#mid-date counter still running | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

penvisions · 6 months ago

Text

there's a place and time {joel miller x reader}

Pairing: Younger / No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader

Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff

A/N: this literally came out of nowhere, a random thought on the way to work and then a manic two hours of writing once i got home. this turned out a little different than first imagined, but i hope it reads well!

navigation || joel miller masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Why don’t you date?”

“Excuse me?” The form crouched in between kitchen counters looked up at you with a raised brow, surely mishearing the question.

“Dating, I know you know what that is.” You repeat yourself as you push your arms back to brace on the counter and hop up on it. The granite of it is cold on your bare thighs, the shorts you were wearing thrown on haphazardly when a panic stricken pair of teenagers had begun to bang on your door in the early afternoon. The words of ‘fire’ and “help!” spurring you into action where you had been napping on your couch. Now though, the oven was off, the blackened frozen pizza still on the rack and covered in foam from the fire extinguisher neither of them had known how to use. Their father had sent them upstairs, thanking you for helping them out and getting it taken care of. “Or the concept at least, yeah?”

“Don’t mean it’s any of your business, little lady.” Joel’s voice leaves no room for further conversation as he realizes you’re more serious than need be. Little quips between you two common, the unspoken understanding of not discussing the reason for your presence in the neighborhood mutual.

“I dunno, I remember you being real keen on the idea of me babysitting.” You take a sip of your soda, swiped from the fridge after everything had calmed down. “Would do you a favor now, should you need the night off for some…fun.”

“Dating and fun are two different things.”

“Dating can be fun, if you do it with the right person.”

“Yeah, and what do you know about that? Saw you move in all by your lonesome. No big, burly man helping you with your boxes.”

The fizzy drink sours on your tongue and you toss him a scowl as he stands. He’s a few feet away but you can feel the warmth of him as he stands at his full height. He’s reaching to close the oven door, the creak of metal on metal loud in the beat of silence.

“You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on your perky ass, Miller.”

“Language, you’re in my house.” His brow furrows and he pins you with a stern look. Something you’d seen him give to his brother, his girls, the neighbor across the way when she wouldn’t take the hint that he didn’t want her dog shit in his yard.

“Old men like yourself deserve to have some fun every once in a while. They deserve happiness too.”

“Even if I did, it’s no concern of yours. Your daddy didn’t help pay for two degrees for you to end up babysitting for grocery money.”

The rebuttal on the tip of your tongue suddenly dissolved as you felt a shiver run down your spine. He’s right, you know he’s right. But you just…you couldn’t even open the envelope with the certificates let alone add them to your resume and begin the arduous task of job hunting.

“Fuck you, I was only offering to help out a neighbor.” The words are rough, rounded out with the weight of too many emotions. You shove off from the counter, abandoning your half-finished drink. A delicacy you enjoyed only over at his house, too expensive for you to indulge in as bills you never anticipated paying became your responsibility.

“I didn’t mean-“ He had the self-awareness to realize he said the wrong thing. His hands coming up from his waist to reach out for you, but you don’t look over your shoulder as you make your way through the kitchen.

“Don’t come to me if you do need someone to look after the girls. I wouldn’t take your money anyway.”

“C’mon now,” His full lips shape around your name, but you’re already out the door. Resisting the urge to let it slam shut behind you, your anger still so sharp and hot. But the girls didn’t deserve to feel it, even the echo of it in the slamming of a door. Despite being a dick, Joel was a good father to them. He’d made his home a nurturing and loving environment. You didn’t want to taint it with your stained hands.

As he stands there in his empty kitchen, the smell of burnt dough, smoke, and ammonia dizzies him as he watches you cross over his yard to yours next door. The blank expression on your face and the faint smears of dried pant all over your legs makes him regret his fast words. He had been going for teasing, but of course they had come out harsh and wounding.

You were someone he didn’t know how to interact with. So sweet and polite with the girls, with the neighbors. But you were a firecracker with him. Teasing, whipping words that rung around his head, and he recalled far too often. The little smirk that pulled at your lips as you said them, waited for his response or sputtering lack of one. His own pulled from him, making him feel like a teenager again, like a young man you hadn’t been suddenly left alone to raise a child. Like his old self, someone who stood a chance with you as you gave him your attention time and time again.

He had only ever met you through the words of your parents, the people who had once occupied the house beside his own. He had moved in with two six-year-olds just as you had shoved off to college upstate. The running joke was that it was perfect timing for him to have missed out on the perfect babysitter.

Graduation is supposed to be a time of celebration and proud smiles, at least that’s what everyone else got. The day you had counted down on the calendar and crossed off the passing ones as it neared was now a blur of too bright colors and phone calls with people telling you things you didn’t want to think about, let alone hear as your new reality.

A car accident, on the drive upstate. Both parents, reckless driver.

A house that had been recently paid off, left to you. Your name already on the deed, something you didn’t want to think about too hard. Close, you had been close with each of them and them as a unit. A small family but understanding. It was yours, the backdrop to your life and suddenly the two people were only memories.

The move had been quick, the apartment you shared with fellow graduate students mostly books and a beautiful desk. The bedframe taken apart to go while the shelves had been left for the next occupants.

You hadn’t shared the news with any of your roommates or friends, not wanting to taint their own celebrations and happy memories of the day you all worked so hard for. Addresses were exchanged, well wishes were meant, but of course it all faded as time had gone on. Their news of job offers and exciting dates had been good to hear, but with no good things to respond with of your own, it was hard to feel the same way about them as you once had. They reached out, worry coloring their words, which made you feel even worse.

It haunts you for days, as you seal yourself into the home that is now yours alone. The paint slathered on canvas dries and the brushes coated in it turn into hardened caps over the bristles. You’re allowing things to sit for too long, the water evaporating in the cups you use to rinse between swatches of color. The open paint tubes oxidizing and becoming unsalvageable. But you have no control.

The bed becomes damp with nights of sweat, from your tossing and turning body as the heat rises and the air conditioning that needs to be repaired is just another phone call. You don’t even think you know where your phone is. It can’t bear bad news if you don’t answer it. It can’t carry the end of your world if you don’t let it.

There’s a sharp knock on the door at some point, in the midst of the haze of days after storming out of Joel’s kitchen. You hadn’t been able to dissect the sounds of life going on outside your closed windows.

But it had, to the point where now someone was calling on you to make you return to it.

Shrugging on a robe, you hold it tight to your aching body as you push up from the bed. Bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor as the heat fills the home.

“What?” You can’t help but bark as you swing the door open, only to find a concerned Joel on the porch, with your phone in his hand.

“I found this in the kitchen, must’ve fallen off the counter in the madness of getting the fire out and callin’ me.” He holds it out to you, but you don’t move to take it. “Figured you needed it, there’s a lot of missed calls and voicemails. I may have left a few too, to check on ya. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Been here, painting.”

“Okay, that’s…that’s good. Got everything you need? Food, water, someone comin’ to fix the A/C?” It’s an apology in the only way Joel Miller is capable of giving, the need to make sure someone is getting what they need, that they’re taken care of. He’s a good provider, to his girls, to his brother, to the neighborhood when he’s not beat down from long days in the sun with concrete and paint dried to his skin, with wood shavings and stain splotched on his jeans.

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m my own person.”

Your name leaves his mouth on a sigh.

“I know that, but your parents…I know that kinda thing is-“

“I’m fine. Thanks for returning this.” You snatch it from his hand and go to close to door, not willing to hear what he has to say on the loss of your parents. For his credit, he let’s you. Knowing that you’re going through the motions, through the event in your own way. It doesn’t stop him from speaking loud enough for you to hear him through the door.

“The girls will be by with dinner later! Try to be nice to them, they ain’t me!”

The meal delivered by two smiling teenagers does lift your spirits a bit, even if all you do is shower and do a few loads of laundry. It’s a long process, the climb out of the hole that you had found yourself in.

Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. You’re back to quipping across the yard with the man. His daughters delighting in the comraderies that underlies it all. It’s the height of summer now, the girls spending time with you to try their hand at painting. Sarah is better with bursts of color that compliment each other, vaguely floral. While Ellie is better with a muted palette imposed between detailed line art.

They always thank you for the time and attention, offering to help you clean up or tidy the house in exchange for watching over them when you notice Joel’s truck is still gone from their own driveway until late. They aren’t helpless, but you know what loneliness feels like and you don’t want them to become familiar with it.

You finally open the envelope containing your degrees, the last letters from your friends and pen down long responses. The stamps cute as you drop them off at the post office, the ornate certificates framed and hung above the desk in your father’s old office alongside his own.

Joel joins them most days, mid meal if he can make it in time. Food finding it’s way into your kitchen, something you’re sure is the combined effort of two pairs of small hands and one pair of big hands. The least you could do is turn it into something for everyone involved to enjoy.

