of omission than of commission. But murder it remains.

None of this is subtext. And all of it is intended to make players actually spare a thought for what it’s like for people in Harry’s situation in real life. For God’s sake, please engage with it. You have to try and understand what it means to be trapped in a life that is made unlivable and to know that your death will be ungrievable. That’s what this whole game is about.

Edit: I’ve seen some ppl say in the tags something like “yeah, I like to imagine a happy ending for Harry, but…” and listen. I am laying a very gentle hand on your shoulders. The point of this post was never to say that there’s no happy ending for Harry. The point is that the first step toward that ending is conceptualizing a life outside of the RCM. In Martinaise, he got a glimpse of what that might look like. Hell, in the bad ending, you can even say to Jean, “fine then. I’ll just live here.” There’s hope for him and for us. I promise.

#meg talks #disco elysium #i have been seething over this all day. sorry.#i’ll be nice and won’t tag any characters mentioned here

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aseaofyoongi · 2 years ago

Text

behind pixels 1 | jjk

jjk x reader (f)

genre: sex worker au (jk)

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: with rising stress, being caught touching yourself and no satisfaction for your own imagination you decide to take your friends advice of using a certain little app for assistance.

warnings: not another college smut au . . you guessed it lol; foul language; sensual/dirty talk; masturbation; computer sex; strangers to sex worker jk helping you out for the night lol (pls stay safe of the world wide web yall); mentions of sexual intercourse - but ofc there is none; cum eating. . she licks her fingers after.. yeah; open ending and no preparation for a pt. 2 so dont hate me.

next part: behins pixels the sequel

word count: 3,3 thousand words

posted: april 8th, 2023

BunnyBoy98 is typing…..

Is this your first time

here?

Sorta.

You can’t sorta be

here for the first time.

It's a yes or no question.

I thought this site was

no questions asked. No

strings attached?

You against conversation

or something? Desperate

to get right to it?

Not desperate. . but that is

what we’re here for.

Right bunny boy?

Right.

There was a second of silence in between messages. For a brief moment you interpreted his quietness as a goodbye but he was still online. . Perhaps, he thought you to be too straightforward and that turned him off entirely and he moved on to the next user.

Still, there was a faint hope within you that he would reply so you sat in the dead stillness of your room, lights turned off to avoid recognition, door locked with only your undergarments to hug your body.

Typically, this wouldn’t be the event to make-up your Friday night however stressed induced days. . and the simple fact that you were in a torment of arousal twenty-four seven with no further satisfaction stemming from the guidance your imagination had on your fingers.

BunnyBoy98 is typing…..

You sat up on the bed in anticipation of his reply even though you'd never admit it to the stranger on the other side of the screen. He was about to help you get off, so you were definitely at the gates of desperation. It trickled all throughout your body as if a rain cloud sat right above you drenching you in its honeyed ardor.

Your skin turned to goosebumps as the chat bubble continued appearing and disappearing again and again.

Fine. But at least

tell me how you

found me.

I wasn’t specifically

searching for you.

Then who?

Anyone really.

Ouch. You know

I actually felt a bit

special for a second.

You still should. You’re

description helped me

choose you.

Be honest, was it

the tattoos?

If I say maybe would

you be mad at me?

Not at all.

Then, yes.

Plus your description

says you have long hair.

Who was the

runner-up?

Someone named Tae. But

I remembered a friend

visits him often.

So you found out

about us through

a friend?

Yes.

We can do either a

video call or messages.

Which do you prefer?

Video call.

If you’re up for it.

I’m OK with it

as long as you are.

I’ll call you in 5.

I’ll be here.

The rippling anticipation waved through you like electric currents rumbling your entire being right off its course. Though, BunnyBoy98 was a complete stranger you were minutes away from stripping yourself of every bit of shame and vulnerability right before him.

You couldn’t believe you actually went through with it.

And it all began about a week prior. When your friend had walked in on you in a . . less than ideal situation. You succumbed to the pleasure of your favorite toy, legs stretched wide and completely bare on your bottom half. Overcome in the feeling as you maintain focus on chasing your own orgasm. You remember hearing the hinges on the door creak but you weren’t expecting anyone so you remained painting a fervor image behind your eyelids. Envisioning slender fingers being pumped in and out of you repeatedly.

There were beads of sweat strolling down your body as you were in position; about to be catapulted into outer space. The atmosphere you set for yourself was serene and the only sounds that could be heard were your occasional whimpers and the music that played softly in the background. Everything drove you closer and closer to where you wanted to be.

Where you needed to be.

You were so close then a gasp inundated the air around you. A gasp that most certainly did not come from you.

“What the fuck?” You shot your eyes open and quickly saw your friend buried into a corner near the door. She faced the wall but you could only imagine the revolted look on her face, “can you lock the door next time?”

“Oh my,” you quickly pulled the covers over your sweaty body, “can you knock next time?”

“I did knock,” she yelled back, “but you were a little busy.”

“So you just barge in?”

“I thought you might have been dead in the toilet or something,” she shrugged and turned back around to find you sprawled in your bed, “oh, you’re done?”

“What do you think?”

“I mean don’t stop on my account. We all do it,” she sat across from your bed and began spinning around on your computer chair, “I personally like to meet Tae when I’m in the mood but you know this all works too.”

“Who’s Tae?” you questioned sitting up in the bed; wrapping your bed sheets around your figure tightly.

“He’s from this app where guys kinda help girls get off,” she said it so casually you almost didn’t fully decipher the words escaping her lips.

“There’s an app for that?”

“It’s the twenty-first century there’s literally an app for everything.”

You cleared your throat, “is it safe?”

“Are you interested?” she waggled her brows.

“No,” you scoffed, “did you need something?”

“I can’t come over just to spend time?” she shook her head, “I should’ve let you finish. Maybe you would have been in a better mood.”

“Fuck you,” you giggled.

“At least use this next time,” your phone dinged after she quickly sent you a text, “let me know how it goes.”

Her exit was barely audible. You were too preoccupied studying the link she sent for the app called ‘Eargasm An App for Women in Need.’

BunnyBoy98 is typing…..

I’m ready.

Can I call you?

Yeah.

You can call.

The ringtone echoing amongst your walls was taunting, and your nerves nearly fooled you into letting it ring. And while it took a lot of physical and mental strength to actually pick your hand up and move it towards the mouse pad you were finally able to press the green button lighting up your screen.

BunnyBoy98 sat up against a wall; glowing under blue LED lights. His black hair was long as detailed in his description and it sat right above his shoulders. Though it was hard to tell under the stark ambiance his eyes mimicked the tint of chocolate and his piercing stare was aimed at you on the other side of the screen. . Well, it was actually aimed at your dark screen. Though, it was selfish of you, as you hid cowardly behind your turned off camera you wished he would remove the black mask hiding the bottom half of his face.

“Hi,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you murmured, perhaps a bit scared that someone might hear this interaction play out although no one would. You made sure your door was locked this time and you didn’t even have a roommate. “Should I continue calling you BunnyBoy or is there something else you prefer to be called?”

“You can call me JK,” his voice was sultry, soothing, grave. Somehow a mixture of all three in one; it vibrated in your inner ear like some sort of an invasively soft tune, one you know you’d be replaying many times after tonight.

“Sorry about the dark screen,” you attempted to swallow down any ounce of nervousness, “I guess you can say I’m a bit nervous.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” his reassurance quickly eased your frazzled nerves, “though I’ll admit you did sound a bit more assertive over messages.”

“I tend to come off over-confident through texts,” you snickered, “it’s a natural flaw.”

“Confidence is sexy so I would say it’s a blessing.”

The word sexy sounded so enticing coming from his lips even as they were hidden behind that damned black cloth. You roamed through countless fantasies of the man sitting right before you, about the way he possibly looked without being covered; how his touch might feel on your scorching skin and the tone of his whispers closer in the proximity of your ear.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he voice was playful, but it was so hard to read his expression behind his covered face, “have you begun having fun without me?”

“No,” you mumbled, “I haven’t.”

“Good,” he said, “why don’t you tell me what you like.”

“Like during. .” you drifted off.

He nodded, tucking his hair behind his ear, “What else are we here for darling?”

“Yes. Of course,” you huffed, slapping your palm on your forehead undoubtedly astounded by your own stupidity, “Uh, I like. .” You gave it some thought but kept rounding the same corners leading to you cluelessness, “I’m not sure I know what I like.”

“Forgive me for being blunt but have you touched yourself recently?”

“That’s the exact reason why I ended up here.”

“You’re addicted to masturbating?” He whispered as if he was keeping some big secret.

“No!” you answered back quickly, “Not at all. I’ve just been a bit stressed lately and well. . something else happened.”

“What happened?”

“My friend kinda walked in on me,” you whispered.

“It happens to the best of us sadly,” he chuckled, a sound so beautiful and gentle it matched the soft tune of songbirds in the morning, “how about you begin by telling me about the last time you were aroused. Just walk me through whatever got you in the mood that day.”

You closed your eyes leaning your head against the headboard. Your thoughts traveled back to a couple of days prior when your body sunk into the mattress under the hex of your fingertips. You were stripped down bare but you recalled the way every inch of your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“I had just gotten home after my classes,” a small white lie was the price to pay to save any once of dignity you had left in the eyes of the stranger before you — in reality, that very day and every other day you’d found yourself under the amorous touches of your sinful fantasies whenever you saw him, the boy employed at the campus student center.

You didn’t know his name and in reality he only lived in your mind in small flashes. The first polaroid was composed of his cheeky smile framed by indents of his round cheeks. While other snap shots focused on the way he always wore in a half up half down style or a bun; others were centered around the numerous tattoos inked into his right arm, especially the snake sitting right above his wrist and the patchwork tattoos on the dorsal side of his hand.

“Were you thinking about someone?”

“Yes.”

“What were they doing?”

There was a rush of heat traveling through you as you recalled the way you dreamt up his touch against your body, the way his fingers left behind trails of goosebumps on your skin.

“First he began touching me softly,” It was like your body was on auto drive and before you knew it you set the laptop beside you on the bed and began getting comfortable on the bed.

“Was he touching you anywhere specific?”

You hummed in response, “he drew all kinds of figures into my inner thigh, kept inching closer and closer and then he would pull away abruptly.”

“Did you enjoy him pulling away?”

“Yes, it made me want it more.”

“Ok, I’m gonna ask you to do a couple of things. If you don’t want to do something just tell me. I’m here for your pleasure.”

You nodded, then realized he couldn’t see you, “Yea, that’s fine.”

A strain of the jitters ate away at your nerves and you weren’t sure if you’d ever come down from that rollercoaster of anxiety. You were sitting at the peak in a single-person cart waiting to be plummeted down the valley of the tracks leading you to the finale; the culmination of an enticing ride.

“Are you naked?”

“Somewhat.”

“Take it all off.”

Even in the stillness of darkness removing your bra and panties made you feel entirely vulnerable. You were technically alone but JK was right there just a couple of pixels away.

“Close your eyes, doll. I want you to begin touching yourself just wherever it feels good,” he instructed and you weren’t sure if it was your mind playing tricks on you but you could’ve sworn his voice became more bass, “start high and slowly make your way down to your breasts. When you’re there let me know.”

His words were tainted with sin meanwhile he still sat back nonchalantly. You'd imagined he was satisfied in the way your soft whimpers overtook the air as you began pinching your perked nipples but you couldn’t tell for sure not while he still wore his mask.

“I’m assuming you’ve made it.” he chuckled.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“You’re not very good at following instructions. Are you, doll?” he rolled up the sleeves of his crewneck, finally exposing the infamous tattoos he detailed in his description. They were like pieces of artwork adorning his entire arm, not a single spot was left visible—and as much as you tried to get a better look at them for some reason you found it impossible to focus on just one.

“Sorry,” you muttered once again, “I was caught up in the moment I guess.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he offered, “but I need you to be vocal since I can’t exactly see you.”

“I’ll be more vocal. I promise,” you said, still toying with your nipples in between your fingers, “right now my hands are still at my tits.”

“Are you bored of that yet, doll?” the onset of his tumultuous utter; it was thunderous, like music for the soul, “you wanna aim lower?”

“Yes.”

“With the tips of your fingers I want you to move down your cleavage,” he said, “and stop right at your pelvis.”

Quickly, it felt like the evening had rushed by and the sun had been relocated right beside your bed. Though you complied with his command any form of coherent words became jammed in your throat incapable of rolling off your tongue.

The way your fingers slid past your folds earned a string of whimpers from your lips earning a satisfied titter from JK on the other side of the screen.

“Nice and slow, doll,” JK said, “be gentle but I want you to apply a bit of pressure every time your fingers meet your clit.”

JK’s voice was no longer muffled from the laptop’s static microphone. Instead in this version of your altered reality he was laying right beside you on your bed, and his fingers substituted yours against your cunt. His touch contained something yours simply did not possess, composed of a sort of spell that left you babbling moans. And as his fingers traced whichever incoherence they wanted into your clit you felt closer to your pinnacle.

“Fuck,” he stuttered, “I love the way you say my name.”

The bubbling daringness dazed with pleasure drove you to chant his name over and over in between your pants and obscenities. “You have no idea the things I would do for you to fuck me right now,” It was your best attempt at trying to break past his professional shell — His head fell back against the wall as his adam’s apple bobbed up and up, his eyes were shut tightly and his hands fidgeted with something off frame.

“You have no idea how much I’d love to fuck you but this is a contactless doll,” his breathing became uneven, “I’m afraid we could never meet. You could never know who I am and I could never know who you are.”

“N-never say never,” the contract enforced by the site was clear and simple, both parties must grant their consent to the meeting online without disclosing their identities. For safety measures you understood the implications of the rules applied but what of it when you genuinely just wanted to meet the dulcet stranger and ride along him for the wildest time of your life.

“Just focus on the feeling,” his voice was rugged; raspy as a result of the groans he sang into the air, “Focus on that shiver taking your back hostage and that very knot tightening in your core. I want you to only let your thoughts be consumed by that very feeling.”

You sat up using your elbow for support, still thriving to maintain the mental image of having JK near in curated colors. Again, you were in the presence of the man dipping the mattress beside you as he laid down with eyes to scorching their umber tone surrounding you in warmth.

“Now, finger yourself.”

The squelching sound of your finger pushing past your entrance had JK sitting up straight like he was intrigued by your facile compliance but you thought it was obvious that by now there was very little you wouldn��t do as long as it came from him.

“I wish I could see you doll,” he confessed, “I bet you look heavenly with your fingers inside of you.”

“C-contactless r-remember,” The motion living up to your satisfaction was hastened —you became divulged in the feeling of your walls on your fingers. You felt soft, warm, tight. All of the sensations combined to create a feeling so addicting your fingers developed a mind of their own as you drove themselves in and out of you with ease.

“Right. .”

“Fuck, this f-feels,” you swallowed to ease the desert developing in the back of your throat, “it feels s-so fucking good.”