But just as things seem to progress, they fall back apart. It wasn’t over a throwaway comment this time, though, but a piece of mail delivered from a local gallery asking after your willingness to partake in an exhibit. That they expressed their deepest condolences in this trying time.

The paint dries up again, another set of brushes left to ruin. The door goes unanswered, as does the phone you can hardly stand to look at. The lights don’t glow in the windows once the sun sets, no music is heard from behind thin screens, nor the sound of you humming along to it.

The house becomes a burden once again, shielding you from the world you as you feel the loss of your parents all over again.

You don’t hear the door open from where you’re sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, the shower is running but you didn’t make it under the spray. You’re fully clothed, having reached down underneath the vanity for a bottle of shampoo when your fingers had brushed over something else. A bottle of your mother’s favorite perfume. The one that lingered in every room she occupied, on every piece of clothing she adorned. It was her, the perfect encapsulation of who she was.

And it was staring at you inconspicuously from the shelf. The mere sight of it tearing the wound open once again and making it hard to breath.

That’s where Joel finds you. In tears over something as trivial as a tiny glass bottle. But he doesn’t bat an eye, he’s taking in the scene and shutting off the shower in a few easy steps.

“Hey now, come ‘ere, darlin’,” He’s crouching down beside you, hands reaching for your shaking body.

He’s so gentle, so soft as he pulls you up from the tiled floor and into his chest. Leaning back against rhe now closed vanity to support your weight. One hand on the back of your head, holding it to his chest, pleading with you to match his breathing so you don’t hurt yourself.

“Datin’ is hard, you’re right.” His words make you pause, confusion crowding out the wetness lingering in your eyes. The words from a conversation long ago pulling you out of your breakdown, the casual way he continues it.

“It is.” You insist, voice small and muffled as you refuse to pull your face from where it’s pressed against the warmth of his chest.

“Maybe…. maybe you’d be kind enough to try it with this grumpy old man. I’d sure like to give it a shot with someone like you.”

“I ain’t nothin’ special. Just the neighbor girl your dead friends talked about too much.”

“They loved you, darlin’. With everythin’ they had.” He holds tight to the hand you move underneath one of his. Seeking him out, to feel his skin on your own. “You are special, those paintings they showed me, you got a gift, honey.”

“Gifts don’t mean nothin’ when you got no one to share them with.”

“You share ‘em with the girls, they loved coming over here to spend time with you. Share ‘em with me, if you want. The girls and I are in your corner, we got you.”

“You don’t…you don’t want to date me. Every boy-“

“Boys don’t know how to date, that’s only something us old men know how to do. Will you let me show you, how it feels to be taken care of and looked after? To feel appreciated and like you aren’t a hindrance on nightly plans to play fuckin’ video games?”

“I like video games,” You sniffle, voice gaining strength as the conversation goes on. He’s soothing you, even as he just sits on the floor with you in his lap, his arms around you and your body pressed up against him. It’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in months. And it’s just Joel being Joel, it’s just you being you.

“Show me, if you want. Let me get to know you, let me show you what it’s like to be loved, not just sought after for a night of fun.”

“I don’t date old men.”

“No?”

“You’re not that much older than me, so I wouldn’t really call you old.”

“Cause then you’d have to admit you’re old too, huh?” He reads the meaning behind the change of thought, as if he was in your head right there alongside you.

“Yeah, we ain’t old. Life just beat us down, but damn if it didn’t touch your perky ass.” You reach a hand down from where it’s cradled between your chests, to pinch at where his backside it firmly planted on the floor. He jolts a bit, not expecting the action. But his rumbling laugh lightens the air around you both even more so.

“You goin’ soft on me, a compliment like that is makin’ my heart pick up. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, cause you’re a big ole sap.” You can’t help the breathy chuckle that escapes past your lips, the twitch of a smile trying to break out. You can, indeed, feel the way his heart is thudding in his chest. The truth of your words and his making you feel some of the weight lift from your own.

“You ain’t gotta clue how sappy I could me, lemme show you, huh?”

“Only if you promise it’ll make me roll my eyes and groan.” You lean back enough to see his face, the roll of your eyes up to take in his hopeful expression allowing you to know how much he means it. Your own heartbeat picks up and you swear he can feel it too, if the crook of his lips underneath his mustache is any indication.

“Only if you promise to have a smile on your face while you do it.” He leans in, nose brushing against yours. The action so soft, so welcome after the isolation you had subjected yourself to.

“Deal.” You breathe out against his lips.

“It’s a deal then.” He presses them to yours, and damn it all, but it does bring a smile to your face.

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @littlemisspascal @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker

@joelsgreys @tonysopranosrobe @morallyinept

475 notes · View notes

bebe-writes-stuff · 8 months ago

Text

Baji x reader smut

I'm not even gonna lie, after i saw this panel, I COULD NOT STOP THINKING ABOUT BAJI, BRO LOOKKKK

HE PICKED THAT THANG UPPP, w one hand is crazyyy.

"Remind me why we're here again, Kei?" you asked, stifling a yawn in mid-sentence.

Baji rolled his eyes for what seemed like the billionth time. "I already told you, Y/N, Mom wanted me to run out and get some groceries."

"Ah, I remember now. But, last time I checked, that sounded like a YOU problem," you retorted, causing him to frown.

"You know, you should really stop being an ass," he commented, picking up some fresh vegetables and placing them in the shopping basket.

"Huh, you literally dragged me out of bed in the middle of the day to come with you! I was sleeping! You're the ass," you whispered, trying to keep your voice down as a few shoppers glanced your way.

"Tch, whatever. I didn't want to come here on my own. It's more fun with you," he pouted, his tone softening.

Feeling a pang of guilt almost instantly, you wrapped your hands around his arm. "Aww, look at you being adorable," you teased, your voice laced with affection.

His face flushed a light pink, and he mumbled, "You're so corny." Despite his words, he pulled you closer to him, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

As you both continued through the aisles, you noticed how he carefully selected each item, making sure to get exactly what his mom needed. There was something endearing about his dedication, even if it was just for a simple grocery run.

Eventually, you made your way to the checkout counter. The cashier scanned the items while you and Baji exchanged playful glances and whispered jokes. When everything was bagged up and paid for, the two of you headed towards the exit, arms full of grocery bags.

Stepping outside, you both breathed in the fresh air. "Finally," you sighed, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face.

As you walked, you suddenly noticed that Baji was still carrying the shopping basket. "Uh, Kei, we still have the basket."

He looked down and groaned. "Fuck me. I'll take it back. You wait here."

You nodded, watching as he turned back towards the store. Leaning against a building, you pulled out your phone to pass the time. Moments later, a group of kids your age approached, their eyes lighting up with recognition.

"Hey, isn't that Baji's girlfriend?" one of them sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.

Before you could respond, they started crowding around you, their taunts growing bolder. "What's it like dating a thug?" one asked, while another added, "Bet he drags you into all kinds of trouble."

"Fuck off," you snapped, trying to keep your voice steady. "You don't know anything about us."

"Oh, feisty," one of them laughed, stepping closer. "Let's see how you are without your boyfriend around."

Just as you were about to defend yourself, Baji was back, his eyes blazing with fury. In an instant, he was on them, fists flying with brutal precision. They didn't stand a chance. They were on the ground, groaning in pain, before they even knew what hit them.

Breathing heavily, Baji finally stepped back, his knuckles bloodied. He turned to you, his expression a mix of rage and regret. "Let's go," he said, his voice tight.

The walk back to his house was silent. You could feel the tension radiating off him, his usually confident stride stiff with anger. When you arrived, he handed the groceries to his mom without a word and headed straight to his room. You followed, closing the door behind you.

Inside, Baji sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have let that happen."

"It's not your fault," you said softly, sitting next to him. "They were out of line."

He shook his head, his jaw clenched. "I dragged you out there. I should've protected you."

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I'm not hurt, Kei. I'm right here."

Baji pulled you closer, almost onto his lap, his eyes dark with a mix of emotions. Without another word, he captured your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss. His anger from earlier seemed to fuel the intensity, his lips pressing hard against yours as his hands threaded into your hair, pulling you even closer. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his fingers tugged at your hair, sending shivers down your spine.

You moaned into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shirt as you tried to keep up with his fervor. His hands roamed your body, one sliding down to your waist while the other moved to grope your chest, making you gasp. The sound seemed to encourage him, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with possessive fervor.

Finally, he broke the kiss, both of you panting for breath. His dark eyes locked onto yours, his voice low and husky as he spoke. "I'm going to mark you, Y/N. So everyone knows you belong to me."

Before you could respond, he leaned in and sank his teeth into your neck, the sharp sensation making you yelp. He soothed the sting with his tongue, trailing kisses along your neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of love marks in his wake. You bit your lip, trying to stifle your moans, knowing his mom was just downstairs.

"Kei," you whispered, your voice trembling with both pleasure and concern. "Your mom..."

"Shh," he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. "Just try to be quiet."

His lips moved from your neck to your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice rough with desire, "I can't get enough of you."

You shifted slightly on his lap, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the movement only made you more aware of how hard he was. A soft moan escaped your lips before you could stop it, causing Baji to pause and look up at you, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"What's wrong?" he teased, his hands sliding under your shirt to caress your bare skin. "Does it feel good?"

You nodded, closing your eyes, surrendering to the sensations. Baji's hands slid lower, tracing the waistband of your jeans before slipping inside, his fingers brushing against your wet folds, before finally pushing them inside your tight cunt. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily, and he took that as encouragement, his fingers moving with deliberate, torturous slowness.

"Kei," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please…"

He groaned softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I love hearing you beg," he murmured, his fingers picking up speed, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure. "You're so beautiful when you're desperate for me."

--ALRIGHT THATS ENOUGH, I'll probably make a part 2 and continue this bcs I like where this went ngl, let me know if yall liked it --

836 notes · View notes

wolverigrl · 4 months ago

Text

Hormonal

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: I can't anymore with this man. I'm not quite sure with this part, bit I still you enjoy it!

Warnings: mentions of Body Dysmorphic Order, angsty, a bit of fluff

Enjoy!

Previous Part

---------------------------------------------------

It had been almost two years since Hugh and I started dating, and life had finally settled into a wonderful routine. After the initial whirlwind of being labeled Hollywood's Power Couple, the constant media attention had finally calmed down. But even though the paparazzi had shifted their focus to new drama, we were still very much the couple that people looked up to - whether we liked it or not.

Hugh and I had been filming The Greatest Showman together, and it had been a dream come true for both of us. Playing Charity Barnum alongside him as P.T. Barnum was not only a professional highlight but a personal one. Every day, we got to share scenes, rehearse, and spend quality time together on set.

I'd also gotten close to his kids, Oscar, who was 15, and Ava, who was 10. Oscar was a typical teenager - sometimes distant but warm when it mattered. We bonded over our shared love for movies and music, and I had taken him to a few smaller premieres, which was pretty cool for him. Ava, on the other hand, was full of energy, always dragging me into whatever creative project she had going on. She loved to ask me about the costumes on set, always asking if I could sneak her something "cool" from the wardrobe department. We'd grown really close, and I adored being part of their lives.

Even Hugh's ex-wife, Deborra, had been nothing but gracious. I was worried about how our relationship might affect things with her, but she was kind and supportive from the start. We'd even had a few chats over coffee, which eased any awkwardness. There was no competition or resentment - just a shared love for Hugh and the kids.

But lately, something had shifted inside me. It started with the paparazzi photos. They had caught me in unflattering poses or oversized sweaters, and suddenly, the media was speculating that I might be pregnant.

One morning, while Hugh was making coffee, I decided to make light of the rumors.

I sat at the kitchen counter, scrolling through my phone and looking at the latest article headline: 'Is y/n pregnant? Signs Point to Yes!' I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, babe." said casually, glancing at him as he poured his coffee, "Apparently I'm Pregnant."

Hugh, mid-sip, immediately choked on his coffee, sputtering as he tried to regain his composure. "What?" he coughed out, his eyes wide in shock before a laugh escaped him. "What are you talking about?"

I snickered, showing him the article. "According to the tabloids, we're expecting!"

Hugh’s eyes sparkled with amusement, but then he tilted his head, a hint of concern creeping into his expression. “Well, your period’s still coming, though... right?”

I froze. The smile on my face faltered for a moment, and I realized, in that split second, that my period hadn’t come. It was late. Very late. I hadn’t even thought about it properly until now.

I must’ve looked shocked, because Hugh’s smile faded slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Right?”

I snapped out of it quickly, forcing a nod. “Yeah, of course. It’s just late.”

He stared at me for a moment, searching my face as if trying to figure out if I was serious. Then, with that signature Hugh charm, he broke into a grin, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close.

"How do they come up with this stuff?" He came over and kissed the top of my head. "You think they'd run out of things to speculate about?"

I laughed along, but something about the rumors hit closer to home than I was letting on. My body had changed recently. Despite working out regularly and eating well, I had gained a little weight. It wasn't much, but enough to make me feel insecure. And with the tabloids dissecting every detail of my appearance, it had started to eat away at me.

Hugh didn't seem to notice - or, if he did, he never mentioned it. He was as loving and affectionate as ever, but for the last few weeks, I had started pulling away from him, especially when things got intimate. I couldn't help but think about my body every time his hands roamed over my skin. I wasn't the woman I was when we first met, and I hated that it was getting to me.

That night, after we'd finished filming, we finally had some quiet, time together. Hugh was in a playful mood, and as we curled up on the couch, a glass of wine in my hand, I could feel him inching closer. His fingers brushed lightly along my thigh, and I leaned into him, enjoying the warmth of his body against mine.

"I miss this, love." he murmured against my ear, his voice deep and sultry. His lips trailed soft kisses along my neck, and I shivered under his touch. His hand slowly slipping under my shirt, inching up toward my skin.

My breath hitched, and for a moment, I wanted to lose myself in him. But as his hand started to lift my shirt, I tensed

"Hugh.." I whispered, grabbing his wrist to stop him.

He slightly pulled back, his brow furrowed. "What's wrong?" I swallowed hard, unable to meet his eyes. "I can't right now."

His frustration was palpable as he sat up, running a hand through his hair. "You've been pulling away from me for weeks, y/n. Every time I try to be close to you, you shut me out."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I blinked them away, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's not you." I said quietly. "It's me."

Hugh sighed, his expression softening as he reached for my hand. "Then tell me. Talk to me. What's going on?"

I hesitated, my heart racing in my chest. I didn't want to burden him with my insecurities, but I couldn't keep bottling it up either.

"I've gained weight." I admitted in a small voice, my fingers twisting nervously in my lap. "I've been working out, eating right, doing everything I'm supposed to, and my body's still changing. I feel.. different. And every time you touch me, l just.. I don't feel like myself."

Hugh's face softened as he pulled me into his arms. "Y/n." he whispered, his voice full of love, "you're beautiful and I don't care if your body changes. I love you, all of you. always will."

Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I buried my face in his chest, grateful for his warmth, his understanding. "I know." I whispered, my voice breaking. "But it's hard. The media the comments, the expectations.. just don't feel like I measure up anymore."

Hugh tilted my chin up, his eyes locked with mine. "You don't have to measure up to anything. You're enough, y/n. You've always been enough."

I nodded, wiping my tears away. His words brought comfort, but the insecurities still lingered in the back of my mind. I knew I had to work through them, but having Hugh by my side made it feel a little less scary.

The next morning I woke up feeling lighter as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I decided to take control of the narrative. If people were going to speculate about my body, I will be the one to set the record straight.

I grabbed my phone and took a deep breath before snapping a photo of myself in my workout clothes. I wasn't hiding anything. No filters, no posing to hide the weight I'd gained. Just me, as I was.

I opened Instagram, uploaded the photo, and typed my caption:

>>y/n instagram: Alright, let's clear some things up. No, I'm not pregnant. Yes, I've gained some weight. And honestly? That's okay. Bodies thange, hormones do their thing and sometimes despite working out and eating right, your body just decides to go through a phase. I've been feeling insecure lately, and I know I'm not alone in that. But here's the thing - I'm still me. I still love my body, and I'm working on being kinder to myself every day. So if anyone else is out there feeling the same way, just know you're not alone. We're all more than our appearances, but we're allowed to love ourselves in every stage we go through.

Now, if you'll excuse me, l'm off to eat a piece of cake. No guilt, just love.😋<<

I hit post, my heart racing as I watched the comments flood in. The outpouring of support was immediate.

>>logan1noir: Thank you for being so real! You're beautiful no matter what!<<

>>celesty634: This made me cry, I've been feeling the same way, and it helps to know I'm not alone❤️<<

>>dcxmrvl22: You are GORGEOUS! Keep shining, girl🫶🏻<<

>>chrisevans: Proud of you!!❤️<<

>>blakelively: How do you look good in everything??<<

>>vancityreynolds: As your humble friend, I demand you to stop setting impossible standards for the rest of us!<<

>>zendaya: QUEEN👑<<

>>thehughjackman: Always proud of you my love❤️<<

Later that evening, Hugh and I hosted a small dinner at our house. Just a few close friends - Blake, Ryan, Zendaya, Zac Efron and some other close cast members were there.

The wine was flowing, and the laughter was contagious. But all day, I had been feeling a little off. I was moody, switching from happy to sad in the span of minutes, and I was feeling unusually hormonal.