“If I were there,” he mumbled, barely audible but your ears still perked up at the lulls of his voice, “First, I would serenade every inch of your skin. Your body would be the portrait I’d paint with my lips.”

“Mhm. .”

“I would cherish your body so well. Eat you out until your legs shake and fuck you until you’re a candid mess.”

“O-oh, fuck! JK don’t stop.”

“I would fuck you so well, doll.”

“I-I’m so close,” your arm became numbed yet, you kept fucking yourself with your fingers still succumbing to the fantasy of having JK in replacement of your own hand.

The temperature in your room draws beads of sweat on your body and the more you strive to reach your high the more scorching the temperature becomes. The creaking of your bed accentuated the speed of your movements, it was like a song featuring your constant moans.

“Until you’re babbling nonsense, and your headboard is marking up the wall and the neighbors finally know my name.”

JK’s words were laced with a delectable nectar, so sweet, a once off taste wasn’t enough and as you pleaded for more and he complied, continuing to fill your ears with sinful promises you crashed hard. Coming in spurts of white coating your fingers.

“I have a surprise for you,” you panted in between almost every word, “you ready?”

He nodded.

Call it post orgasm tipsiness but after sitting up a bit and adjusting the laptop to leave anything that wasn’t your mouth out of frame you turned on your camera for the very first time that night, pushing your glistening fingers which once invaded your walls past your swollen lips.

His hands rose to his hair and he slithered his fingers through it lightly before gripping his roots into his fists looking a fair amount aroused and frustrated. The tattoos you desperately wanted a peek of were finally on full display. After turning off your camera once again and JK began uttering praises your way, you began scanning the ink on his arm from his forearm up slowly. The artwork adorned his skin beautifully.

As you neared his wrists you noticed a very similar serpentine snake—one who you have stared at too often.

“Typically, things here are a bit different,” you finally registered his voice, “you would turn on your camera and I would provide more detailed assistance but I hope you still had a good time. I did.”

“Yeah,” your mind was in outer space, “I had a really good time.”

“Don’t shy away from visiting me again, OK?”

“Yeah,” you said, “bye, JK.”

Once the camera was off and you shut your laptop tightly, coming to the realization.

JK was him.

The boy, your boy from the student center.

an: i was bored and im so sorry lol

reblogs, likes, comments, replies are always appreciated 🫶🏽

#bts #bts smut #bts imagines #bts reactions #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #very brief mention of tae #jungkook drabble

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hwamphwamp · 25 days ago

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i wished for you // choi jongho

a/n: meant to write a little something for Jongho's birthday and wouldn't you know it, I forgot every time I thought about it. I wrote this sappy shit while taking one of the longest baths of my life today so enjoy!

genre: fluff

word count: 848

warnings: none really outside of the mention of alcohol/being drunk? a little lovesick bullshit here?? a little self-indulgent fluff there???

———————————————————————————

It wasn’t uncommon for you to return home from work to find a voicemail from Jongho waiting for you. In fact, the two of you had been engaged in a playful game of voicemail tag for the past week and a half, navigating the challenges of time differences and your hectic schedules. Yet, even though you would have preferred to hear his voice directly, there was something comforting about receiving those little snippets of him—like a sweet surprise at the end of a long, dreary day.

Most of his voicemails were usually straightforward—brief updates about his day, questions about yours, the usual exchanges that kept you connected across the miles. But tonight’s voicemail was much different.

“Ok, so I know we just got to the point of saying ‘I love you’ recently,” he began, a playful tone to his voice as though he was already aware of how this might sound. "So I hope this doesn’t freak you out, but I’m a weeeee bit drunk." You could picture him grinning sheepishly, the way he always did when he was nervous or about to say something he thought might make you laugh. He continued, “And when the guys had me blow out the candles on my cake tonight, I wished for you."

You paused when you heard those words. "I wished for you." It sounded so simple, but it carried a weight you weren’t expecting. He already had you—what more could he wish for? The thought lingered for a moment before he quickly clarified, his tone a little softer now, a touch more serious.

"Not like... I didn't actually wish FOR you. I already have you, duh." You couldn’t help but smile at that, imagining the playful roll of his eyes as he said it. "But I wished for you to always be with me, which is so stupid because I know you could never just drop everything and run around the world with me." His voice dipped slightly, as if he was wrestling with the reality of the situation, acknowledging how far-fetched his wish really was. And yet, there was something so genuine about the way he said it, something so heartfelt that it made your chest tighten.

He paused for a moment, as though he was trying to gather his thoughts or maybe second-guessing whether he should keep going, but then he pushed on. “But still, I wished that by some miracle we could just be alone together for the rest of our lives.”

That’s when the weight of his words really sank in. He wasn’t just talking about wanting you by his side during the fun, easy moments. He was talking about the kind of deep, unwavering connection where nothing—no job, no obligation, no distance—could ever come between you. It was the kind of wish you made when you’re so completely in love with someone that you can’t imagine a life without them.

In his slightly tipsy, vulnerable state, he was letting you in on something raw and real: the dream of having you all to himself, of being able to live in a world where it was just the two of you, free from the chaos of everyday life. It was the kind of wish that, while impossible, was filled with so much love and longing that it made your heart ache a little. He knew it wasn’t realistic—he even said so—but that didn’t stop him from wishing for it anyway. There was something achingly romantic about that.

Then came the part that made you smile the most: “Did that make sense?” You could practically hear him blushing on the other end of the line, embarrassed by how open he had just been, how he had let his guard down completely. And before you could even process everything he’d said, he wrapped it up with a quick, “It’s ok, love you, goodnight,” like he needed to get the last few words out before his courage faded.

That voicemail—just a simple, drunken message—felt like you were getting to peek through a window that lead straight to his heart. It wasn’t just about the words “I love you” that you’d both recently started saying; it was about the kind of love that made him wish, without hesitation, that you could always be together. His wish wasn’t about material things or fleeting moments. It was about living a life where it was just the two of you, lost in your own little world.

Sure, he laughed it off a bit, tried to make it seem like it was no big deal, but you knew better. There was something so sincere, so deeply affectionate in his words that you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell as you listened. It wasn’t just the alcohol talking—this was him, unfiltered, admitting that he couldn’t imagine his life without you in it, and wishing that somehow, you’d never have to be apart.

No matter what, you were determined to make his birthday wish a reality. After all, it was your wish too, and you’d tell him that as soon as his hangover subsided the next day.

#happy belated birthday to my favorite silly lil dude #wish he wasn’t a figment of my imagination #jongho #choi jongho #ateez #ateez jongho #atz #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #atz fanfiction #atz fanfic #ateez x reader

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johnwickb1tsch · 6 months ago

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 34 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

In the giant walk-in closet John enlists your help in putting on a sharp black suit.You are supposed to be helping him with his buttons, but you just can’t stop kissing him while he stands before you like this, his tailored pants undone, his shirttails loose. '

His chest is a constellation of bruises, and you can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips to them. “Baby…” he sighs, his head tilted back for your ministrations, his long fingers sliding into your hair. “It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m used to this.”

Somehow, he knows there are tears in your eyes. He always knows. And even though you know what he says is technically true– you've seen his scars– it does not soothe you.

“I just…don’t want you to be hurt anymore,” you say, perhaps stupidly. Yet the sentiment seems to move him, as he pulls you close with arms around your back.

“I feel pretty good, actually,” he says, a warmth in his eyes that quickens your heart.

With your hands on his bare chest, you run your fingers over a nasty purpling bruise just below his collarbone. “I can’t fathom how that’s possible.”

Yet when he turns your face up to his with gentle fingers, the unsaid truth rings in the air between you. You stayed. It seems there are things he’s not willing to say aloud yet either. That’s fine. More than understandable. There is more important business you need to attend anyway…like staying alive.

So when John begins to back you up with hands on your waist, pressing you into the wall, you aren’t proud of the ridiculous little sound that escapes you. It’s only been a week. You should not need him this much.

But, you do.

“John…” you scold, sounding utterly convincing as your eyes flutter closed, his lips on your neck. “You’re going to tear your stitches.”

“Then you’d better be gentle with me.” You can hear the smile in his words.

“I thought you said we’re in a hurry…” you try again, even breathier than before. You’re trying to be gentle, but your hands wander on their own, around the gap in his waistband, your fingertips dipping in to find the firm curve of the top of his buttocks.

He huffs with laughter against your skin, pressing you into the wall with his solid weight, the bulge of his manhood deliciously hard against you. “I’m not going to last long,” he admits, and you realize he is laughing at himself. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

I was right here.

You manage to restrain yourself from saying it, because you sense a sort of truce has arisen between the two of you that you do not want to shatter again. You realize that you’re not proud of how desperately you want to go back to the way they were before, when things were good between you. You want morning coffee, and dinners you cook together, and lovemaking on the couch in between reading a book. You just…want the locks on the doors open, is all.

Is it really such an ask?

And maybe…no one breaking into the house trying to kill you both. That would be nice.

You know there’s no dissuading him, when he’s in this mood. And…you don’t want him to stop, if you’re being completely honest. You’d be a liar, if you said the sight of him looking at you like this, expectant, vulnerable, his eyes filled with longing, after being without him for what ridiculously felt like an eternity, didn’t make your pussy pulse and ache, your clit singing to life.

You had since changed from your bloodied silk pajamas into a simple t-shirt and panties, unsure of what you were wearing for this mysterious location John intended to go. His fingertips tracing the outside of your thigh, up to the elastic over your hip, makes your flesh quiver.

Those long, questing fingers push aside the thin barrier of fabric between your legs, finding you soaking wet for him already. It wins you a moan from deep in his throat; a sound that lifts every little hair on your body. You clench around his fingers, already on the edge of orgasm, your need for him is so sharp, so aching.

“You missed me?”

The answer seems so obvious, but the fragility in his tone ties up your heartstrings. No matter what he saw or heard in your week apart on his camera in the bedroom, he needs to hear it from you.

“So much,” you admit, throwing your self-respect out the window, along with your sanity.

“Mmm.” His forehead presses to yours, and there are questions you know you should ask him. Important ones. But your brain has stopped functioning, and he will not let you get away, with two fingers buried in your cunt and his thumb upon your sensitive clit, moving slowly back and forth.

“Wait,” you keen, clenching upon those beautiful big fingers, but he only shakes his head, sucking delicately at the sensitive skin behind your ear.

This was the last thing he needed to be doing. You needed to be taking care of him. But here he was, stubborn as ever, making you see stars. “Let me have it, y/n. Need to feel you cum for me.” He pins you with his penetrating dark eyes locked with yours, just as much as his large body caging you in and his hand upon you. His thumb presses down on your button, firm, knowing. Because you’re his, a little voice inside your head sings out, and the thought as much as his touch sends you careening over the edge, a ragged sound torn from your throat, your head rocking back into the wall. The crackling fury of the pleasure lifts you to your tiptoes, and he keeps touching you until you absolutely writhe with overstimulation, tugging at his wrist completely ineffectually.

You feel his satisfied smile against your cheek, as the world returns into focus, and you can hear again past your heartbeat and your labored breathing. When at last you’re able to open your eyes you find him looking at you with that black-diamond glitter in his eyes, and a tenderness that nearly breaks you all over again.

With your hand splayed on his chest you push gently. “Sit down,” you tell him, and he lifts one of those dark eyebrows at you.

Even bruised and battered, a cut on his cheek and the bridge of his nose and a scrape on his chin, he’s so handsome it hurts.

Once upon a time, he might have laughed at your command and continued to do exactly what he pleased with you. But tonight, maybe for the first time since you’ve met him, he actually does as he’s told, lowering himself to the padded bench in the center of the closet. It’s meant as a seat for putting on one’s shoes…but that’s not what you intend to do with it by half.

You brush his hair back gently, tracing the shell of his ear. His eyes slide closed, leaning into your touch, and there’s nothing you want more in that moment, than to make all his hurt go away. “Thank you,” you whisper.

His eyes crack open minutely for you. “For what?” It’s as though he really can’t fathom what you mean.

“For saving us.”

His eyes slide closed again, as though against some thought he cannot bear. “I was so afraid…” he admits. “That they would make their way up here to you.”

“But they didn’t,” you assure him, still sliding your fingers through his silky hair. “They didn’t stand a chance.”

He gives that bitter huff of laughter that makes him wince. “The last one might have…if not for you.”

“Mmm hmm.” You really don’t take killing a man so casually–but you are still numb, and John is the focus of your universe. Later it will all come crashing in. “See what a good team we make?” you ask, pulling your t-shirt over your head. He is eye-level with your bosom–he buries his face in your cleavage, resting his cheek in the mounded flesh of your breasts. The gesture seems more in the pursuit of comfort, than sex.

“Are you…suggesting we do things like this more often?” he quips into your cleavage.

“Just that you don’t lock me away again.” You realize how utterly batfuck insane this conversation would sound to an outsider. Maybe you really have lived in your own little world with John for too long, but it doesn’t matter to you. All that matters is the two of you, now, and you sense that maybe, just maybe on the horizon lays a glimpse of a possibility that maybe this thing between you could still arrive at a place where you could both be happy.

“What a forward suggestion,” he deadpans. It takes you a moment to realize that he is, in fact, teasing you, in a way that suggests he knows that his behavior was not exactly kosher. He sighs, kissing the soft flesh of the top of your breast. Even after the bone-melting orgasm he just gave you, it makes a shiver roll down your spine. “I needed to think.”

Your grip in his hair tightens as you remember the absolute agony you’d put yourself through, locked away for the week that felt infinite in its agony. You’re not sure what to say to that, that won’t immediately start a fight.

Maybe he senses the spike in your pulse against his ear, because his hands glide up the curve of your back soothingly.

“And then…” he goes on. “I was…working on something. For you.”

This raises your eyebrows, and again you have to bite your tongue. Because you didn’t want more gifts, or surprises. All you’d wanted was him.

You turn his face up to yours, catching his lips in a kiss that curls your bare toes. It wins you a moan from deep in his throat; a sound that lifts every little hair on your body.

“John…” Your voice is hushed, hoarse, caught in your throat. “I would have preferred to just have you.”

He closes his eyes to that, as though you’ve bestowed some healing balm.

“You’ve got me, baby. I’m sorry.” You feel like he means…for so much more than just your most recent stint in solitary. Your lip quivers, and now you are the one pressing your forehead to his, as though you can transfer your feelings to him through this touch. “I’m sorry you had to do…what you had to do. I never wanted to expose you to this part of my world. I thought I could make us a safe little oasis here…fucking christ was I wrong.”

“It’s going to be ok.”

Mostly, you even believe it.

He cranes his gaze up to you, and you see the doubt in his eyes. It breaks your heart all over again.

“You sound so certain.”

“I believe in you, John.”

Again, his lids slide closed, as though he just can’t absorb what you’ve said with eyes wide open. This man has been through Hell and back, and in this moment a ringing clarity settles over you. You resolve to do your best to carry him through this crisis, as best as you can. After you make it through–you’ll take care of yourself. You make yourself this promise–or tell yourself this lie–so that you can do what you need to do to help him survive. What will come after…you’ll worry about it when you get there.