Hugh noticed, of course. He always did. And I couldn't help but tease him throughout the evening. Little touches here and there, suggestive whispers when no one was looking. His reactions were priceless, the way his jaw would clench, his eyes darkening with desire.

"You're playing with fire, darling." he whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin as we stood by the kitchen island.

I smirked, leaning closer to him, my lips brushing against his ear. "What are you going to do about it?"

Hugh shot me a look that sent a chill down my spine, his hand resting on my lower back, his fingers teasing the hem of my dress. But before he could answer, Ryan came strolling over, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Ryan teased, raising an eyebrow as he eyed the two of us. "You two seem a little preoccupied tonight."

I laughed, pulling away from Hugh slightly, but not before I felt his hand give my waist a playful squeeze. Hugh shook his head, his expression amused but clearly flustered by the interruption.

"Just enjoying the evening." Hugh replied with a chuckle, trying to act casual, though I could see the heat still lingering in his eyes.

Ryan leaned in, lowering his voice dramatically. "I hope you two are careful, though. With all that tension, you might just end up giving those pregnancy rumors something real to work with."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, Blake sauntered over, a knowing smile on her face. "He's right, you know.: she said, her eyes twinkling with humor. "You two have that look - like you're up to something."

Blake's eyes lingered on me a little too long, and I noticed her frown slightly, as if reading something in my expression that I hadn't yet figured out myself.

Later in the evening, after dinner was served and the conversation had flowed naturally from movie projects to family gossip, I excused myself to the kitchen for a moment to gather my thoughts. I was feeling off - moody, emotional, and kind of disconnected.

Blake followed me, her eyes sharp as she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. "Okay, spill it."

I blinked at her you talking "What are you talking about?"

Blake tilted her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "You've been acting... odd tonight. Are you sure you're not pregnant?"

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. "Blake, no! I'm definitely not pregnant! I even joked with Hugh about that this morning."

She studied me for a moment, her gaze still concerned. "It's just... I've been pregnant three times now, and I can spot the signs. You're giving off all the vibes."

I sighed, leaning against the counter and rubbing my temples. "I don't know.. I mean I've been feeling weird lately, but I just thought it was stress. l've gained some weight, my moods are all over the place, but I don't think I'm pregnant."

Blake softened, placing a hand on my arm. "If you ever wanna talk about it, you know I'm here, right?"

I smiled at her, appreciating her concern. "Thanks, Blake. I think I just need to figure out what's going on with my body."

The night ended on a good note, with everyone laughing and chatting as they left. Ryan, of course, couldn't resist making one last joke. "Don't go making any little Jackmans tonight, okay? Or at least wait until we're gone."

I rolled my eyes, waving them off, "Shut it, Ryan!"

Once the house was quiet and the dishes were done, I finally let out a deep breath, grateful for the silence. But as soon as I sat down on the couch, I felt a familiar cramp in my lower abdomen.

I froze, my eyes widening. "No way!"

I hurried to the bathroom, and sure enough, there it was. My period had arrived. I wasn't pregnant.

Relief washed over me, mixed with an odd sense of joy. After all the speculation and confusion, my body had finally given me an answer.

I returned to the living room, finding Hugh still in the kitchen, cleaning the last wine glasses. He looked up as I entered, and I couldn't help but grin.

"What's with the smile?" he asked, setting the glasses down and coming over to me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him softly. "You're going to laugh." Hughs brow furrowed slightly. "Why?"

"Well I just got my period!"

Hugh blinked, then laughed softly, pulling me closer.

"Well, that's good to know. l'm glad you're not stressed about it anymore."

"Me too!" I said, leaning into his embrace, feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

He kissed my forehead, his hands resting on my hips as he looked down at me, his voice soft and teasing. "So, since you're really not pregnant and everything's fine.. does that mean we can stop avoiding each other now?"

I looked up at him, biting my lip playfully. "You know I was thinking the same thing."

Hugh's eyes darkened with that similiar heat, and before I knew it, he had me pinned against the kitchen counter, his lips crashing into mine.

His hands roamed over my body, pulling me closer, and this time, I didn't stop him. I didn't feel the need to. I felt confident, desired, and most importantly, loved. As his hands slipped under my shirt, his touch igniting a fire inside me, I let myself give in to him completely.

"Hugh..." I whispered, my voice breathless as his lips trailed down my neck.

He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, his own filled with love and desire. "I've missed this. I've missed you."

I smiled, my heart swelling with affection for the man in front of me.

"I'm not going anywhere."

And with that, we lost ourselves in each other, the weight of the past few weeks melting away as we found comfort and passion in each other's arms. The insecurities, the rumors, the stress - it all disappeared as we reminded each other of what really mattered.

In the next morning, the world felt a little brighter. I've got an overwhelming support after my post and Hugh was by my side through everything. We spent the morning lazily wrapped up in each other, laughing and talking about the future.

Hugh kissed me softly, his hand gently tracing patterns on my skin.

"You know, I love you just the way you are, right? No matter what."

I smiled, pressing a kiss to his chest.

"I know and I love you too. Always."

Our love had been tested, but we came out stronger than ever. And as I lay there in his arms, I knew that no natter what life threw our way, we would face it together.

---------------------------------------------------

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07

Next part

#hugh jackman #marvel #wolverine #x men #hugh #jackman #hugh jackman imagines #hugh jackman x you #hugh jackman x reader #fluff #angst #logan howlett #hugh jackedman #y/n #x reader #ryan reynolds #blake lively #chris evans #the greatest showman

334 notes · View notes

hometoursandotherstuff · 5 months ago

Text

Who doesn't love a perfectly preserved time capsule? This 1968 beauty in Rockford, IL is like stepping back in time. 4bds, 4ba, $450K.

The small entrance has tiled flooring to protect the carpet that runs all through the house.

Why is it always green? This was a dramatic home when it was new- stone fireplace, sunken living room, and wrought iron railings were the height of fashion.

The living area is huge. Note the large stone bench matching the fireplace and the cornice boards that discreetly hide the unsightly curtain rods.

The fireplace stone continues and has a huge mirror. In the corner is shelving and 2 steps up to the dining room.

The dining room has dated curtains that the buyer will inherit. I love the kitty-corner table. That was a common placement in mid-century style.

Next comes the kitchen. Actually, they must've updated it b/c I don't think that 2-tone cabinets were a thing yet. But, the ditzy, small, busy print of the wallpaper with matching shades was definitely the style. Note the original avocado dishwasher and dust shelving above the upper cabinetry, that was later replaced by soffits.

Wait a minute, I'm seeing props here- there's a new dishwasher and new ovens, but they kept the old avocado ones. I wonder if they work or, if it's just nostalgia. There are also 2 cooktops. Wow, they really preserved everything.

Look at the green glass.

Large laundry room off the kitchen.

Oh, look, an avocado washer/dryer set. This is amazing. And, look at the old sink. I hope someone who loves it, buys it, b/c it was so lovingly cared for.

Nice large everyday dining area has a pony wall separating the family room. So much green everywhere. I wonder if this set came that way or if they painted it.

Another stone fireplace flanked by shelving. Knotty pine walls, and folding shutter doors- all fashions of the past. I can't believe that they have the Colonial furniture that was so popular at the time. Even though it was all the rage, you don't see it around anymore. According to the listing, there is going to be an estate sale, so this furniture will be available.

The primary bedroom is pretty big. Geez, there's carpeting everywhere and some of it is looking gnarly.

It has an en-suite, which is unusual. Look at that fancy cabinet. Green laminate counter, too.

This bedroom is also pretty big. Look at the consummate girl's white bedroom furniture of the mid-century.

The den has a big old map probably with countries that don' t even exist anymore.

More bedrooms on the 2nd fl.

Oh, look at that! A hope chest! They were popular for a teenage girl to receive as a gift. Then, she would put in blankets, etc., in the hopes of one day getting married and using them. I can't get over the historic furniture in this place.

And, then they've got a big family room up here. Wow, this house has so much furniture and tchotchkes.

Winter? No problem. Just set the lawn furniture up in the basement.

There's also a finished part of the basement. This is a craft room, and there is also a canning room.

Look at the antique freezer on the right. This place is a museum.

This part of the basement isn't finished even though it has a brick fireplace. No matter, they still used it as a family room, anyway.

According to the listing, this is a 2 car garage, called a "cottage garage," b/c I guess it looks like a residence.

This cool log cabin on the property is used as a playhouse, according to the listing.

Yeah, but look at it, it's really a residence.

There's a lot of land, 3.50 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/6151-Newburg-Rd-Rockford-IL-61108/5537324_zpid/

#time capsule homes #time capsules #mid century modern homes #houses #house tours #home tour

250 notes · View notes

lyjen · 3 months ago

Text

Be safe | Eddie Diaz

Summary: Eddie goes on a coffee run for the team, but when he's texting his girlfriend while waiting on the order, a robber starts threatening customers and the workers. Eddie tries to disarm the robber, but when he tries, he gets shot. (Y/n) suffers from a severe panic attack when she gets the call.