If you get there.

You start by sliding to your knees, and expressing your appreciation with your eager mouth on his torso, making your way to his beautiful cock. For once he lets you have your way with him, leaning back and enjoying your ministrations without bossing you once, moaning deliciously as you free him into your hand, and take his luscious tip into your mouth. His grasping hand in your hair sends thrills down your spine, a heady mix of triumph and adoration spreading like a warm drug through your veins, and you take him as far as you can into your mouth.

He was right–he doesn’t last long at all.

***

You finally get around to helping John dress in a very sharp black suit, buttoning his shirt, threading his belt about his trim waist, and helping him affix various holsters for guns, ammo clips, and knives. It’s still distracting, having his body under your hands, even in the afterglow of your life-affirming midnight delight. You keep kissing him between affixing his buttons, and he growls against your mouth in a way that raises every hair on your body, in the best way this time. “If we weren’t in such a hurry…” he tells you with that deliciously dangerous glint in his eye.

“Behave,” you tell him, smoothing his lapels. You step back to take in the end result, sighing. “God, you look good.”

He lifts a cut-bisected eyebrow to that, amused. “I don’t look like a beat up old man?”

This again. You are going to lock that joke up in a box and keep it there. You’d only ever meant to tease him, not hurt him.

“No. You look like a dark dream, and I want to fuck you silly all over again but we don’t have time. What the hell should I wear?”

He laughs at your obvious frustration, winces because it hurts him, and kisses you with toe-curling sweetness before helping you pick out an appropriate outfit for your destination. Dark pants, semi-sensible pumps, and a kevlar vest underneath your blouse.

You are both dressed to the nines.

You pack up the Rover with cases of your things. On your part, clothes so nice you never had occasion to actually wear them in the house. On John’s part, his bags are filled with as many guns as they are garments. Dog spreads out across the back seat like this is old hat, going on an adventure again.

It is with a surprising sadness that you pull out of the garage of the cabin manse in the Rover, watching it diminish in your rearview. That house has been your prison for months, and yet…there were so many good moments there too. You find you wouldn’t mind coming back, as long as the doors are not locked to you.

You drive on the highway through the wee hours, until you reach the bridge, and the lights of what all you small town yokels call The Big City greet you. Towers of glittering lights, big water–and drivers who seem like they are bent on murder just as intently as reaching their destination. It’s easier somehow, to drive defensively behind the wheel of the Range Rover, rather than the few times you’ve done it in your tiny Toyota SUV.

You realize with some amusement that you don’t even know where your car is at the moment. It doesn’t really matter.

You follow John’s directions through Manhattan, until you arrive at a unique sliver of a building that looks like new construction made to look old. You pull up for the valet, and follow John’s instructions of immediately standing on the first step of The Continental hotel. It’s like the safe base in a game of tag from hell, he’d told you.

You want to go to the passenger side to help John. However, he stands tall, moving better than he had at the house, barely showing sign of injury. You’re impressed until you see the tightness of pain at the corners of his eyes, then you realize he’s putting up a hell of a front.

He’d warned you to show no weakness here.

Don’t smile at anyone, or for God’s sakes I’ll have to fight off the whole fucking hotel.

You think he was joking, but you take playing it cool seriously. In the Big Apple, you know everyone wants a bite out of you. You’ve got to be ready to bite back.

John lets the red-suited and copiously tattooed bell boys get your bags, which tells you loads about how he’s really feeling. “Mr. Wick?” one of them dares address him. “We’d heard…you were dead?”

John just looks at the kid, not really smiling, but not brushing him off either. “Guess not,” he finally answers, and the boys all share a grin.

“Welcome back.”

John doesn’t exactly groan, but you read the weariness in his expression all too well.

“Thanks.”

John offers you his arm, and together you stride through the doors, Dog at your heels, feeling as though you are stepping through a time portal back into his old life.

At the front desk it feels like he’s speaking in code, so cordial and formulated it’s almost painful. After securing your room he asks, “Is the manager in?”

“He’s expecting you for breakfast on the rooftop, Mr. Wick.”

All you really want is to sleep, but you sense this too is part of some crucial ritual.

One of the bellboys takes your bags up to your room.

John inclines his head to you to follow him. You walk at his side, trying not to gawk like a fucking tourist at the opulent Art Deco lobby, or the people who bustle through this waystation for the Underworld, even at this hour of the early morn.

The people are interesting, to say the least. Some dressed as though ready for a board meeting, excluding their neck tattoos, and some as though ready for a posh punk concert.

You feel the eyes upon you, and you know it has more to do with the legend of the man who you are with, more than yourself.

“Winston really outdid himself with the rebuild,” comments John once you are headed up in the elevator. He’d told you about how during their war with the High Table the original New York Continental had been destroyed.

“Does it stand up to the old one?”

John sighs. “I think my sentimentality prevents me from giving that an honest answer. And…I’d hoped I’d never have to come back here.”

You nod, looking around. Even the doors have ornate Deco metalwork caging you in. “It all looks pretty fucking rad to me,” you say under your breath, pulling a small smile from the corner of John’s mouth.

“I’ll be sure to tell Winston you said that.”

“Oh God.”

He laughs a little, and winces. Immediately you feel guilty. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he sighs, and as the door opens he leads you with a hand on the small of your back out onto the rooftop terrace of the New York Continental. Dawn is just breaking over the rooftops of Manhattan–the view from so high is breathtaking.

Winston Scott is every bit the dapper gentleman you expected, after hearing John speak of him so many times.

“Jonathan,” greets the manager with a handshake and a smile that seems to hold genuine warmth. “Always a pleasure, though I regret the circumstances.”

“Same,” answers Wick.

“And who do you have here?”

“Winston, this is y/n. She’s my…” You turn your eyes up at John, curious just how he will choose to describe you. Girlfriend seems entirely too trite. Captive? Lover? John actually flashes a sheepish smile that lasts precisely half a second. “This is the light of my life.”

The old man raises his eyebrows in a gesture of my my. You are surprised when Winston kisses your hand with old world grace, rather than shakes it. You hope it doesn’t show. “A pleasure, Miss y/n.”

“Likewise, Mr. Scott.”

“Please, call me Winston. So, Jonathan. Just what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

John groans, and slowly lowers himself into a chair. You do the same, and the three of you hash out what happened, and how to go forward, over a delectable breakfast of crepes, fresh fruit, and good coffee. You feed Dog bites of bacon under the table, his block of a head resting on your thigh while you listen to these old veterans of the Underworld formulate a plan.

You take some small comfort in the fact that Winston sounds so sure of himself. He seems to know a little bit about everything there is to know, and no tidbit of gossip surprises him. You can tell that John values his guidance, the older man speaking to John almost like a father.

Just maybe the two of you will make it out of this alive after all.

#john wick #john wick x you #john wick fic #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves #john wick x reader #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine #yandere

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ale-wosofan · 8 months ago

Note

17 with cloé lacasse

puppy

Cloé Lacasse x R

R begs Cloé for a puppy but she refuses. R brings one home anyways.

warnings: none!

a/n: I think this story is the one I’ve enjoyed writing the most so far. Please, send more of this🥺 Hope everyone likes it as much as I do!

-----

You’ve screwed up, you’re very much aware of it. But you couldn’t help yourself. It was so simple, so easy to do.

And Cloé is going to break up with you when she finds out. Maybe breaking up with you is an exaggeration, but she will be mad, really mad. It’s not like it was completely your fault, you were persuaded into doing it, tricked by pleading eyes. You’ve also been feeling lonely lately, with your girlfriend constantly busy with all the games and training, so you kind of knew something like this would happen eventually.

It gets worse when she’s away for international break, an ocean from you, and you have no one to keep you company. So, really, this happening makes perfect sense.

“My girlfriend is going to kill me, did you know that?” you ask the golden retriever puppy sitting in the passenger seat “Maybe you and I should move to Alaska, that way she can’t find us.”

He looks at you and tilts his head, letting out a soft bark in response.

Shaking your head, you recall the conversation the two of you had a couple weeks ago.

-----

“Cloé...” you start.

“No. Whatever it is, no”

You huff in annoyance “I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“Yeah, honey, but I know that face and you’re about to ask for something that you know I won’t like.”

Climbing in her lap, you give your girlfriend a sheepish smile.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”

“Sure,” she says rolling her eyes.

Taking Cloé’s hands and placing them on your waist, you tilt her head a little bit and start leaving kisses around her face.

“I’ve been thinking. You know how I used to have a dog when I was a kid?” your continue trailing kisses down her neck and hear your girlfriend hum when you hit a particularly sensitive spot “Well, I thought we could adopt a puppy.”

“What?” Cloé asks pushing you off herself “Absolutely not. Nope. Not happening.”

“But, love-” you whine.

“No buts.”

“Baby, please,” you try again, pouting “Just hear me out.”

“Oh, I have heard you loud and clear” she answers leaving a kiss on your forehead “And we’re not getting a dog.”

Cloé gets up from the couch and walk into the kitchen, you quick to follow after her with the intention of continuing your conversation.

“Why not?”

“A dog takes a lot of responsibility. You have to feed it, take it out on a walk a few times a day, you also need to train it. And don’t even get me started on vaccines and the vet,” she lists “It’s just a lot, and you know it.”

You frown “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of a dog.”

“You can barely take care of yourself” you open your mouth to protest –even though you know she’s right– but your girlfriend stops you “Honey, we’re not getting a dog and that’s it. And I don’t want to have this conversation again, so don’t even try.”

Cloé walks up to you and pecks your lips multiple times, trying to kiss your pout away. It works and, in just a few minutes, you’re smiling again.

-----

Opening the door to your apartment, you beg the universe that your girlfriend hasn’t arrived home just yet. However, never being a lucky one, you hear rustling and soft footsteps walking towards the entrance.

“Hi, baby,” Cloé greets you with a smile once she’s in front of you.

“Hi.”

Your girlfriend frowns a little bit when you make no move to kiss or hug her.

“What do you have there?” she asks pointing behind your back, where the puppy you have just adopted is starting to get restless in your arms.

“Okay, don’t get mad please,” you beg.

Cloé looks at you suspiciously “Honey, what did you do?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad.”

“I’m not promising you that,” your girlfriend scoffs “You look extremely guilty, so I don’t trust you right now, not a little bit.”

You open your mouth to answer, but you’re quickly interrupted by the sound of a bark behind your back, just where your hands are hidden.

Cloé’s jaw drops in shock “You did not!”

“Surprise?” you ask putting the puppy right in from of her face.

He squirms a little bit in your hands and licks you girlfriend right in the nose.

“Honey! We said no dogs!”

“No,” you resort placing the puppy in her arms and pointing at her “You said no dogs, I didn’t say anything. You didn’t even let me say anything!”

“Are you serious right now?” she asks frowning at you, but you see her beginning to pet the puppy.

Taking the dog from her, you place him in the floor in front of you.

“Come on, you can explore the house now. And you,” you say to your girlfriend “are going to listen to me before you say anything else. A co-worker of mine has a dog and she just had puppies. He needed to find people who would adopt them, and decided to show us some pictures to see if anyone would be interested. And I really wanted to say ‘no’ but, love, I work from home most days and I spend the mornings alone; whenever you leave for international break I stay here all by myself. It gets lonely, and I just wanted someone to keep me company. But if you really don’t want the puppy I’ll make sure to find him a home.”

Your girlfriend lets out a sigh.

“I love you, you know that?”

“I mean, considering you tell me all the time, I’d say I do.”

“Smartass” she mumbles “Well, I love you. I love that stupid big heart of yours and how you have a smile that could convince me to do basically anything.”

“Does that mean we can keep it?” you ask looking at her excitedly.

Cloé rolls her eyes “Yes. But, you have to promise to take good care of him and train him. I don’t want him causing any trouble.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #woso #woso blurbs #woso couples #woso fluff #cloe lacasse #cloe lacasse x reader #cloe lacasse fluff #arsenal women #arsenal women x reader #arsenal x reader

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fizzyapplecandy · 2 months ago

Text

The eyes are the mirror of the soul

Based on your votes, this is the first story! The other two will come along soon.

Enjoy X

Ateez San X Fem Reader

Police detective San

Genre: Angst, Horror, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to Lovers, Mature scenes and language

Words: 7.8k

You thought breaking up with your boyfriend would be simple. After six months together, four of them showed you how much of a psychopath a person can be. However, when you saw on the news that several women died with features similar to yours, you assumed it was a coincidence. When the first letter arrived in the mail, you knew you were screwed. The cops eventually became involved with your life. One detective, Choi San, was assigned to be your personal bodyguard. He was confident you were safe, but the darkest evil always finds its way into someone's home.

"I've told you about a thousand times, stop calling me! I don't know how you manage to reach my number over and over! Just stop it!"

I hung up the phone, again, and rubbed my tired eyes. It was 2 a.m. and I was severely stressed. My ex, Jaehyun, has been calling me for about a month now, trying to get back together with me. Never in a million years did I think we would end up in this position. It was almost perfect for about two months. We met randomly in a cafe when I spilled my drink on his shirt. After apologizing profusely, he told me I could make it up to him with a date, and I did just that.

We had it good, seeing each other almost every day, texting until the sun came up, going around and exploring various places... It all came to an end when he started changing. It was like he became a completely different person. There were times when I feared he would become violent, but luckily he managed to bang up almost every surface of mine and his apartment, instead of my face.

After I gently broke up with him, he seemed fine. How wrong of me to assume something like that. I haven't had a good night's rest in a while, and it was messing with my head all the time. I work as an assistant in a private language school, so my boss and the other teachers are a bit lenient with me. I'm lucky to have support in that area, otherwise I would be jobless as well. In all of my 27 years on this planet, I've never felt this afraid.

I became paranoid after the break up. I kept seeing shadows out of my second story window, but I blamed the lack of sleep for that. The misplaced items in my flat were also blamed on that, too.

I poured myself a glass of wine and sat on my couch. The TV was on, playing some kind of sitcom. I couldn't bring myself to laugh, even when I found the jokes funny. It became too depressing so I switched around the channels.

"...this is the second victim found in a similar position as the first one a week prior. It appears it was a woman in her late twenties, with her long hair cut short, eyes gouged out. The missing hair and eyeballs are yet to be found..."

Now that was creepy. What kind of freak takes someone's eyes out? I remember Jaehyun saying the eyes are mirrors to one's soul, and mine were his favorite ones. My eye colour changes in the sun, so he loved taking pictures of my eyes when we were outside. Funny how that came to me while listening to this tragedy.

I twirled around a strand of my hair. Jaehyun always told me I should get a haircut, to make myself more mature. I loved my luscious locks, I've taken good care of them over the years.

I shook my head. Why was I thinking about this now? Maybe it was the wine affecting me. I should really stop drinking so late. With another long sign I grabbed the remote to turn the TV off when an image flashed on the screen. It was a picture of the latest victim, followed by the previous one.

My breath got caught in my throat.

The two pictured were side by side, and if I turned my head to the left I would see my graduation picture framed by the TV.

The resemblance between the three of us was astonishing. But that was only a coincidence, right? There is no way...

I shook my head and plugged the TV out of the wall. I wasn't taking any risks now. I speed-walked to my bedroom and shut the door, locking it as well.

There goes another sleepless night for me.

"Good morning Mrs Jung, how are you today?"

"Oh, good morning dear! You know me, my old bones are giving me a hard time."

I smiled at my elderly neighbour. Mrs Jung was widowed last May, but she's been a fighter ever since. I love meeting her in the morning when I pick up my mail from downstairs.

She waved at me and went out, probably to buy some more cat food for Simon.

I looked through my mail as I went up the stairs and noticed the usual. Phone bill, electricity bill, magazine subscription... I paused on the steps when I reached a black envelope. It was smooth, almost like it was made of suede. What in the world?

I ran to my apartment and threw the other bills on the counter. I ripped the top of the envelope and found a note inside.

My blood ran cold as I read the familiar handwriting.

"Dear, beloved, worshipped Y/N,

Long time no see baby! I've been missing you this whole time! But, you see, I've found a way to look into your gorgeous eyes again. It may be unconventional, but it works. Those two ladies have nothing on you though. I want you to know that.

Y/N, you're the one baby. And I believe you are going to do the right thing and submit yourself to me soon, unless you want more innocent girls to go missing.

I don't want to bore you with details, this is not why I'm writing to you.

You look amazing baby, even better than before. The view from your window is gorgeous.

You'll find a way to contact me, right? You'll make this work? You better do Y/N. If you know what's right for this world.

Yours truly, J. "

Oh my God. Oh my God!

My hands started shaking like crazy and I dropped the letter on the counter. I think I was about to pass out before I hit the wall behind me. I slowly slid down to the cold kitchen floor and covered my ears. This has been my panic response since I was a child. I tried to tune out everything to keep myself calm, but I couldn't.

This lunatic was going around murdering girls that reminded him of me? What on Earth was I supposed to do now?

I felt myself spiraling even more. There were telltale signs of a panic attack coming in. I haven't had one of those for months. I knew I had to stop it before it got even worse, so I crawled towards the freezer and got out an ice pack. The shock of the cold pack on my legs and arms brought me back to reality. It was enough for me to grab my phone and dial the police.

"Seoul Police Station, how can I help you?"

"I need to report a potential murderer."

"So, miss Y/N, this will be the agenda from now on. You will be escorted at all times, knowing the killer is infatuated with you we believe he will try to strike you down sooner rather than later. Our detectives are working on locating him, but in the meantime your life will stay the same as always. He can't notice something is off about you."

I nodded and waited for him to continue.

"It will be suspicious to have our detective in uniform trailing behind you everyday, so we have to make it look like you two know each other on a more personal level. Mr Choi is the best detective we have in our station, and he has gladly accepted the job."

I was like a broken doll at this point, only nodding and staring straight ahead.

For the past two days since my phone call, I've been in and out of the station. We've established that the letter was sent by Jaehyun, since he wasn't careful about leaving his fingerprints. He wanted everybody to know it was him. He was connected to the killings and there was a warrant for his arrest. The media wasn't notified yet, because my life would be endangered even more if they put me in the spotlight.

I was nervous about meeting this detective, who was going to become my live-in boyfriend. Officer Jung saw how nervous I was so he told me to wait in the room. He was going out to get my new boyfriend.

After a while, the door to Mr Jung's office opened. I expected him to walk in as well, but when I turned around my mouth almost hit the floor.

He was beyond gorgeous.

The man lifted his hand in a wave and smiled.

"Hi there. Y/N, right? My name is Choi San. I'm your new bodyguard of sorts."

I slowly stood up and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Yeah... I'm Y/N. My ex is the psycho killer. Sorry, that was a really bad introduction."

San chuckled and closed the door.

"I know this isn't very convenient for you, and it will probably be messy, but it's for your own good. I will try to be the best fake boyfriend I can. I'm not messy, I clean up after myself and I make a killer lasagna. So, all in all, I think we'll do just fine."

I smiled lightly and nodded.

"I guess so. I'm sorry about all of this... I kind of feel it's my fault. If I hadn't broken up with him then maybe he wouldn't have done all of this."

San stepped closer to me and shook his head.

"Hey now, stop that. You aren't responsible for someone's bad decisions. The guy is sick in the head and who knows, maybe you would have been his first victim. It's not going to be easy, but I promise you, I will do everything in my power to protect you. You have my word Y/N."

We looked into each other's eyes and I think I stopped breathing for a second. San's gaze was intense, and I felt like he was looking right into my soul.

"I must admit, you do have pretty eyes."

I froze for a second and San noticed my rigid posture.

"Sorry, that was tasteless of me. Too soon I assume?"

I nodded slowly.

"Yeah... It's fine. Thank you."

We went back to staring at each other when the door opened again. Officer Jung walked in with a stack of papers.

"So, I take it you kiddos introduced yourselves. Now, let's go over the plan once more, shall we?"

"You can put your bag in the spare closet down the hall, it will fit all of your clothes as well. I bought you some new towels and a toothbrush for some reason, even though you probably have your own. There is a guest room across from mine, I put a mattress in there because I usually use it as a home office, so I don't have another bed. I hope that's not a problem. I guess some nights you might want to sleep in my bed, it's only fair."

San came with his things a couple of days later, ready to start this whole journey of catching my psycho killer ex. How my life became a blockbuster, I have no idea, but it is what it is. He set down his bags beside my couch and looked around.

"Nice place. I like the whole vibe, it's homey. And, Y/N, you do realise we have to sleep together?"

My eyes widened just as his did.

"No, no. I didn't mean it like that. Sorry. We have to sleep in the same bed, together. That's what I meant."

I nodded and waved him off.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that. But why?"

I was a bit nervous to share a bed with a complete stranger. After everything happened with Jaehyun, finding another man wasn't on my agenda. I suppose this was a completely different situation.

"I have to be next to you to make sure you are safe. Besides that, we have to be convincing. If he is watching you, he will notice my absence in normal, relationship things, so we have to make sure it looks like the real deal. I'm sorry, hopefully it won't last long. My sole purpose is to make sure you are safe, and that bastard gets locked up in the end."

I nodded in understanding. I knew San was right, so I had to suck it up and share a bed with him.

"Okay, but I'm on the left side because I've always slept there, no negotiation."

He chuckled and picked up his bags.

"No problem, I prefer the right side actually. I'm gonna go put these away and then we can sit and talk this through one more time."

"Do you want some coffee? Or tea?"

"Coffee would be great, thanks."

I went to make us two cups of coffee while he unpacked his stuff. After I poured us some much needed caffeine, I put the cups on the living room table and sat on the couch. I always have a blanket draped over the seats, so I pulled it over my legs. I could hear him rummaging around, and after about 15 minutes he joined me on the couch.

San was an attractive man, that much I could notice. He had this calm aura around him, which made me wonder how he got into this world of crime and murders.

"You know, if you want to ask me something, you can. I can feel you staring at me."

Good God. My cheeks flared up and I took a sip of my coffee to collect myself.

"Sorry. It's a bad habit. I was just wondering... How come you decided to be a detective? I assume this job can't bring you any good memories. I work as a teacher's assistant. The job brought me more joy than anything else in the world. I can't imagine..."

San could tell I was struggling to come up with a way to ask him about his job, so he stepped in to help.

"Hey, I get it. This line of work isn't for everybody. You see horrible things, but at the same time, you are the one stopping them from happening. My dad used to be a cop in our small town, but then he got shot. Drug arrest gone wrong. His shoulder never recovered, so he had to retire. He owns a taekwondo studio now. I trained there before I went to the academy. I think part of me does this job because of him. I never imagined they would promote me to be a detective, but I've always had a knack for solving the unsolvable. So, here I am now."

Impressive. San looked about my age, so becoming a detective this young had to be a huge accomplishment in his life.

"That's... Wow. Good for you. But how do you handle all of this?"

He took a sip of his coffee before answering.

"I guess you get used to it. We are trained by a psychiatrist on how to handle these tough situations. Yes, we solve cases and save people, but there comes a time when you can't be faster than your enemy. These killers and stalkers are smart, at times smarter than us. You have to calculate their steps even better than they do. Thinking one step ahead has saved so many people. Other times, it goes to show that we are still human, and we can't predict every step they take."

I shivered and pulled my legs closer to my chest. Is he saying that as a warning? That maybe...

"Hey now, I can feel you overthinking. We've got this in the bag. That bastard won't take a single step into this apartment. Not one step close to you. I won't allow it Y/N. You're safe with me."

I looked at San and took a deep breath. The determination on his face was unmistakable. He wanted Jaehyun to be locked up, and so did I.

"Thank you, San. I know that, and I do trust you. It's just hard. I never imagined myself in this situation. And those poor women... I can't help feeling a bit guilty."

He shook his head and put his cup on the table, turning towards me fully.

"You can't be responsible for someone's actions. This is solely his doing. He didn't have to do this, but he chose to. You can't read his mind, and you can't predict these things. He's a lunatic, and you are lucky you escaped on time. Let me tell you something about his character. He's doing this without thinking it through. That's good for us because we can gather evidence to lock him up for good once he's caught. It seems like he wants to be caught, but he has to get to you before that. This is where I come in. Once he's vulnerable, he's mine and no one else's."

"Do you think... He wants me dead?"

San sighed and took one of my hands in his. My eyes widened slightly, but I didn't pull away. It felt nice. His touch was warm, and it felt sincere.

"He wants you, that much is fact. I don't think he particularly wants you dead, but he isn't sane enough to make that decision. He may want you beside him, but one rash move and you're gone. I'm telling you again, that won't happen, and I want you to try not to think in that direction."

He gently squeezed my hand before letting go. He stood up and stretched. His white shirt went up and I could see the outline of his hard abs. The man was going to be the death of me if I continued slobbering over him like this.

"I'm gonna go take a shower, you put on a cartoon to pump up your mood a bit. I know The Powerpuff Girls are on Channel Three. Don't ask how I know that, it's embarrassing."

I could see his cheeks becoming a bit pink and he all but ran to the bathroom.

Tough detective San watching the Powerpuff Girls? I bet Bubbles is his favorite.

With a laugh, I turned on the TV to search for Channel Three, but I was abruptly cut off by the News Station. I wish I wasn't.

"...the body was found behind a bar, eyes gauged out like the previous two victims. Everything points to the same perpetrator. Police are on the scene, carefully directing people away from the alley. This is the third woman found in a month, and the killer left a message next to her. In what we assume was the victim's blood, there was the number '12' hastily written on the pavement..."

Twelve. As the number on my apartment door.

"Hey Y/N, where did you say the towels were? In the closet or..."

San stopped talking when he saw my frightened expression, the grip on my TV remote and my wide eyes. He looked at the TV and realised what was going on. He walked up to me, turned the TV off and pulled me up.

"Y/N, listen to me carefully. Go into your bedroom and find me a blue hair clip. Do you have something like that?"

I nodded. A blue hair clip? What does he want with that?

"Okay, can you answer me in words?"

"I... Yes. I have one."

"Good girl. Now, go find it."

I felt like my body went into autopilot. I rushed to my bedroom and sat by my vanity. I could see my expression in the big mirror. I looked terrified. But I couldn't dwell on that too much, because I had to find the hair clip. After rummaging around my bags, I pulled out a tiny blue butterfly clip. I forgot I had this, it must be ancient. I felt relieved as I stood up to go take it to San.

Just as I turned around I saw him leaning on the doorframe of my bedroom.

"Feeling better now?"

Huh? I guess I do feel...

"Wait. This was some kind of tactic?"

He smiled and nodded.

"I had to distract you. It's best to put a person into a completely different situation so that your brain focuses on something else. I don't know why I came up with the hair clip, but I had to think of something. You were going into a panic attack it seems?"

I reached out my hand and placed the clip into his open palm. He twirled it around while looking at me.

"Yeah... Ever since this whole thing started they've been coming and going. I can manage them sometimes, but this one was tough. He wrote my apartment number next to that poor woman, San. He's insane."

San put the clip in his jean pocket and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"Y/N, we're going to get him, I promise. Please, go get some rest. I'm gonna take that shower now and I'll be in bed soon. Make yourself comfortable, and leave the right side free, will you?"

I chuckled and nodded.

"I sleep on the left, remember?"

"So this lock has a code system, and it has to have four digits. Think of something you won't forget easily, but at the same time, it has to be something Jaehyun doesn't know."

San was installing my new lock, and I was trying to be helpful by holding the flashlight over his head. Last night was... Interesting to say the least. I knocked out before he came out of the bathroom, so I spared myself of the embarrassment of our first night together. However, when I opened my eyes in the morning, I could feel his arm draped around my stomach, holding me. I wiggled out quietly and kept silent when he asked me if everything was okay during the night.

I didn't want to make him heel awkward, I could do that for the both of us.

After breakfast, we went down to a hardware store to buy another lock and key. San already had the security system, so we've been at it for some time now.

"When is your birthday?"

He turned towards me and quirked an eyebrow.

"My birthday?"

I nodded and turned off the flashlight.

"That's something he won't know for sure. I mean, he doesn't even know your name so it's the only logical option."

"You think you'll remember it?" He smirked and stood up. He towered over me, and in the small hallway space, I felt like he was a step away from pushing me against the wall.

"If my life depends on it, I think I will."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked into his eyes. We stared at each other for some time before his phone rang.

"I have to take that, you punch in the code three times. It's 1007."

With that, he looked me up and down again before disappearing into the bedroom to take the call.

I felt like I could breathe again. After entering the code, I locked the door and went into the kitchen for some water. San was taking a long time with the call, so I assumed it was important. Judging by his expression when he came out, it only confirmed my suspicion.

"That was officer Jung. I need to go down to the station. Jaehyun left a message in front of the station. I think he's onto us, but I could be wrong. It may be a warning to the police."

He looked at the floor and took a deep breath.

"Well... What did he leave? Was it like the letter he sent me? Did he do something like that?"

"Ah... I don't think you want to know."

I pushed myself to walk right in front of him.

"Tell me. I need to know."

San looked into my eyes, an apologetic expression marring his face.

"He sent them a pair of eyeballs. They don't know if it's another victim, or one of the older ones. He said the eyes weren't of use to him anymore, but he wanted to keep the rest for now."

I think I'm about to puke my lunch out. I closed my eyes and put my hands over my ears. This was not the time for a panic attack. Before long, I felt San's hands go over mine. The additional weight brought me a sense of relief. I opened my eyes to look into his concerned ones.

"Don't worry, you don't have to make me look for blue hair clips, I've got this one." He smiled and put his hands down.

"So I assume they want you to look into it?" He nodded.

"Yeah. Are you okay with being alone? I know the sun is about to set, but I'll try not to take long."