A request by: @megafandomsxassemble

Taglist: @oliviah-25 @shauna-carsley

Feel free to send in request in my “Ask me a question” section! 🩷

9-1-1 Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Eddie hopped down the step from the engine, and landed with both his feet on the sidewalk. It was his turn to go on a coffee run today. He didn’t have a standard day he had to go on the coffee run, but they did have a standard order for who was going inside. They couldn’t just go in there with the entire crew, that wasn’t practical.

So now they had a standard order, Eddie knew he came after Hen and after Eddie came Bobby. That’s the only thing he had to memorize. So since last shift it was Hen’s turn, now it’s Eddie’s turn.

Eddie walked a few meters down the street, passing four or five shops as he eventually reached the coffee company.

He pulled the door open as someone was just on his way towards the exit. Softly he could hear the bell being triggered as he pulled the door. “After you” he said with a gentle smile, as he held open the door for the woman who was old enough to be his mother, maybe even his grandmother.

The woman smiled at him and thanked him for holding the door open for her, and he stepped inside. He spotted quite a line for the orders. Luckily after Ravi’s record of fastest coffee run, the rest of the crew started doing the same. Ordering online.

He walked towards the end of the counter, where the waiting area was. He quickly slid his phone from his pocket. The phone instantly lit up as he held the phone in front of his face. Eddie scrolled through some of the notifications he had gotten while he was on call.

But there surely was one message he couldn’t wait to open. He had a few messages from (Y/n). He unlocked his phone, went straight towards his texts and opened the chat between him and (Y/n).

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at his phone as he saw the picture from Chris and (Y/n) in the car. He loved that his son and his girlfriend had such a good bond. Chris had never been good with changes, but something was different when (Y/n) came into both of their lives.

They met at one of Bobby’s and Athena’s backyard parties, the one where Buck, her brother, almost died from a blood clot. Maddie and (Y/n) brought Buck over to the Grant-Nash's house, and that’s where he met (Y/n).

He remembered the day like it was yesterday, although it had been three years already.

An even wider smile formed itself onto Eddie’s face as he saw her text message which she sent after the photo. “Going shopping with Chris, be safe ❤️”

Oh how he loved her for saying her standard words whenever he was on shift. Be safe. Everytime when he was on shift and he called her, she’d say that.

It was kind of a good luck wish, (Y/n) knew the consequences of dating a firefighter. He had told her as soon as they became close enough, that one day he might not make it home. But she already knew that from her brother.

But still that was different.

But something told Eddie that she was the reason he’d make it home after every shift.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard of his phone as he thought of the right words to say. He wanted to tell her he was okay, and that he was going to call her as soon as they arrived back at the station.

But as his fingers tapped across the screen to type his message, mid sentence his eyes shot up from his phone.

“Excuse me? What do you think you’re doing?” the woman spoke up, trying to get the attention of the man in front of her.

The man in front of her was wearing a black hoodie, with the hood over his head. “You can’t just cut the line like that!” the woman continued as she tried again to get some kind of reaction from the man. But he didn’t give a kick.

The woman turned to the people in the line behind her, “can you believe this?” she asked the other customers behind her. Other customers also shook their heads in agreement, he should get in line just like any other person did.

Eddie watched the entire scene going as he held his phone in his hand.

She turned back to the back of the man. “Hello!” her voice sounded annoyed as she tapped his shoulder. But still, no reaction. “Get to the back of the line, we’re all waiting here!” she said, with a sigh falling off her lips.

And that’s the moment when something inside of the man snapped. He turned around fast, and lost his cool. He reached his right hand out to his back as he fished out a gun that was probably hanging between the rim of his baggy jeans and the skin on his back.

Suddenly Eddie was back in action again. He quickly placed his phone back into his pocket as he crouched down to the floor.

The man started threatening the lady behind him, “Back the fuck up!” he groaned as he held the gun next to his head, pointing at the woman. Intimidating, he walked straight towards the woman. While different reactions came from the customers. Some gasped, others screamed, and a few didn’t know how to react.

He walked towards the woman until she tripped over her own feet and fell on her bum. He stopped for a few seconds and just aimed the gun at the woman. She was terrified, she squeezed her eyes closed as she waited for the man to pull the trigger, accepting her faith.

He just smiled at her, like a psychopath. And then he turned on his heels and pointed the gun at the cashier behind the counter. “You!” He yelled as he walked back to the counter. “Give me everything you got!” He shouted as he motioned with his gun towards the money tray.

The cashier behind the counter looked at the man, and froze. His eyes wide as if he had seen a ghost, or maybe ten ghosts.

“Come on! Hurry up!” He said with an annoyed tone overruling his voice when the man behind the counter didn’t move fast enough for him.

The line behind him, including the woman, was gone like it vanished into thin air.

Eddie felt the adrenaline rushing through his body as he watched the entire scene in front of him. He couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.

But he also couldn’t just stand up and run towards the man, tackling him. He needed a plan, and he needed it now. Especially because his back was faced towards Eddie.

Eddie used the adrenaline in his body and turned it into courage so he could sneak his way towards the robber. Eddie didn’t have any weapons, he wasn’t a police officer. The only thing he got was a radio, which he couldn’t use, he couldn’t risk radioing his team or dispatch, what if the guy heard? Because if he did Eddie would put everybody in the store in danger. And maybe turn this robbery into a hostage situation.

Eddie was still crouched down as low as he could, as he slowly and quietly moved towards the robber. He could hear nervous whimpers all around him, but he didn’t let that stop him. Eddie moved closer, and closer, slow, but not too slow and silent. He prayed for his shoes to not start squeaking against the floor of the shop.

A few feet before Eddie reached the robber he stopped, if he did two steps now he’d be in handreach for him. He needed to act swiftly. Eddie quickly stood straight, and placed his left arm around the robber’s neck as he yanked the right arm with the gun with full force onto the desk of the shop.

The cashier let out a scream as he ducked down to the ground and hid behind the desk.

The robber let out a groan as his arm hit the desk. But before he could let go of the gun, the robber yanked the back of his head against Eddie’s face. He probably broke Eddie’s nose with that move, but Eddie wasn’t going to let that stop him.

The man turned around and so did his still armed hand. But he couldn’t even point the gun straight at Eddie as he locked his left hand around the gun and his right hand around the guy’s wrist. Eddie moves the gun away from his face, and snaps his arms as low as possible, in the hope he’d let go.

And he did.

Eddie had the gun in his hands now. He did it. He disarmed the guy. Eddie didn’t think for a second as he pointed the gun at the robber. As he placed his left hand onto the radio that was attached to his chest and kept the robber at gunpoint. “Dispatch, this is firefighter Diaz. There was an armed robbery at The Daily Grind-” Eddie called in.

But just as he was mid sentence, a blow hit his shoulder. It felt like he was being pushed by something invisible. But then a roaring pain spread itself through his shoulder. Eddie dropped the arm in which he held the gun, holding the man at gunpoint. And dropped the gun to the floor.

With the hand that was just on his radio, he pushed down on the throbbing pain in his shoulder. Eddie took a look at his shoulder as he took his hand off the pain But when he saw the darker shade of blue created on his uniform, which almost looked like a water stain.

But water stains wouldn't hurt that much.

He took a look at the inside of his hand, and then he realized: it's completely red. He had been shot.

That’s when the pain got worse, and worse. Eddie looked up from his hand, at the guy he was facing. But he was gone. Along with the gun that Eddie dropped to the ground.

It looked like Eddie was zoning out. He was looking right through everybody, as if no one existed. He could hear some dull voices from the customers that were still in the shop on the back of his mind.

He lost balance in his feet as his body tumbled to the ground and hit the floor.

It felt like minutes, maybe even hours that he was lying there on the ground. Customers started to surround him, trying to help. “Someone call 9-1-1!” someone called out. But just as they did, the rest of the 118 entered the coffee shop.

“Eddie! Eddie! Hey!” Buck called out as he bursted through the door and ran from the entrance towards Eddie’s body. Buck dropped down to his knees on Eddie’s left side, and patted his hand against one of his cheeks.

“Oh god..” Hen mumbled as she took in the sight of one of her colleagues, down on the ground, with a gunshot wound through his shoulder. Bobby wasn’t on the rig, which means she was the interim captain on scene right now.

“Bring me my bag!” Chimney called out at the rest of the team, as one of them nodded and ran towards the truck. “Eddie? Can you hear me?” Buck asked as Chimney kneeled down on the other side and checked the wound, to see if the bullet was still in his shoulder. “Looks like we’ve got a through and through!” Chimney concluded.