"It's fine. This is your job after all. Go, the faster you leave, the quicker you'll come back." With a final nod, he went to the door, put on a jacket and his shoes and turned towards me.

"Be safe. I'll call you when I'm on the way back." I waved him off.

"Yeah, yeah. Go be a detective." He smiled and out he went.

It was a bit creepy after he left. I couldn't shake off the weird feeling of being watched, but I knew I was safe in my newly equipped apartment. I noticed the stack of papers on my kitchen counter. I haven't looked into my mail all day. San was the one who brought it up, but we didn't go through it since his hands were already full.

I sorted out my bills and pamphlets when I reached another black, almost suede, envelope.

This has to be a joke.

With a sigh, I opened up the second letter.

"My dear Y/N,

I'm a bit angry with you. We are separated for only a month, and now someone is moving in with you? Are you that desperate? He isn't even that handsome, but I couldn't really tell. He better watch out though. I don't like sharing what's mine.

I can't wait to be with you again baby. I've missed looking into your eyes terribly. Those other ladies don't stand a chance against you.

Why don't you write me back? You know my address. It's true that I don't spend time there anymore, but I'll check for your response for sure.

Take care baby, we'll meet again soon.

With love, J."

"So we know he is lurking around the neighborhood, but we can't tell his exact location. He's moving around too much, but the bastard knows how to hide."

Officer Jung was a man in his late forties, married for twenty years with a son and daughter. He's been in the police force since he was twenty-one, but he's never had a case like this. Jaehyun was a dirty bastard, and he was as sly as a snake. He was giving them a hard time, but there wasn't a crime Officer Jung wasn't able to solve.

San admired his determination. He was like a role model to him, as his parents live in the countryside and he doesn't see them as often. It seems like this case was affecting Mr Jung more than any other. San could say the same thing. In the small amount of time he's spent with you, he could tell you were a lovely person. You just had this spark following you, a pep in your step without even noticing, and your eyes were truly incredible. He was afraid of getting attached to you too soon, but he couldn't stop it even if he tried.

"Y/N called me. He's left another letter for her. He knows I'm with her. He's directly threatening me, but he doesn't seem to know I'm working for the police."

Officer Jung nodded.

"That's good. We'll keep it that way. That poor girl must be frightened. You're free to go, son. Go take care of Miss Y/N. I assume you two have become acquainted?" He had a small smirk, and a suggestive wink told San all he needed to know.

"Officer, with all due respect, we aren't in an ideal situation to be talking like that. I'm doing everything I can to make Y/N feel at ease, but it doesn't seem to be working."

"I get that boy, but you have to understand the poor lady. She's a direct target. Go home and make sure she knows we're catching this bastard."

San shook hands with Mr Jung and made his way outside to his car. The Sun had set an hour ago and he knew Y/N was probably wondering where he was.

Never has he felt such a strong attraction towards someone as he does with her. From the moment he laid eyes on her he knew he was screwed. Now he was terrified of what could happen. Without taking his eyes off the road he dialed her number. After two rings her angelic voice answered.

"Hey San. Are you coming back?" I'm speeding back, doll.

He held it in and replied calmly.

"Yeah, sorry about that. We had to have a meeting. But I'm gonna be there in about 15 minutes, so hold on tight. You did a good job today, staying alone." She chuckled, and it made San smile.

"Well I didn't have much of a choice. I cooked dinner in the meantime. I heard you make a killer lasagna? Well, I think you might have some competition buddy."

"We'll see about that. Do you need me to pick up anything on the way?"

"No! I mean... No. Just come home, I'm at my maximum here."

Home. He hasn't heard that one in a while. It sounded nice coming from her.

"Don't worry, I'm coming as fast as I can. Cut me the biggest piece of lasagna you can." Y/N chuckled and cleared her throat.

"Coming right up sir!" She hung up the phone without knowing how much of an impact her simple words had on San.

Boy, was he in trouble.

A week has passed by without trouble. No new murders on the news, no letters, no calls from the station. Everything seemed to be going just fine.

Except the sheet amount of sexual tension between herself and San.

It was undeniable. Every time he passed by her in the kitchen to grab something he would put his hand on her hip. When she walked into the bathroom, he was just about to exit, towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping down his hard chest. The heat was on as the weather got colder, and she was walking around in tiny shorts which made San blush every time she bent down to pick something up.

The fleeting glances, the not so subtle touches, the rosy cheeks every time they are beside each other in bed... It all came to a culmination one Saturday morning.

San was always looking for something to hug while he slept. After your first night together you brought a pillow for him to embrace. This time, neither one of you even thought about bringing that stupid pillow to bed.

During the night, you two naturally gravitate towards each other. In the morning, while the sun tried to pry its way into the room through your blinds, San had his arms wrapped around you from behind. You woke up first, feeling hot all over. Your thin shorts weren't a big enough barrier between your ass and his rock hard length.

You were at an impasse. Do you wiggle out of bed and pretend like nothing happened, or, do you let yourself be caught in his embrace and finally give into the desire you two feel for each other? It seems like San was ready to answer the question for you.

You could feel his strong arms tightening around your mid section, his big palm caressing your stomach. You could hear him letting out a big sigh.

"Y/N... Are you awake?"

You could never get enough of his morning voice.

"Yeah..."

"Y/N, I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but... If you don't stop moving around I won't be able to control myself."

Without answering, you slowly moved your hips over his hard-on. San grunted and you were on your back in a second. He was hovering above you, his angelic face illuminated by the morning light.

"You're really asking for trouble, you know?" You lifted your brow.

"Me? You're the one running your hands all over me." He laughed and laid his head on your chest, putting his arms around you again. He was like a big cat, invading your space with his warmth.

"You're going to get me in so much trouble." His voice was a bit muffled with his face squashed between your breasts.

"Hey, you're the one feeling me up."

"I told you I can't control that! Besides, you are too soft to resist."

"So what are we going to do about that?"

He lifted his head and placed his chin on my chest before looking into my eyes. I could see him contemplating.

"Listen, I think we are both on the same page here. However, my priority right now is your safety. Maybe when this is all over, we could go on an actual date? I think that would be nice, you know?"

He wants to take me out?

"Really? You want to go on a date with me?"

"And why is that so hard to believe?" I shrugged and started playing with his hair. He looked like he would melt in a second.

"I don't know, it's all so messed up. Maybe you don't want anything to do with me after this is over."

"That's not going to happen. I like you, Y/N. I want you, it's ridiculous how much. I just don't want to compromise your safety for my selfish desires." I nodded and placed a gentle kiss on his head. His blinked and pulled himself up on his forearms.

"You know, maybe we could break my rules, just this once." My brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

San smiled and got closer, our noses almost touching.

"Say, Y/N... Have you ever made out with a police officer?"

I giggled. "No, I can't say I did. Why?"

"Well... Would you want to?"

I bit my lip and nodded. Why the hell not?

"Good to know."

And just like that, his lips were on mine.

The kiss was more passionate than I could have expected. San was going slow, but as time went by, we picked up the pace. Our hands were exploring every inch of our bodies. My legs were firm around his waist, with his tangled in my hair.

We rolled around the bed, laughing in between kisses. After what felt like an hour, or more, we finally stopped to catch our breaths.

"That was... Wow." I laughed again.

"Yeah, wow. But San..." He turned to look at me.

"What's wrong?"

"I thought you were a detective, not an officer?"

"Oh, yeah... Well, you just made out with a police detective. You can cross it on your bucket list."

I couldn't help the giggles, and San joined me. We naturally gravitated towards each other again and, soon enough, we got lost in each other's lips.

What we didn't know at the time was that a pair of dark eyes was watching everything from the building across the street.

The morning went by quickly. San and I didn't leave the bed for a good two hours, rolling around, laughing, talking, kissing... There was so much kissing it kind of makes me dizzy thinking about it.

When we finally decided to get up, we got a call from officer Jung. He was concerned about the silence on Jaehyun's end, but they didn't have anything new on him. I could see it was affecting San, but he tried acting tough in front of me. After the call ended, we decided to lounge around all day.

By nine o'clock, we were hungry and exhausted from all of the kissing we were doing.

"I don't feel like cooking really. I think I want to melt into this couch if I'm being honest." San chuckled and kissed my forehead.

"I get you, but we do have to eat. Do you want me to go to that pizza place down the street? We can order and I can pick it up. I know the delivery driver creeps you out."

I shivered a bit. "Yeah, he always tries to look down my top. You wouldn't mind doing that?"

He caressed my cheek before pinching it.

"For you? Not at all. Let me call them and I'll be on my way."

After placing the order, San put on his jacket and shoes and kissed me again.

"I will never get enough of this." I smiled and gave him another peck.

"Nor will I. Go now before I starve."

He laughed and went out. He didn't bring his car keys, but I knew there was no need, as the place was literally down the street. I heard the lock click and I pushed the button to activate the alarm. Funny, it always glows red when it's on, but now it wasn't shining. Maybe the batteries weren't good anymore? I'll have to tell San when he comes back.

I went into the kitchen to take out some plates and cups. I looked around for candles to make it more romantic, but only found one.

"Guess this will do."

After setting everything up on my living room table I went to my bedroom to put on something nice. I know I don't have to try, but I felt like San deserved it.

I was about to pull my shirt over my head when I heard the door clicking. It's been about ten minutes since San left, he couldn't be back so soon?

"San? Is that you?"

There was no response to my question. It was eerily silent.

I was just about to turn around when I saw him.

The reflection in my vanity mirror.

"Hey there baby. How have you been?"

"Jaehyun?"

San was practically skipping towards the pizza joint down the street. His day couldn't be any better. Not only did he kiss the most beautiful woman in the world, he was certain she felt the same as he did about their connection. When this whole mess becomes history, he will take her on the best date of her life. She deserved nothing less.

Once he reached the family owned business, he told them his name and order number and they quickly packed it up for him.

He must have been gone for about 20 minutes when his phone rang in his pocket.

"Officer Jung? Is everything okay?"

Why was the old man calling him on a Saturday night?

"San! My boy! We have a big problem! Where are you? Is Y/N there?"

"Woah, hold up. She's not with me, I left her at home to pick up our dinner? What's going on?" Mr Jung was awfully quiet on the other end.

"Mr Jung?"

"San... You need to run back as fast as you can. He called the station, he's going to do something to her tonight. I've already sent out a patrole, they are coming as fast as they can. There was an accident on the bridge tonight, they have go take a detour. San, my boy, run and save the poor girl."

San's blood ran cold instantly. How could he have been so foolish? He left her, all alone, with a serial killer out to get her. He threw away the pizza box and sprinted down the street.

He could only pray go get there before something terrible happened.

"Jaehyun... Please... You don't want to do this."

He stepped into the room and closed the door.

"Do what baby? I'm here to take what's mine. Do you know how hard it was watching you with that loser? He even made you change your locks so I couldn't get in! But I found a way, I always do!"

He kept stalking towards me until I was backed up against my vanity table.

"Do you have any idea how much I've missed your eyes baby? Your beautiful, warm, stunning eyes..."

"Please, I don't want to die."

He put his hands on my cheeks.

"No, no, no... Baby, don't worry about that. I mean you have to die, but not yet. I have to make up for lost time, you know?"

I slowly grabbed my eyeliner pencil from the table, trying to be as discreet as possible.

"Yeah, I think I get it... How do you want to make up for it?"

He seemed to lighten up at my fake enthusiasm, and he put his hands down, but he didn't step away.

"I knew you'd come around baby. Well, we have all night to decide once you come with me. We can't do anything here, your bed is filthy from that idiot sleeping in it."

Just as he was about to kiss me, I jammed the pencil into his eyeball.

He screamed and I pushed him out of my way, running towards the door.

"You bitch! I'm gonna fucking kill you! Oh, you're in for it now Y/N!"

I opened the bedroom door and I almost made it to the front of my apartment before he tackled me to the ground.

"Not so fast you slut. You think you can run away from me? Think again, you bitch."

I struggled underneath his weight, trying to push him off with my legs. He was too strong for me.

"Let me go, please! Please, you don't want to do this!"

"Shut up!" He smacked me right across the mouth, and I could taste blood on my lips.

In the midst of my struggle, San appeared before my eyes. Poor San... He was going to be devastated.

I was about to give up when I heard the sound of my door being broken down.

"Well, well... Isn't that the bastard himself?"

"Get the fuck of off her before I put a bullet between your eyes."

I looked up and I couldn't help but fear the expression on San's face. He looked dark, and the gun in his hands wasn't helping.

Suddenly, Jaehyun pulled me up and put his arm around my midsection. He had a pocket knife in his other hands, aimed straight at my throat.

"Listen up pretty boy. One wrong move and her blood will be all over the walls. You know what I hate about you bastards? You come in in the worst possible moments. We were just about to run away and have the time of our lives, isn't that right baby?"

He caressed my throat with the knife and I could see San struggling to keep himself composed. He cleared his throat.

"You think I care about her? I'm just a detective waiting to put cuffs on your hands boy, nothing else. This was all an act, and you fell for it easily. Honestly, you call yourself a killer? Pathetic."

I knew San didn't mean any of those words, but it hurt hearing him say them out loud.

"Jaehyun, baby... You need to let me go. I made a mistake in the bedroom, that wasn't nice of me. But I got scared, you know? Please baby..." San was looking into my eyes as I started pleading with Jaehyun.

My ex was slowly loosing his grip on me. I could hear his breathing becoming laboured.

"You really mean that baby? Wanna come with me now?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, yes. I'll come with you."

He slowly lowered the knife, but he stopped suddenly.

"You think I'm that stupid you bitch? You're gonna get it now, and Loverboy will have front row tickets."

I closed my eyes waiting for him to push the knife into my throat when a loud bang rang through my ears.

A bullet whizzed past my ear and right into Jaehyun's head.

If San didn't grab me I would have gone to the ground along with Jaehyun.

I let out a yelp.

Everything went dark for a moment.

"Y/N! Come on baby girl, come back to me."

I opened my eyes and stared straight into San's. I could see my living room ceiling. We were still inside?

"What happened?"

He sighed in relief. "You scared the hell out of me."

He pulled me up into a hug and that's when I saw it.

Jaehyun's lifeless body sprawled all over my living room floor.

"Oh my God... San... Is he?"

"Yeah, he is. I'm sorry Y/N, but he was about to stab you. I couldn't let that happen." I looked up at San and threw my arms around him. I squeezed his shoulders like my life depended on it.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. You kept me safe. You did it."

I could feel him caressing my hair and kissing the top on my head.

"Always baby girl, I'd do anything for you."

We could hear the sirens finally blasting from outside. In no time, my apartment was full of police officers, AMTs and a forensic unit. They had to take care of Jaehyun's body.

Officer Jung walked in as well.

"Y/N! San, my boy! Oh thank God!" He threw his arms around us.

"Hey Mr Jung..." He jabbed San in the forehead.

"Thank God you were one of the best shooters in your class. Nobody could have pulled this off besides you. I'm proud of you."

Mr Jung helped us stand up and took us outside of the building. San didn't want to leave my side even when another policeman came to take out statements.

Soon enough, we were sitting on the steps of my building, a blanket around our shoulders. We watched as a black van drove away with Jaehyun's body inside. It felt surreal.

"You know everything is going to be okay now, right?"

I looked at him and admired his manly features. I nodded.

"I know... I have you by my side now, if we are still on for that date?"

San smiled and kissed my forehead.

"Hell yes we are."

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #choi san #ateez san #ateez police detective #angst #horror #romance #strangers to lovers #aged up characters #lovers

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

Note

AITA for creating and running a gimmick blog?

A few months back, I was bored and decided to hop on the trend of gimmick blogs. Since I don't have any crazy skills like identifying cars or programming bots, I settled on something I thought was extremely simple: correcting typos. So I'll sometimes reblog posts that have typos in them and comment with corrections. I would only do this on posts that were already lighthearted or joking in tone; I would never derail a serious post with it. And I really haven't used it very often - maybe a couple times a week at most, just when I happen to notice a good candidate.

Well, recently I was inundated out of nowhere by a bunch of anons telling me this was a horribly offensive idea. According to them, I was insulting dyslexic people, non-native English speakers, people without access to education, and a whole bunch of other groups with these unwarranted corrections.

I had honestly never considered that angle, and I've paused using that blog so I can try and reflect on it. But when I replied to a couple of the asks asking for a better explanation of exactly how this was harmful - because I genuinely wanted to be informed - the vast majority of the replies, with few exceptions, were obscenely rude to me. I've been called classist, ableist, racist, and a lot of much worse words I don't care to repeat here. I blocked exactly two people because they were being extremely hateful in my notes, while still trying to engage with the more polite ones, but of course I still got accused of blocking and ignoring everyone I disagreed with.

The truth is, I'm still not sure whether or not I disagree with any of them on the actual subject at hand; I just can't deal with people being bitter and rude and assuming the worst of me. I tried to make it clear that I was more than willing to listen and have a conversation in good faith, but that has proved impossible.

So now I'm really hurt and really, really confused. I'm not going to just blindly trust a small group of hypocrites on the internet who claim they're worried about people's feelings while at the same time trying to completely villainize me as if I don't have feelings too. But I also understand that they might have a point. Sadly, politeness is not always correlated with correctness.

I absolutely do not want to continue running this gimmick blog if it's truly harmful and offensive to people. I've just never encountered this take before, and it was delivered with such vitriol that I had to take a break from tumblr entirely just to recover my sanity. So I'm hoping a much broader and less biased sample size will help to clear this up. I know an AITA poll isn't perfect, but it should do.

If I get a YTA verdict, I will delete the typo-correcting blog and stop immediately, no questions asked. If not, I'll know I just angered an extremely vocal minority that has no idea how to deal with conflict.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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beardedjoel · 1 year ago

Text

new addiction

boss!joel x f!reader one shot collection | part two

summary: you’ve been fantasizing about your boss, but when he leaves you a mysterious note to meet him after work hours, everything changes.

warnings: 18+! MDNI! non-apocalypse au, boss!joel is a lil mean but not too mean, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, unprotected piv, spit kink, size kink kinda, panty stealing? does that need a tag idk, this is a filthy nasty fic and i love it

word count: 4k

a/n: basically just a shamless one shot of joel being your boss and you getting to fuck him, this is not my most proof read work i’ve ever posted but i hope you all like it! inspired by the new taylor swift song “i can see you” it’s literally my religion right now

You feel the crinkle of the paper in your hands another time, staring down at it as if the words on the page are going to change any time soon. You read over the simple phrasing, almost wanting to trace your fingers over the inking just to check that it’s truly real.

my office

6pm

You’ve been working for Mr. Miller - Joel, he told you to call him, but old habits die hard - for a little over four months now. You’d always been taught to refer to any person of authority this way, so it was taking some getting used to to just call him Joel.

This has been the longest four months of your life, mostly due to the man in question - Joel fucking Miller, your boss, the man responsible for your livelihood, the man you absolutely should not be pining over. How you can stop lusting after him is beyond you when he looks like that - his dark hair has grown out a bit since you started, brown curls flecked with gray that match his beard traveling down his neck now. Curls you dream of sinking your hands into and tugging in the heat of the moment every single day. Every time his dark brown eyes catch yours during conversation, you have to fight your mind to stay on track. Watching his lips move, wondering what they’d feel like on yours, on any part of your body. It’s been completely mind bending, the attraction you feel for him.

It all started a few weeks ago, when you started to wonder if the attraction was mutual. At first, it was a sidelong glance that lasted a bit too long here and there, then a few times where he brushed his body a little too close to yours, and you’d feel the heat of it linger long after he was gone. You could scarcely breathe when he got that close to you, a few times he’d hovered behind you at your desk to look at something on the computer with you and you wondered how you weren’t combusting, flames dancing across your skin. The moment you’d felt his hot breath on your neck, you fought hard not to shudder, and when one slipped by, you cursed yourself, hoping Joel hadn’t noticed. You’d thought maybe he hadn’t, but he suggested as he walked away that maybe you get a sweater to wear inside if you were so cold.

Fucking asshole.

He had to know the effect he was having on you. No matter how hard you tried to hide it, he was flirting in his own, restrained way. The most you’d gotten out of him was when he put one of his large, my god, so large, hands on your lower back as he’d breezed past you in the small, cramped employee break room to get to the coffee machine.

“‘Scuse me, doll,” he’d said gruffly as he passed, and you nearly choked upon hearing the little pet name from him. Doll… you’d rolled the word around in your mind the entire rest of the day, amazed you could get any work done.

It was a small office - just a little, rented space to run his contracting business out of, and you’d been hired on to do any kind of admin work, really. There wasn’t any kind of official job title, you’d just been needed to tend to the books, appointments, and making sure everything was in order. It wasn’t a bad gig, not your dream job by any means, but now that you’d fallen deeply into your infatuation with your boss, of all people, it was making it hard to want to leave.

And if you’re honest with yourself, you should want to find a new job - Joel can be, well, an asshole, to put it mildly. He doesn’t have time for bullshit, and he makes that perfectly clear to everyone in his vicinity. All the employees at the construction sites and office do revere him, and know he’s one of the best in Austin to learn from and have on your resume as far as contracting goes. On his good days, however, he really is a pleasure to have around, and you relish in the times you get to see his warm smile and hear him laugh at one of his employees busting his balls. On those days, you can see the speck of hope that keeps the people around him in his life.

Joel typically stops in at least once a day before rushing off to check on things at his job sites, and sometimes you do worry he’s wearing himself too thin. He comes in looking exhausted some days, snapping easily and drinking copious amounts of coffee. But you have to constantly remind yourself that’s not for you to worry about - you aren’t his wife, his girlfriend, his anything. You can’t fight off the desire to be something for him, though, wanting to be there for him, to provide some kind of release for him on those tightly wound days. From there, your mind drifts to the deepest corners of depravity, thinking of all the ways you could help him release.

On one such stressful day, he dropped a note on your desk, so quickly in passing anyone else in the room might have missed it. He didn’t bother to look back at you afterwards, leaving you wide eyed, staring down at the small piece of paper that was folded in half as he continued on to his office.

You felt like you were floating the entire day, anticipation boiling in your gut as you wondered if this note could mean what you think it does. By the time 5:45 rolls around, Joel having breezed back into the building and shutting himself in his office thirty minutes ago, you’ve decided you’re either getting canned or fucked tonight, and both options are making you so nervous you might jump out of your own skin. The few people left in the office pack up for the day and head out, leaving you pretending to finish up work as you wave goodbye to them.

You stand up right on time, smoothing down the short pencil skirt you’re wearing before breathing deeply and reaching for the doorknob to his office. You knock as you open the door, poking your head in. Joel looks up from his desk, where he’d had his forehead on his palm, looking over some paperwork.

“See you got my note,” he says, his voice slightly hoarse from a day of likely speaking and barking orders at his various job sites. “Shut the door behind ya,” Joel adds, and you feel your heart jump further into your throat, a slightly shaky hand shutting the door behind you as he asks.

“Sure. Er, what’s this about, Mr. Miller?” You fidget with your hands in front of you, resting them on your belly as you wait expectantly.

“Joel, remember?” he replies with a cocky smile. You still haven’t quite figured out his intentions, and at this point, you figure it could go either way, and you’re bracing yourself internally for either losing your job or what could be the best sex of your life.

“Right,” you say with a shaky chuckle. “Nervous habit, sorry… Joel.”

“Nothin’ to be nervous about, why don’t ya come on in,” Joel says genially, a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips at hearing you say his name.

You slowly make your way to the chair that’s across from his desk, a cluttered mess that you’ve learned is organized in his own way, as he always seems to be able to find everything he needs despite you offering many times to help organize it for him. S’okay, I’ve got a system, he’d repeat every single time, so eventually you’d given up on asking.

“How was your day? You seem stressed,” you dare to ask as you sit down, and Joel quirks a brow at you.

“Same old bullshit,” he says breezily, rubbing a hand down his face and pushing the papers on his desk aside, focusing his attention on you. “So fuckin’ stressed, but you don’t need to worry about all of that.”

“What if…” you start, swallowing hard. Now or fucking never. If you’re about to possibly lose your job, you may as well go out with all you’ve got. “What if I did worry about that?” you blink a few times, eyelashes fluttering in his direction and Joel gives you an indiscernible look, but you swear his eyes go a shake darker. “Just, that you’re stressed, I mean. Isn’t it my job to help you?”

Joel barely even reacts other than a flicker across his eyes that you only notice because you’re looking so intently. The bastard was probably prepared for this, like he knew you’d come in here ready to flirt your little heart out if the situation called for it.

Fucking. Asshole. But an extremely hot asshole with his eyes trained right on yours, making you melt instantly and forgetting all about the cursing him you were doing in your head.

“That so?” Joel says slowly with an amused, deep chuckle. He stands up, making his way around the desk towards you, and your heart picks up, practically beating out of your chest now. “That in your job description, hm? Help ol’ Mr. Miller when he’s stressed?”

His tone, his body language, everything is screaming green lights for you to continue this witty repartee. “It could be, if you wanted it to,” you reply, squaring your shoulders back, not cowering from his gaze, but rather intensifying yours with a small pout of your lips. Joel’s movements over to you are slow and calculated, practically sauntering until he’s standing in front of you. He absolutely towers over you now, more than usual, his broad shoulders looking even wider from your angle below him. He leans back on the desk, perching on the edge, giving you a direct view at his crotch, a now very apparent bulge in his jeans.

“Pretty thing like you’d really want to do all that for me?” Joel asks.

You lick your lips, trying to steady your breathing. “Mhm,” you sound, and your confirmation is enough to have Joel leaning forward, placing a hand on your cheek, fingers ghosting along the skin as he makes his way down to your neck, the light trace of his calloused pads sending goosebumps along your arms.

“Like the way I’m touchin’ you, pretty girl?” he asks quietly, and you manage to let out another affirmative noise. You watch his thick fingers tracing down the top of your chest, silently begging please keep going, please. When his hand reaches the top button of your shirt, he pauses, and your legs squeeze together in anticipation. You nearly whine when he withdraws his hand, but seconds later he’s using a finger to tip your chin up, indicating for you to stand.

You meet him against his desk, his legs opening wide for you to step in between them, and you press in close, feeling unsure of what to do with your hands, how far he wants to take things. You delicately place a hand on his thigh to steady yourself, and he slips his arms around you, immediately sliding them down your back and to your ass.

“Fuck,” he mumbles as he squeezes your ass firmly through your skirt. “Such a sexy little thing, you wear this for me?”

“You’ve caught me,” you say with a sly look. The skirt isn’t anything that scandalous, but you do suppose it shows more of your legs than may typically be deemed appropriate in an office setting. You’ve always blamed the more skimpy clothing you’d wear on the hot Austin climate, but you know in the back of your mind, it was all always for Joel.

“Don’t have to wear all this to get my attention, y’know,” he says a little more tenderly, still kneading the globes of your ass hungrily, pulling your skirt up in the process.

“Seemed like you enjoyed it, all those times I saw you watch me leave your office,” you quip back.

“Damn right I did, ‘m only human, darlin’,” he says gruffly, yanking you forward, and the hardness in his jeans is pressing right into your own throbbing heat, sending a swirling wave of desire in between your legs. Slickness is gathering there quickly, leaving your underwear already wet and uncomfortable against your skin.

“On your knees, now,” Joel says, pushing you down by your shoulders until you bow under the pressure, getting down onto the carpet and sitting on your knees. “That’s a good girl,” he says with a smirk. He makes quick work of his belt and zipper, freeing his cock within moments, and it takes everything in you not to gasp at the sight laid before you.

His cock is beyond what you’d imagined - he’s a big guy overall, but you can’t say you’ve ever been with someone his size, and it’s immediately intimidating. And the bastard knows it, you can tell by his coy little smile as you look at his throbbing cock with wide eyes, taking in the size of him at full attention. You take a little comfort in the fact that he seems painfully turned on by you, the head of his cock leaking pre-cum, pink and pulsating for any part of you to be on it.

“Go on now, doll, ain’t got all night,” Joel says, snapping you out of your reverence for his cock, and you glance up to him before placing a few kisses on the head. Joel hisses through his teeth, his hips bucking forward at your face. When you lap up the drop of precum, swirling your tongue with your eyes locked on his, he lets out a full groan. You hover over his cock, letting your drool collect and fall down onto his shaft in a long string, and the warmth of it brings out a frustrated growl from Joel. He watches with darkened eyes, and his hand shoots to the back of your head, gripping your hair tightly.

“Knew you’d be so fuckin’ dirty, such a little tease,” he growls out. He uses your hair to tilt your head back, so your neck is craned up, facing him more directly now. “If you’re gonna act like that, be willin’ to take it in return, sweetheart,” Joel says more coldly. “Open your mouth.” It’s not an ask, but a command, and the authoritarian in him makes you want to listen. You pop your mouth open, shaking a little bit under his tight grip as you watch him gather his own saliva and let it slowly fall out of his mouth, straight down into yours. You taste the strangeness of the sensation, never having had someone else's spit in your mouth in such a copious amount.

“Now swallow,” he demands, and you make a show of swallowing hard, eliciting a devious smile from Joel. “And get back to work,” he says, loosening his grip on your hair and pushing your head back to the level of his cock, dripping and awaiting your mouth.

You immediately slide your mouth down his shaft, not wanting any more pushback from Joel on your teasing, and you taste the saltiness of him as your mouth stretches more than you’re sure you can accommodate. You start to bob more quickly, savoring the myriad of groans and hums Joel makes in the height of his pleasure.

“Fuck… your mouth’s even better than I ‘magined,” Joel says, his hips thrusting in time with your bobbing, sending his cock back further into your throat. A gag slips out, but you swallow him down, allowing him even deeper as your hand works on the rest of him that won’t fit inside of your mouth. He inhales sharply before pushing you back by the shoulders, his cock leaving your mouth with a loud pop.