Hen on the other hand was calling Dispatch through the radio, trying to get an ambulance to their location. “Copy that 118, an ambulance is on its way. Ten minutes out.” the dispatcher responded.

Buck looked over his shoulder at their interim captain. “Hen, he doesn't have ten minutes.” Buck said as he looked Hen in the eyes. She knew Buck was right. Every second they stayed there, he’d lose more and more blood, even though Chimney put enough pressure on it with the gauze.

They were asking for time they didn’t have.

For a second Hen was cracking her brain, really. They needed to get their colleague, they saw more as a brother, to the hospital as soon as possible. Hen sighed, “Get him in the rig” she commanded.

UNSEND TEXT MESSAGE:

Wish I was there.. I’ll call you as soon-

“Thirty year old male, GSW to the upper torso, through and through.” Hen called out as she, Buck, Chimney and Mckenzie helped lift Eddie from the backseat of the fire engine to the gurney the nurses and doctor placed next to the rig.

“Pulse is weak” a male nurse called out as soon as they had placed Eddie onto the gurney. “Trauma bay two, let’s set up for a thoracotomy!” The female nurse ordered as they pushed Eddie away on the gurney from his team.

Buck just stared at the nurses that surrounded the gurney as they ran as fast as they could towards the ER.

A thousand questions were running through Buck’s mind at the moment, and he couldn’t do anything other than just watching them wheel Eddie away. A hand fell onto his shoulder as he felt himself slip away from reality.

He looked to his left as he saw Hen’s hand being placed onto his shoulder, she tried to give him some kind of smile, but she couldn’t. She had seen lots of gunshot wounds, but it never happened to someone she was so close with.

“Did somebody call Bobby?” Chimney asked as he looked at both of the firefighters. Hen nodded, with her hand still on Buck’s shoulder. “He’s on his way..” she said softly.

“W-what about (Y/n)? I should call her.. right?” Buck said as he finally took his mind off Eddie, but remembered that they had to call Buck’s sister, Eddie’s girlfriend, about what happened. Buck looked at Hen and Chimney, asking if he should be the one doing it.

“Buck..-” Hen said, but stopped as soon as Buck interrupted her words. “I’m going to call her” he said, and fished his phone from his pocket as he started trembling. His hands were shaking as he was holding the phone in his hands.

“Buck..” Hen sighed as she placed her hands onto his, trying to reassure him, calm him down. “You shouldn’t be the one calling your sister.” she said as she pushed his hands down, to stop him from doing anything on his phone.

Buck turned towards Hen, so he was standing across from her instead of on her side. “B-but it’s my sister.” he stumbled, as he looked at Hen, “It’s her b-boyfriend who got shot.” he added as Hen could sense that Buck was on the edge of a breakdown, his voice was trembling along with his hands, and his eyes were looking lost.

“Exactly Buck. You’re too personally involved, that’s why you shouldn’t be the one telling her this news. But the captain should.” She tried to explain to Buck.

But Buck didn’t get it. They were all too personally involved. They were practically family, not by blood, but Buck saw Hen like his older sister, Eddie and Chim like his brothers. “Seriously? Too personally involved? We’re all too personally involved! I..- You’ve got to be kidding me. Hen..-” He stumbled as he couldn’t get his mind around it.

“I’m not asking Buck.” Hen cut Buck off as she folded her arms. “Hen..” Buck said as he couldn’t believe Hen was telling him off. Hen held up a flat hand as a sign for Buck to stop. “No.” she said, ”I’m not asking, i'm telling you. Not as your friend, but as your captain.” she continued.

Buck looked down to the ground, avoiding his interim captain’s eyes. Looking like some puppy who didn’t know what he did wrong.

“Now.. give me your phone.” she said as she gave them a few moments to let the moment sink in. Buck looked up from the ground, his eyebrows furrowed, as a confused “Why?” left his mouth.

“Because, I need to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” Hen moved one hand from the folded position and held it towards Buck, waiting for him to place the phone in it. He let out a scoff, she wasn’t serious.. right?

“Come on” she said as she moved her fingers towards her, making a motion to tell Buck to give her the phone. A small laugh left his mouth as he shook his head in disapproval. “You know what? Fine.” he said as he placed the phone in her hand and a deep sigh rolled off his lips.

“Thank you, you’ll get it back when I’m done. Okay?” Hen said softly as she placed the phone in her pocket and fished her own phone from the other pocket. “Now, I’m going to call (Y/n). In the meanwhile, go to the waiting area and get some coffee. We’re going to need that.” Hen said as she switched looks between Chimney and Buck.

Chimney and Buck just simply nodded and they made their way towards the entrance of the ER. “Oh and Buck..” Hen said as they made like four to five steps from where Hen was standing. Buck looked over his shoulder as he stopped in his tracks.

”Please, don’t do anything stupid.”

______

(Y/n) opened the driver's side door and stepped out of the car. “You good Chris?” (Y/n) asked as she walked towards the backseat and opened the door to get some bags out. “Yeah I got it” Chis said as he hopped out of the car and closed the door behind him.

“Good buddy” she smiled as Chris made his way towards the front door and she clicked the car keys to lock her car. She fumbled a little with her keys while she was holding the bags in her hands, but managed to get the front door key and unlock the door.

The front door swung open as Chris happily walked inside and (Y/n) closed the front door behind her with a smooth, soft kick with her foot.

(Y/n) smiled as she saw Chris walking down the hall towards his room instantly. (Y/n) made her way towards the kitchen, “Chris! Will you come help me unpack the groceries?” (Y/n) asked as she placed the two bags on the table in the kitchen.

“In a minute!” he answered as her phone started to vibrate in her back pocket. She laughed as she shook her head and fished her phone from her back pocket. She let her eyes read the text to see who was calling her.

Hen Wilson

Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of the name. Hen? Why was she calling (Y/n)? Yes she had Hen’s phone number, and Hen had (Y/n)’s. But they never actually used it. Normally if there was some kind of party, invitations would go via Eddie or her older brother Buck.

(Y/n) clicked the green button as she placed the phone to her ear. “This is (Y/n)” she said as she answered the call. “Hey (Y/n), It’s Hen.” Hen said on the other side of the phone. “Hey Hen” she greeted her as she was completely sure she was talking with Hen.

(Y/n) was slowly starting to unpack the groceries from the bag, and placing them on the table. With her right hand holding her phone, she used her left hand to unpack the bags.

“I need to tell you something..” Hen sighed, she could feel a lump in her throat as she tried to start her story. How was she going to tell this woman that her boyfriend had been shot and was now in surgery?

“Uhm.. okay?” (Y/n) stumbled confused as her eyebrows furrowed. Something about this entire conversation felt off. The way Hen was talking, told (Y/n) she was struggling. (Y/n) stopped unpacking the bags as she placed her free hand onto the table.

“(Y/n) something happened with Eddie on shift today...” Hen began, “There’s really no easy way of telling you this..” she continued as she was still looking for the right words, but the silences between the sentences made (Y/n) anxious.

“Hen.. you’re starting to freak me out. What’s going on?” (Y/n) said as she waited for Hen to speak up again. But there was a longer silence. “Hen?” (Y/n)’s voice sounded through the phone.

There was another moment of silence.

Then a deep shaky inhale broke the silence, “(Y/n).. he got shot.” Hen sobbed as she tried to keep herself together while she was on the phone.

“What?” The word just fell from her lips. She wasn’t even aware of what she was saying. But suddenly it was like her entire world had stopped.

“Eddie was out, getting coffee for the team. We heard from customers that he tried to stop a robber, and he managed to do that.. But there was another one who shot him.” Hen said, Hen’s voice was there.. but it wasn’t like any of her words were being received by her brain.

“We got him to Presbyterian hospital as fast as we could.” She continued, it was like (Y/n) was completely under water, while Hen was still talking to her. Her voice was full and she couldn’t make anything out of what she was saying.

Her eyes were starting to zone out. She was staring into the distance.

The line was deadly silent. Hen wasn’t even sure if (Y/n) was still there on the phone with her. “(Y/n)? Are you okay?” The interim captain asked.

(Y/n) let go of the dining table as she placed her hand onto the wall, across from the kitchen counter, to steady herself. “Thanks for calling me Hen..” she stumbled, with difficulty.

“(Y/n)-” Hen’s voice was audible as (Y/n) dropped the phone from her ear and clicked the off button, making the connection between the two phones disconnected.

She didn’t even notice she dropped the phone from her hand, down onto the ground. Something didn't feel quite right.

“I’m here, how can I help?” Chris’ voice sounded through the kitchen. He entered the kitchen as he looked around, nobody was at the counter, putting the groceries away.

With his palms placed on the doorframe, he scanned the room. Until his eyes fell onto (Y/n) who was standing with her back faced towards the door where Chris was standing.

“(Y/n)?” He called her name multiple times. But she wouldn’t answer him. Chris walked forward, until he was within hand reach. Hoping she would hear him now.

“W-wh-at?” She stumbled quietly, what sounded more like a mumble. And she turned on her heels to face Chris. “Are you okay?” He asked, confused as she tried to avoid his gaze and started to pull the collar of her shirt.

Her hand went from her collar towards her forehead, touching it briefly as her hand was trembling. She walked back, towards the backdoor.

A few feet in front of the back door she stopped, as she placed her hand on the wall again. Her other hand was placed onto her chest as she pushed her back against the wall and let herself slide down the wall until her bum hit the ground.

Her breathing became more rapid each time she took a breath. Her lungs were burning, it felt like she had run for hours and she didn’t know how to stop. She held her hand onto her chest, hoping it would help her to slow her heartbeat down somehow.

“(Y/n)?” Chris asked as he watched her in that state. He knew something was wrong, and his dad taught him that if something was wrong, he needed to call him.

Christopher got as fast as he could to the landline phone as he held the phone to his ear and he started to dial Eddie’s phone. “Hey this is Edd-“ his voice spoke over the phone.

It was his voicemail.

Chris didn’t have time to leave him a message, he needed an adult who could help (Y/n). So he called the second best person who he’d trust. Christopher waited for the phone to ring, it didn’t take long or he answered the phone.

With his head leaning on his hands, his elbows pressing too hard into his thighs, he stared at the space between the two legs as his feet tapped softly against the concrete. Every second that ticked by felt like an hour, maybe even a day or a week. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. His sweaty hands moved from his face to the back of his neck as he tried to keep his cool.

His eyes shot up as he felt the back of Chimney’s hand slapping his arm. Buck didn’t even realize what was happening, and was standing on both his legs, watching Hen entering the room through the two sliding doors of the ER.

Buck placed one hand on his own thigh and wiped the remaining sweat of his hand, against the fabric of his uniform. His stomach turned at the sight of Hen, her head facing down to the concrete ground.

Hen stopped as she was close enough to the two firefighters. “And..?” Chimney asked, “W-what did she say?” Buck asked then right after him. A sigh rolled off Hen’s lips as she looked between Chimney and Buck. “I didn’t get much of a reaction, she only asked me “what?” and then basically when I explained what happened, it was completely silent. She did cut me off though.” Hen told the two.

Buck could read off Hen’s face that she was having a hard time with telling his sister the news. “She’s probably shocked about the news.” Buck tried to talk things right. It wasn’t like her, cutting off a conversation.

“Yeah, I guess so..” Hen mumbled as she reached for the second phone she had in her pocket, the one that belonged to Buck. “Here..” she continued as she fished out the phone from her back pocket and held it out to Buck. Silently, Buck accepted the phone from Hen.

“So.. what now?” Chimney asked to no one in particular. Hen shook her head as she tried to come up with some sort of plan. “Well, the engine is out of service.. We need to reach Bobby. We’ve been way too long on a coffee run.” she said.

“I think he beat you to it.” Chimney then said, and pointed towards the ER entrance. Bobby stepped inside, and the second he did, he spotted the rest of his team. “What the hell happened?” he said with his arms wide.

The phone, which was still in his hand, started to vibrate and his ringtone sounded through the waiting room. Buck quickly scanned the screen, who was trying to reach him?

Eddie - Home

Why was his sister calling him with the landline? He didn’t need to think twice, or his thumb swept across the accept icon and he walked towards the sliding doors with his phone against his ear.

“Hell-” Buck couldn’t finish his sentence as he could hear a young boy’s voice calling his sister’s name. Chris was calling him. Not his sister.

“Chris?” Buck asked through the phone, ”What’s happening Chris?” he added. It took a few seconds, but he got the attention of the boy.

“Buck help! Something is wrong with (Y/n)!” he then said loudly through the phone. “Chris? What’s wrong with her?” he asked as he walked back into the ER where the rest of his crew was.

“I think she’s hurt!” Chris then said, hurt? Hurt how? What the hell was happening on the other side of that phone?

“Chris, stay on the line with me. Can you tell me what is happening to (Y/n)?” Buck asked as he made a beeline to his crew, the three of them instantly turned around as they heard Buck loudly talk to Chris on the phone.

Buck turned the phone away from his face so Chris wouldn’t catch any of this conversation. “Bobby, I need the keys to the BC car” he said, he didn’t even make it sound like a question. Bobby furrowed his eyebrows. “Something is wrong, with (y/n). It’s an emergency.” he then said. And with that Bobby placed the keys in his hands.

Buck formed a fist as he pressed the keys into his hand, and made his way outside. “She’s gasping, It’s like she can’t breathe.” Chris tried to explain. His stomach made another turn as he heard Chris saying that. “Stay with her Chris, I’m on my way.” He told the boy, and with those words he stepped in the car and turned on the lights and sirens.

He needed to get to Eddie’s house as soon as he could, the Battalion chief SUV was luckily way faster than the engine. If he wasn’t driving the battalion chief SUV, he would’ve sure had a few speeding tickets.

The moment Buck pulled up at Eddie’s home, he drove the car on the driveway, put the car in park, got the keys and jumped out of the vehicle. He sped to the front door as he pushed the planter up that was on the porch, and fished the key from underneath it.

Eddie told him where he could find one spare key if he needed one in case of an emergency, he did have a spare key to Eddie’s house at home, and Eddie had one of Buck’s.

Buck placed the key in the lock and turned it, so he opened the door. “Chris?” He breathed heavily. The adrenaline in his body and the sprint from the car towards the door made him lose his own breath.

He scanned the room, nothing in the living room. He looked to his right, nobody in the hallway for the bedrooms. He took a few steps forward, as he closed the door. His eyes found the little boy standing in the kitchen at the table.

“Hey, hey! Are you okay?” he asked as he hurried towards the boy and crouched in front of him. “I tried calling her name, but she won’t answer.” he said with a sad tone. That’s when he could hear the gasping. But he needed to talk to Chris first.

“It’s okay buddy, you did great.” Buck said as he placed his hand onto the boy’s shoulder. “I'm going to help her, okay? Can you go to your room as I try to talk to her?” Buck asked. Chris slowly nodded, Buck stood up again as Chris walked out the kitchen.

There she was. With her pinned back against the wall, knees to her chest and her head facing down between the space of her knees and chest. Her breathing as if she had run a marathon for miles, mixed with cries.

He knew exactly what this was. A panic attack.

“(Y/n)?” he softly called her name, as he slowly crouched down in front of her. But she didn’t answer, just like Chris told him. “H-hey, hey, it’s okay.” He hushed her as he placed his right hand onto her shoulder, and his left hand on the single hand that was curled around her legs.

When his skin connected with his sisters’, she looked up. Her eyes filled with panic as the other hand on her chest was pressed onto her skin. But she wasn’t looking at him, it was like she was looking right through him like he was some kind of ghost.

“(Y/n)? Hey, hey, deep breaths okay?” Buck said as he tried to get the attention of his sister to turn to him. Her eyes focussed on her brother who was crouched down right in front of him. “You breathe in..” Buck continued as he tried to guide her through the breathing exercise he was doing.

“And hold…” he added as she tried to do what Buck was telling her to do. “And out..” he said as he let out a breath with those words. But no matter how often they did those exercises, (Y/n) her breathing wouldn’t slow down.

“N-not w-work-” she stumbled as she tried to make a full sentence. He knew she was right. He had to come up with a new idea to help her get her mind off the fact that she knew her boyfriend was shot.

Buck looked back, over his shoulder, searching for something; he didn’t even know what he was searching for. His eyes scanned the room as he held his hand on her shoulder and the other one on (Y/n)’s hand. Until his eyes fell on the dining table which was still filled with groceries.

“Hey, Eddie told me you needed to go to the grocery store.” he started. You may think, what the hell, this isn’t the time to do groceries. But this was worth a shot. Her eyebrows started to furrow slightly a bit, as she heard him asking that question.

“Tell me your list, what did you need at the store?” he continued as he tried to convince her to tell him her list. But again, she couldn’t answer. But she did hear him this time.

“Come on, I know you made a list up here..” he said as he tapped his skull. He knew she always made lists for everything, she did it when she was younger and after all those years, she had never stopped doing that.

“Okay, let’s start at the beginning of the store. You’re walking through those doors, we enter the fruit and vegetables area. What are you getting?” he asks her as he tries to help her visualize the grocery store in her mind.

“Um..” she stumbled as she tried to remember what was on her list, and visualize the store in her mind. “To-” she stopped as she pressed her eyes closed and groaned for a second. “To-tomatoes” she then stuttered. “Great for pasta sauces and salads, okay what do you need more?” he said.