You barely have time to be confused by the sudden interruption before Joel pulls you up under the arms, spinning you and flattening you against his desk, and you scramble to slide back, papers and office supplies spilling and moving everywhere. He flings a frustrated hand to clear it out of the way, sending everything flying onto the floor, and you stare wide-eyed, thinking this kind of thing only happens in the movies. And here you are, living in a real life fucking movie.

Joel grips your face, turning your attention back his way before crashing his lips into yours, ravenous kisses and swipes of his tongue taking over every sense. You moan, grinding your hips into him as you return the energy of his kisses, pulling back to trace your lips along his chin, the roughness of his beard scratching your face before you reach his earlobe, giving it a few gentle sucks.

“Shit,” Joel hisses out, pushing down your chest to have you lay back on the desk. He tugs under your knees, pulling you to the edge and hiking up your skirt in the process. His hand slides up your thigh, and you’re panting in anticipation, knowing he’s about to see the very evidence of your arousal absolutely soaking your lace panites. When Joel hooks his thumbs in the sides, pulling them down, he makes a satisfied huff at the slick, shining stain that’s left on the black fabric.

“Now that’s a sight…” Joel says, holding the panties up before slipping them into his back pocket. “Didn’t know you’d wanted to help me de-stress this badly, darlin’, would’ve called you in here ages ago,” he teases you with a wry chuckle, clearly enjoying the very compromising position he has you in.

“I do,” you say impatiently. “Didn’t know if it was okay to… you’re my boss.”

“More than okay. Y’see, I’ve been thinkin’ the same thing f’ a while now, havin’ to resist such a perfect little thing that walked right into my office one day.” He tuts with frustration, tightening his grip on your thighs. “Seen you watch me like you couldn't wait to get that mouth on this cock, sugar.”

You nod, confirming everything he said was true. “I j-ust see you so worked up, so much on your shoulders, Joel. Let me…” you heave, “Take it all out on me.”

You tempt him to take that next step, wrapping your legs around his hips, your ankles crossing over each other to pull him even closer.

“Sure you ain’t gonna tell anyone about this?” Joel asks with a few huffs, clearly holding back from what he really desires right now. His body is radiating the unmet need of release that’s throbbing from his every pore right down to his painfully hard cock.

You shake your head wildly, the back of your head moving along the desk. You sit up enough to peer at him and make sure he knows you’re serious.

“Our little secret,” you whisper huskily, letting a smile curl onto your lips.

“Good girl.” Joel returns the smile, one much more cunning as his features darken and he pushes his hard cock against your opening, the large head alone already making your hips twitch with pleasure. When he pushes in you make a small whimper, but try to stuff it down quickly as he stretches you with a beautiful sting along your opening.

“Fu… oh my god,” you murmur, as he pushes in further and further, until you’re sure you couldn’t possibly be more full of him. When he moves past even that point, you groan and realize he’s fully seated inside of you, deeper than you’d ever imagined was even possible. You quickly pulsate around him, your body adjusting to his size until it starts to feel more pleasurable than painful.

“There we go, look at that…” Joel says breathlessly. “Takin’ this cock so pretty, aren’t ya?” He doesn’t even take a beat before he begins thrusting, his massive hands holding tightly onto your hips to steady you as you jostle back onto the desk. Your back arches into the pounding of your two bodies together, warmth growing from deep inside of you where he’s hitting so perfectly. You decide that while you’d made this about him, you wanted to fulfill a fantasy of your own while you had the chance. You’d daydreamed of a certain scenario countless times over the weeks, one you intended to have come to life and turn out to be even better than you could have imagined.

“Fuck me over your desk, Mr. Miller,” you say, an extra bite on the last words, knowing he won’t correct you on his name this time. He growls, a noise deep in his throat at your words.

“Want me to bend you over ‘n fuck you right on this desk, d’ya?” Joel asks, not even allowing you to answer before pulling out of you. You brace yourself on the desk, hopping off and immediately turning around, standing up and pressing the entire length of your body back onto Joel’s. You reach an arm up around his neck and pull him down for a kiss, and he lets out a low hum, grinding into your back.

He doesn’t let it last, though, the tender kiss, before he pushes you down with the palm of his hand on your back, guiding you to rest with your ass out and body pressed low onto the desk. You pant hard, feeling slick gathering between your legs all over again at how close you are to fulfilling your ultimate fantasy with him.

Joel has no mercy, slamming his cock into you, and this angle is completely devastating, ready to ruin you at any moment as your legs immediately begin to shake when his cock hits against your walls hard. He thrusts into you over and over, and you can’t help but be anything but loud, moaning out his name and every expletive that comes to mind as you practically go wild over the way he pumps you so full each and every time. You feel tears sting your eyes, the release trying to build to a crescendo deep in your core.

One of Joel’s hands finds your clit, rubbing tight circles and you fold, completely undone at the large pad of his finger starting to coax your climax out of you.

“C’mon, let me feel you come on this cock, know you’ve been wantin’ to,” Joel says haughtily, and you give in to the sensation, letting the waves of practically transcendent pleasure overtake you as you come hard, screaming Joel’s name in the process.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna - “ Joel says in the midst of your writhing, moaning mess, before being cut off by his own orgasm being pulled from your pussy squeezing his cock. He quickly pulls out, letting himself spill onto your back with a few extra jerks of his cock, the ropes of cum warm on your skin. Joel breathes heavily, caught off guard by the intensity and quickness of his climax, knowing he nearly didn’t make it.

“Jesus, sugar, gonna make a man fuckin’ crazy with a pussy like that,” Joel purrs, using a tissue to begrudgingly clean up your back - he’d thought you’d looked much better all flushed and covered in his cum, and was already plotting a way to see it again and again.

You hum a satisfied sigh, turning back to look at him before sitting up and settling on the edge of the desk. “Glad I could help, boss,” you say teasingly, and Joel already feels another twitch in his cock at your toying with him. “You still stressed?” you ask, batting your eyelashes innocently.

“You’ve no fuckin’ idea…” Joel sighs. “Got a whole new set of problems now,” he says, looking you over with greedy eyes.

“Well, you know where to find me, if you ever need any help with that,” you say with a wink before hopping off the desk and breezing out of his office, daring a last look back at him.

#thanks to my beautiful coworkers for brainstorming this idea with me i love y'all #i kind of like this meanie boss joel he's kindaaaaaa #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #fic: boss!joel

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rogersideup · 9 months ago

Text

｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini ♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 3

Expendable

Series Masterlist

Previous part: wine and dine next part: pink peonies

Word Count 5,333

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI. Mentions and descriptions of sexual acts.

Standing in front of a human shaped dummy in the private training room, Steve was showing you all the best ways to direct an attack to assure your opponent goes down, and stays down.

After your mission and injury, Steve was out for a few days on a business trip the same day that you were medically cleared to get back to work. So, it had been a while since the last time you trained together.

You both decided it was a good idea to just take it easy and review what you already know as a means of studying for your final evaluation coming up.

Every agent had to take a final evaluation upon completing every single training course shield had to offer. It was a big deal, and though nobody had any doubts that you were ready for it, it could never hurt to review and improve.

"Knock knock, bitches." Bucky announced, causing both of you to stop.

"Hey, Bucky boy" You greeted him.

"What's going on, Buck?" Steve questioned.

"I dunno, I'm bored." He shrugged. "Can I just sit and watch?"

"Don't you have work to do?" You asked with a giggle.

"I finished!" He defended himself. "You two get to spend so much time without me, it's only fair I get to insert myself here whenever I want to."

"You act like this is personal and not us doing our jobs" Steve raised an eyebrow at him.

"That's a technicality I'm choosing to ignore." Bucky sat on the ground with his back against the wall.

Steve looked at you to make sure it was okay that he sat and watched, but he caught something he wished he hadn't. Just for a split second, you narrowed your eyes at Bucky, and he gave you a very subtle nod back.

He realized that it very well could've been nothing, but it definitely seemed like it was something.

Though Steve didn't bring it up at all, he made mental note of it. He was confident in his deep knowledge of both of his friend's behavior, and he was choosing to trust his gut on that observation.

The rest of your time together, Bucky sat and watched quietly, only occasionally responding to conversations that would break out that weren't work related. Towards the end, Steve wanted to confirm some scheduling, so he cut the physical work a few minutes early.

He sat on the bench with you as you pulled a sweatshirt over your head, and your everyday sneakers onto your feet.

"Okay, so, your final evaluation is one week from today." Steve noted. "So this week will be really simple, we can keep doing this, just reviewing what we've already been over. But our training together is still supposed to run until the end of the month so we have three extra weeks together."

"What am I supposed to do when this ends?! I'll be so bored without you!" You exclaimed.

Steve chuckled. "You should be happy that you survived my course!"

"I mean I am, but then what?"

"Maybe another Avenger will take you under their wing." Steve shrugged.

"I can only think of one Avenger with wings" you noted.

"What do you want to cover in the three weeks together after your evaluation?" He asked.

Your lips formed into a pout. "I know what it should be, but I don't wanna do it"

"Restraints?" Steve questioned sympathetically.

"Restraints... I guess." You grumbled.

Every fighter had a weak spot. Just one thing that made their stomachs turn and their hearts race, something that really scared them regardless of mental work or preparation. Some people couldn't handle heights, didn't do very well when they saw blood, and really freaked out over handling certain weapons.

You just happened to be terrified of being restrained, which unfortunately was a very plausible situation to find yourself in as an agent. There was no reason why you were terrified of it, nothing happened in your life to make you fear it as much as you did. But the thought of having your hands or legs tied made you feel claustrophobic in a way you couldn't even describe using words.

"It'll be scary at first, but we'll work on it" Steve reassured. "Wouldn't you rather learn how to get out of any sort of restraint with someone you trust then find yourself in a situation where you're tied up at the hands of an enemy with no way out?"

"Logically yes, but in reality I would like neither of those things to happen." You responded with a twinge of sarcasm.

Steve laughed, "okay well, I wouldn't like that to happen to you either! But once you learn how to escape from a bunch of different scenarios, you won't be scared of it anymore. Knowledge is power!"

"I know you didn't just knowledge is power me, you loser!" You joked with a snort.

"Oh I certainly did, and I'll do it again." He stated with a smile. "Confidently!"

"Okay, I guess I trust you enough to teach me." You committed to the endeavor.

"Good job, pushing yourself is how you grow better as a fighter." Steve praised your bravery. "We'll start with the easiest and work our way up to the hardest, then you'll be such a pro at it that nothing could ever hold you back."

"Yeah, yeah." You playfully rolled your eyes.

"Then after our training together is officially over, I'm going to block off my schedule these same two hours every day to just cry." Steve put a hand over his heart.

"Can you do that to my schedule too? Maybe we can cry together?"

"I'll see what I can do." Steve agreed, before opening his arms up for a hug. You happily hugged him back. "Good job today! You're going to do great on your assessment no matter who is assigned to asses you. We all know it."

"Thanks for teaching me!" You smiled. "In all seriousness, I've really enjoyed getting to learn from you. Thanks for all the time you've put onto me."

"Anytime, Bug. I've been enjoying it just as much." Then Steve turned to include Bucky in their conversation. "What are you guys up to for the rest of the day?"

"Nothing, well, I think that's pretty obvious considering I'm just sitting here" Bucky shrugged. "Do you guys want to hang out? Maybe we can walk to that cool park a few blocks from here? Watch the sunset and get some fresh air?"

"That sounds good to me." Steve agreed. "Buggy, you in?"

Both boys watched as you stood up and slipped your gym back onto your shoulder. "As fun as that sounds, I can't. You know Agent 563? We made plans to have an early dinner together so I have to get ready to leave here soon."

"Booooo, buzz kill!" Bucky announced dramatically.

"That doesn't mean you can't go on a cute little sunset date with your boyfriend without me, Bucky." You smiled at him. "By all means, you boys have fun."

"I think that's great." Steve told you, ignoring the boyfriend comment. "563 is a great agent, and I think it's important that you girls stick together.

"Lord knows we need some time away from the amount of testosterone in this place." You agreed.

“Even me?" Bucky pouted.

"Even you." You smiled at him, approaching him for a hug that you had to bend over pretty far to get. "And Steve. I love you both, but I need to interact with other people than just you two!"

"Hey! I only talk to you and Steve and I'm doing just fine" Bucky defended himself.

"What about Natasha?" Steve wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at him.

"Don't bring up Natas-" Bucky started passionately

"I'm leaving!" You announced before an argument broke out. "Love you boys! Have fun on your date! I hope you hold hands and kiss each other's foreheads!"

Steve and Bucky stared at each other as you walked out of the room. The door closed behind you, and your foot steps faded until completely inaudible to either of their heightened ears.

"Why are you actually here, Buck?" Steve asked.

"You're in love with her." He claimed deadpan.

Steve's heart sank, but controlled himself the best he could as to not bluff. "Why would you say that?"

"I figured it out last night." Bucky admitted. "I was trying to sleep but my brain wouldn't turn off. I was thinking about the dynamic of our little friend group and it hit me like a train. I had to come confirm it with my own eyes."

Steve puffed out a performative chuckle and put his hands on his hips. "You understand how crazy that sounds, right?"

"Is it though?" Bucky raised an eyebrow while standing up from his spot on the floor. "I never noticed it until today. Your eyes physically twinkle when you look at her. Your cheeks have been pink since I got here, and you never stopped smiling until she left the room. Encouraging, sweet, considerate..."

"It's my job to be encouraging towards her, Buck. I'm her boss." Steve huffed, feeling annoyed and attacked by this conversation.

"Why won't you admit it?" He asked.

Steve stopped in place and noted Bucky's furrowed brows. "Wait, why do you seem so upset about this?"

"I'm not upset." Bucky denied, shaking his head. "But if you're actually pining after her, Punk..."

"What?" Steve's heart was pounding.

"Do you like her?" Bucky asked one more time, his tone was nothing but serious. His face was stone cold.

"I'm her boss." Steve slumped. "There's a power imbalance, I can't break her trust."

"And if she joins the Avengers?" His head tilted.

"She just got out of a relationship."

"It's already been a month since then." Bucky insisted. "Steve, this is between me, you, and the grave. I'm serious."

Steve threw his head back with a groan. It had been a while since he had seen Bucky this worked up about anything, so he knew it was important. But getting the admission to slip past his tongue felt morally wrong and partially impossible.

"Steve."

"Yes." He said simply, staring up at the ceiling.

"How long?"

"How long what?" Steve sighed.

"How long have you had feelings for her?"

"Since the day I met her..." Steve mumbled.

"Oh my-"Bucky rubbed his face with his hand before running his hand through his hair. "You hid it too well."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve froze up as his mind ran laps around Bucky's behavior. He already knew what was coming before he could admit to it.

"You're going to hate us, but I need to tell you something..." Bucky said apologetically.

Meanwhile, you were having a fantastic time with Agent 563, Clara. Though the two of you were friendly around the compound, you never had the chance to actually sit and have a long conversation with her before. Both of you getting the chance to vent about the workplace environment and culture to someone who actually understood what it was like to experience it in the unique way you did was refreshing to say the least.

After dinner neither of you were ready to end the conversation there, so you grabbed ice cream on the way back, and walked the whole way home together. At a certain point, work was a topic long forgotten as you two bonded over other similar interests like movies, hobbies, family, you two even shared the same love for video games.

By the time you made it back to your apartment, there was a smile on your face and a lightness to your heart you hadn't felt in a while. It was obvious that work was making you feel heavy and alone for a while, but you didn't realize how bad it actually was until you got away from it.

That smile was wiped off your face when you opened the door to Steve sitting on your couch with a stiffness in his body and an anger on his face you had never seen before.

"Hey, are you alright?" You immediately asked as his head snapped over to you the second the door opened.

Alarm bells were instantly ringing. Your heart dropped into your stomach, and raced with a speed you didn't quite know was possible.

You had given Steve and Bucky a key to your place just like you had keys to theirs, but the three of you typically hung out at Steve's place. Either of them coming to your apartment was a rare occurrence, and them ever using your key was even more rare.

Steve watched you kick off your shoes and hang up your purse, he felt so many emotions all at once that he couldn't even begin to get the words out.

You hesitantly approached, he still didn't answer. "What's wrong?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" Steve questioned. His tone very obviously gave away his state of emotion, it only made you feel more anxious.

You had a suspicion what this was about, but number one rule as an agent was to never incriminate yourself. "Tell you what?"

"Don't do that with me." Steve denied. "Bucky already told me. I don't understand why you guys would do that and keep it from me."

Your posture slumped knowing that this reaction was exactly why you and Bucky decided to keep a dirty little secret from Steve. So you sat down on an armchair next to the couch he sat on so you could explain.

But, he didn't even give you a chance to defend yourself before he spoke again. "Did either of you even consider how hooking up with each other would affect me?"

"Hey now, let's get some facts straight." You didn't let him go any further. "I feel like the term hooking up is giving what we did way more credit than what it was worth, and yes, we did consider you, which is why we both agreed we weren't going to tell you."

"Great, thank you so much for the consideration. That makes me feel really secure in my friendships with both of you!" Steve said sarcastically, feeling betrayed and admittedly heartbroken beyond words.

"Wait" You shook your head. "I know that sounds bad, but you have to understand that we all have different morals and personal opinions when it comes to sex and we knew you wouldn't understand."

"What is there to not understand?" He questioned. "You two had sex with no regard to how it would effect our friendships with each other."

"First of all, it wasn't sex, there was no penetration." You corrected. "Second of all, we didn't think it would effect our friendships because that's all we are to each other."

"I don't care about the details or what actually went down between you. Had either of you told me you liked each other from the get go it wouldn't have been a problem. I would've been happy for you two." He grumbled.

"We don't like each other." You denied. "We were just at the right place at the right time, things moved fast, and that's that. There's no romance happening, nothing to make social group weird. We all know Bucky likes Natasha."

"Well it's weird now." Steve glared at you.

"What do you want me to do now? It already happened, I can't go back and change it." You noted. "Want me to suck your dick too and call it even?"

"This isn't funny and I really don't appreciate that comment." He scoffed.

"It wasn't weird for you until Bucky opened his mouth, huh?" You asked him. "Was it weird for you two weeks ago when it actually happened?"

"I don't care." He swallowed thickly.

Feeling quite taken back by his behavior, and a little more that a little annoyed that Bucky spilled the beans, your attitude came out. "I'm a grown woman capable of making grown choices, and I don't owe you an explanation of what I choose to do with my body, Steve."

"No, you don't." He agreed, but you made him snap. "But I'm feeling betrayed and disrespected by the two of you, and that, I do feel like I'm owed an explanation for."

"Are you mad at Bucky too?" You snapped right back. "Huh? Did you yell at him?"

"He told me the truth." Steve rationalized.

"Yeah, well I never lied to you." You pointed out. "And why did Bucky feel the need to tell you what we did privately? Huh? Do you feel like I'm allowed to feel betrayed and disrespected for him going against our word?"

"I'm not here to tell you how to feel. I'm here to try and rationalize any of the choices we're making right now." He raised his voice. "My friends are the only family I have, and I refuse to lose a friend I've already lost many times before over a stupid choice."

Just with that one sentence, he broke your heart. "And that right there, is exactly why I thought it was okay in the first place." You growled as all of your self defenses came rushing in to protect you from the words you always knew to be true but never wanted to admit.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm expendable to you and Bucky. I always have been." You stood up from your spot next to him. "You say you're upset because you didn't want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group but guess what? The dynamic has always been you and Bucky hanging out and me just kind've being there. You'll always choose each other, and everyone will always choose someone else over me."

"That's not true." Steve denied. Although he was seeing red with anger, your words made him sad for you.

"I'm never anyone's first choice, Steve. You'll always choose Bucky, Bucky will always choose you. My sister will choose her husband, Harvey will always choose literally anything but me. Nobody else here is willing to be my friend because it's like social suicide, and I had to completely isolate myself from my normal civilian friends for this job." You explained. "I'm the best agent so I get used and abused and harassed out of the pack, but if I become an avenger I'll be singled out as the worst one. You and Bucky claimed you'd always have my back but now I know that's not true."

"Stop saying that." Steve shook his head.

"Nobody wants me." You spat, Steve could tell you believed that to be true.

It shattered his already broken heart, because if you had even the slightest clue of how bad he wanted you, you'd never say those words again. But he couldn't tell you, it simply wasn't an option.

"Nobody wants me ever but that night, Bucky wanted me. So forgive me for latching onto any ounce of human connection I can get these days. That choice was never about you, and I'm sorry that it hurt your feelings but I'm struggling more than I ever have and right now I need to put me first."

"Bucky and I have always loved having you around."

"That might be true, but you proved my point with your own mouth." A single tear fell down your cheek, but you wiped it away just as fast as it fell. "You said you weren't willing to lose Bucky. But right now it feels like you're willing to lose me."

"Don't be mad at him." Steve shook his head.

"He had no right telling you that without consulting me first." You denied. "Unless he broke some kind of code or something there was no rea-" Your own words made reality wash over you like an angry ocean wave trying to swallow you whole. "Oh my god."

"No-" Steve shook his head.

"He broke bro code, didn't he?" You asked Steve, feeling suddenly nauseous.

Steve felt nauseous too. His brain couldn't think of anything but the truth at the moment, but he was horrified. Though he tried to formulate the correct response, nothing felt right at the moment. "You slept in my bed."

"Oh my god." You took a slow step back, unable to process what information you were just receiving. He watched as your face turned just as red as his. "You like me?"

A billion different things came to mind. So many scenarios, so many possibilities, every single time you suppressed your own feelings for Steve because you never thought a man like him could ever love you. It was wrong. Yet all this time, he was harboring a secret of his own. And even then it was still wrong.

"You slept in my bed while you had a boyfriend." Steve spoke so firmly you swore you could feel the bass vibrating the floor.

"This whole time you we're hoping I'd jump right into your arms after breaking things off with Harvey?"

Steve knew where this was going, and the look on your face was just as horrified as he felt. Your lip was wobbling, your hands were shaking, and with every statement you took a step back. "No. But I did think that there was enough happening between us that you wouldn't go for Bucky."

"I slept in your bed because I trusted you, you asshole." You cried, pointing a finger at him. "I slept in your bed while staying with Harvey because he was the only man crazy enough to actually love me and I didn't ever think anyone would be crazy enough to love me ever again."

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His jaw hung open for a moment, before it closed, then opened again. "Well then I guess you were wrong."

"I was wrong." You agreed, wiping your face once more as you watched his eyes tear up. "I trusted you to keep me safe in training, protect me against the people who are harassing me. I trusted you as a friend, a confidant. I even trusted you enough to see me naked, but I was wrong."

"This is exactly why I didn't tell you." Steve mumbled. "Because you trusted me and I didn't want to break it. Bucky didn't know."

"So let me get this straight. You had a secret that you kept from both of us, but Bucky's actions are excusable because he didn't know. My actions are inexcusable but I also didn't know, and we did the exact same thing together?" You asked. "You spend a lot of time talking shit about men's double standards around the compound for someone who turned around and is treating me the exact same way."

"I'm trying to talks through this so we can all go back to being friends."

"You we're never my friend." Your words cut through his heart like a knife. "You we're someone being nice to me in hopes of getting in my pants one day."

"No, that's not true." Steve pleaded, blinking back tears. "Our friendship means a lot to me. That's why I'm this upset in the first place."

"I don't think I can ever go back to being just friends with your or Bucky ever again." You cried. "All of you guys here are the same, I can't do this anymore."

Steve watched you clutch your stomach, as you spun on your heels and walked straight for the door. Little did he know, you felt so nauseous you were trying your hardest not to throw up.

"So that's it?" Steve asked, standing up from the couch. "You're going to throw away everything the three of us have built together as friends because we can't have a rational conversation?"

"A rational conversation? You can't even admit that you're only mad at me because you wanted to get into my pants and now you feel like you can't because Bucky got me first." You turned around to look at him. "That's all I am to anyone. That's the only relationships I've been able to form since I've gotten in this compound. You, Bucky, Harvey. I'm not a human to you guys, I might as well just be a glory hole."

"You're misunderstanding me." Steve shook his head, eyebrows raising upward like a sad puppy.

"That makes two of us." You turned back around and grabbed your packed duffel near the door that you always kept for emergencies.

"I care about you, you know that right?"

"It sure doesn't feel like it right now." You denied his claim.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked. "This is your house."

"The compound has never felt like home to me." The door swung open. You didn't even look back at him before stepping through the doorway. "Don't worry about where I'm going, just say the fuck away from me."

And just like that, the door slammed behind you and rattled the ground. You set off like a storm on the other side, and Steve was left on his own to crumble. Only when he was sure you were gone for good did he let tears fall down his face.

Trying your absolute hardest to hold it together you rushed through the compound hallways, desperately trying to avoid seeing anyone you knew before you made it to your car.

You didn't have it in you to have a face to face conversation with Bucky at the moment, but you did feel like you needed to tell him that the friendship was over, so you called him instead.

"Hey, bug." He answered sympathetically.

"Why did you tell him?" You cried.

"I had to." There was a deep sigh from the phone line. "What did he tell you?"

"Why the fuck are you protecting him?" You asked. It was admittedly a little harsh, but Steve had already amped you up.

"So he told you everything." Bucky stated. "I figured out he was in love with you last night. I couldn't in good conscience keep our secret anymore. He needed to know because the longer we kept it from him the worse this would've been."

"He doesn't love me, Bucky." You denied. "What he did wasn't love. It was control, and it was power, but it's not love."

"I can tell you're upset with him, but I don't think that was his intention." Bucky calmly denied. "Give it a few days to settle, alright? You can be mad at us all you want and I understand why, but emotions are high right now and it seems like both you and Steve are villianizing each other."

"I'm going to be gone for the weekend." You stated, needing to set firm boundaries. "I love you, but you hurt me and I need to get away."

"I'm sorry, bug. I really am." He apologized.

"You, Harvey, and Steve will all be blocked from reaching me unless it's during work hours. And as of now, I can't be a friend of yours."

"I understand" Bucky accepted the repercussions of his actions, though he was sad about it. "I hope you know we care a lot about you. I'm sorry this is all happening this way, but I still want you to be safe. Will you let someone know where you're going? Maybe Commander Bennett?"

"Yeah, I will." You agreed, feeling relieved that at least Bucky was being rational. "I hope in a little while we can figure this out between you and I, but it's going to take some time."

"I hope so too." He agreed. "Stay safe, and be smart. I'm here for you whenever you're ready."

You hung up, drove off, and the second the compound was in your rear view mirror it felt like the weight of the world was off your shoulders.

The weekend came and went simultaneously way too fast, yet painfully slow at the same time. You stayed with your sister who welcomed you with widely opened arms, and really took the time to listen to you when you spoke. She let you get it all out, she wiped your tears, then by morning you'd put on a brave face for Luca.

Spending a lot of quality time with him was truly the only reason you hadn't fully lost your mind. By Monday you felt well enough to face the shit show that was work, but it didn't last very long.

You had made it a whopping 4 hours into the work week before getting sent to Steve's office with an ice pack pressed to your cheek and Commander Bennett opening the door for you.

Steve looked up as the two of you entered, but your eyes were glued to the floor. You didn't need to look around to see where the chair was. You already knew.

He hoped that Bennett couldn't feel the thick tension that filled the room, but it was unusual for him to follow you to his office, and he did take note of how bad you looked.

Well, unfortunately for him he always thought you were stupidly beautiful, but your eyes were swollen. You looked exhausted, drained, and nothing like your usual fiery self.

"We need to do something about 212." Commander Bennett cut straight to the chase. "We can't keep cutting into her work time and having her get hurt because 212 and all his awful friends are picking on her."

"What happened?" Steve asked, trying to see what was under the ice pack.

"I saw them trip her with my own eyes. I don't know if they thought I wasn't watching, or if they thought they were being sly enough that I wouldn't notice, but this cannot continue." He stood firm. "Poor thing smacked her face against the floor, but she still is claiming that reprimanding them will make it worse. So what's the solution?"

Steve sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Do you have any ideas, Commander?"

"Give them one more strike. Let them all know that if they pull this again one more time before evaluation we will disqualify them from taking the test." He suggested. "That includes physical, and verbal attacks."

"That's a really good idea, thank you." Steve agreed. "I'll talk to them today."

"Are you comfortable with that, 306?" Bennett asked you.

"Yes, sir." Your voice was hoarse.

"I'm going to give her the option of cutting her work day short or continuing her training, but no matter what we all know she doesn't need more training." He noted. "I'll leave her with you so you guys can figure out your schedules."

"Thank you." Steve said politely.

Bennett left and the door clicked shut behind him, but your eyes stayed glued to the floor. Your options were go to your apartment and sleep the rest of the miserable daylight away, or spend two hours alone in a room with Steve.

You both already knew what the choice was going to be. There was no need to discuss the schedule change.

Steve knew you hated his guts right now, and he was still feeling hurt by you, but it took a few moments for it to dawn on him that he still needed to be a boss and a leader regardless. So he put his best foot forward.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

There was barely any compassion in his voice, he might as well have been a robot, so you didn't bother responding. You didn't even bother looking at him.

"Would you like to talk about the incident?" He pushed.

"No, Captain." You responded, coming to the same awareness that he was still your boss.

Your use of his title and refusal to look at him felt like a shot to the heart. "Would you like to be relieved of duties until tomorrow?"

"Yes, Captain."

"You are dismissed."

Just like the last time he saw you, you walked out on him without as much as a glance back knowing the next time you'd be forced to see him would be evaluation day.

Next Part: pink peonies

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