“Um” she said as she kept her eyes on her brother and searched for the right products in her mind. “A-apples” (Y/n) continued, “For Chris’ his lunch.” Buck said as slowly a small smile appeared on his face.

It was working.

“And, uhm.. cauliflower” she added to her list. "Of course, your favorite. Can’t forget that one.” he chuckled softly. “Okay now.. tell me how bad of a chef I am.” Buck went on. He had her breathing normally, now he wanted her to smile. Just a small one.

“Come on, I know you want to.” he told her, a small laugh left her mouth. “Remember the time when I almost burned down the house because I left some foil in the microwave?” he then said. Trying to use one of his stupid stunts as a recourse to get his sister’s mind off Eddie.

Another laugh rolled off her lips as she remembered that moment. (Y/n) let out a breath again. She was no longer hyperventilating, the pressure on her chest had left her body and the tears weren’t streaming down her face anymore.

“There you go..” Buck said then as he rubbed her shoulder with his right hand. He had never helped anyone before through a panic attack. And he surely never had seen this happen with his sister before.

But he got her back.

_______

It felt like everything was happening in slow motion, ever since they had gotten the call about Eddie getting out of surgery. The car ride, she was pretty sure Chris was asking Buck questions about Eddie. But she couldn’t catch any of those words as she watched every house, every person walking down the street and every tree passing by.

Not only the car ride felt that way, the moment she walked through those glass sliding doors of the ER, every hug she got from Eddie’s crew, everything they said. Everything was like a haze.

Buck escorted his sister and Chris through the hallway of the hospital, into the elevator. As soon as Buck calmed (Y/n) down, they took things slow. Buck tried to answer all the questions Chris had about everything: about (Y/n), why he wasn’t at work, why his dad didn’t answer his call. All such questions.

But the only thing Buck could say about Eddie was that he had been hurt on the job. That was the easiest way to explain the situation to Christopher. It has been hours, the sun went down, but Eddie finally had gotten out of surgery. That was the most important thing.

(Y/n) fidgeted with her ring on her right index finger with her left hand as they waited for the elevator to get them to the correct level of the hospital. Her mouth let out a sigh as she heard the elevator make a “ding” sound, telling them they had arrived on the right floor.

It was almost like the hallways didn’t stop. There were so many rooms, doors and corners. It was more like a maze than a hallway.

Her brother pointed towards an open hospital room door as they almost reached the correct room. The first thing (Y/n) spotted were the two women in the room, Eddie’s abuela and tia were here. But as soon as the two of them turned their bodies to look over their shoulders, a half awake Eddie was in her vision.

His eyes were barely open, his left hand had an IV in it, there was an oxygen tube underneath his nose and the monitor on the side of his bed was keeping track of his vitals. A weak smile appeared on his face as his son and the woman he loved the most stepped into his hospital room.

Chris happily moves as fast as he can to get to his dad, as (Y/n) just takes one small step into the room. She doesn't know why, but she keeps a distance from him for a second. She wanted Chris to have his moment with his dad, especially after what happened back at home. The moment she scared the living daylight out of Chris by her reaction.

(Y/n) could hear her own heartbeat in her ears as she felt her body doing almost the exact same thing as it did earlier that day.

The little boy placed his head lightly on his shoulder, as Eddie placed his hand carefully on the back of his head. “Hey bud” Eddie mumbled as he placed a small kiss on Chris' head. Eddie had his eyes locked on his girl, as he motions with his hand for her to come over.

She hesitates for a second, but eventually she gives in. She made her way towards Eddie, and curled her arms around his body. She could feel the feeling of panic and fear fade away as soon as she felt his arm locked around her body too and she took in his smell.

“I’m okay.. It’s okay..” he whispered as he could feel her arms curling tighter and tighter around his skin instead of loosening. Small sobbing sounds were coming from her mouth as she felt the tears falling down her eyes, onto her cheek and onto his ugly hospital gown.

Eddie’s hand traced slowly and calmly over her back. He placed a kiss on the side of her head as he tried to calm her down.

The others in the room could sense the emotional load that was rushing over the two. Tia motioned with her hand towards the rest of the people in the room, and then pointed to the door. They were going to give the two of them some time alone.

She didn’t want to let go.

Buck briefly placed his hand onto his sister's shoulder as he made his way out of the room together with Chris, Eddie’s tia and abuela. Eddie was sure he could hear Chris ask Buck a quiet “Why are we leaving?”. But he knew Buck could handle this.

After a few moments (Y/n) loosened her grip on the hug, she let go of Eddie and sat down in the chair next to his bed. She wipes her left hand slowly but carefully underneath her eyes to get rid of the tears, as Eddie held her right hand and his thumb rubbed over the back of her hand.

“Mi amor.. are you okay? You seem.. absent." he asks, as he keeps his eyes on (Y/n). Her eyes were locked on their hands, as a sigh rolled off her lips.

She tried to suppress her emotions as she pressed her lips together. He could practically guess the answer to that question, but he needed to hear it from her.

“No” she whispered as she turned her head away, trying to avoid his gaze. “I’m so sorry” her trembling voice continued.

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed at the words that came out of her mouth. What was she sorry for? Why was she apologizing? She didn’t do anything?

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asked as he tried his best to let the words come out easily and keep his eyes open from the anesthesia.

“When Hen called me, telling me what happened to you, it was like my whole world stopped.” She said as she found the courage to tell him what happened.

Eddie stayed silent as he held her hand even tighter.

“I felt like I was dying, I couldn’t control my breathing and my heart..-“ she stopped as she pressed her free hand onto her chest. “I-it felt like a heart attack” she said.

“A-a panic attack” Eddie concluded. Of course he tried to match the symptoms with the right diagnosis. She nodded slowly.

“I think I scared him, Eddie. He came into the kitchen when it happened.” she explains and looks down to the floor. “I’m so sorry” she cried.

Eddie couldn’t do anything since he was hooked up to the monitors and tubes. “It’s not your fault mi amor ” he said weakly, looking to his side, as he watched her in the chair next to his bed.

“It was a human reaction, you couldn't have known that you would’ve reacted like that.” He told her as he squeezed her hand, making her look at him now. “And for all it's worth.. I think you’re going to be a great mom one day.” he added.

She still looked sad. She still felt bad for the way she reacted, and scared the living daylight out of Eddie’s son. The fact that her brother had to come over and help her calm down again, made her feel like a little kid again.

“Come here” he said as it went silent for a bit and let go of her hand.

He could sense that she’s still worried about it. The confusion was visible on her entire face, questioning if it was right what she heard her boyfriend say.

Eddie moved slowly a little more to the other side as he made more space and patted his hand on the mattress. “Come on” he said as he connected his eyes with hers.

“Eddie.. I don’t want to hurt you” she whispered as she looked at him with some kind of puppy eyes. “You won’t” he answered.

“Eddie-“ she wanted to tell him this wasn’t a good idea, it was better for her to stay in the chair or go home with Chris. “Just get in the bed” he said.

She stood up from her chair as she sat down on the hospital bed and laid down on her side, trying to avoid hurting her boyfriend. (Y/n) placed her head on his chest, trying to avoid putting too much pressure on his skin.

Eddie’s fingers slowly traced up and down on her skin, and switched between making little drawings and little lines. (Y/n) could hear Eddie’s heartbeat, which made the anxiety in her body go away.

They just laid there. For minutes, maybe even hours. It didn’t matter. There were probably people waiting, wanting to see Eddie. But at this moment, he had one mission, and that was being there for his girlfriend.

“Marry me” he broke the silence, the words just left Eddie’s lips like a whisper, not wanting to be too loud in the silence they experienced for minutes. He felt the weight on his skin become lighter.

She heard him. But he wasn’t sure if he wanted her to hear those words.

(Y/n) placed her hand onto his chest as she pushed her body up for a bit, to make eye contact with him, looking at him as if he was speaking Chinese.

“When I get out of here. Will you marry me?” He then asked again, but this time with more certainty in his voice.

He wanted this, whatever he was feeling, besides the morphine and anesthesia, to be forever.

A frown popped up on her face. “Eddie, on a scale from one to ten, how high are you on pain meds right now?” she asked him dead serious.

“Probably a twelve..” he said weakly as he tried to keep his eyes connected with hers. She chuckled for a second. “I’m sure this is the pain meds talking” she answered.

“No, I’m serious. Marry me.” He then said again, more determined than ever. “Ed-” but she got cut off by him. “(Y/n) I’m not joking. I want you to be in my life, in Chris’ life. I want to call you my wife.” He just blurted out.

A smile appeared on her face, “Are you serious?” she asked, she needed a double check. “Dead serious.” He then answered.

She placed her chin onto her hand that was still on his chest and sighed. “Then, I’d be honored to call you my future husband.” She smiled, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Te amo..” he mumbled as he felt her warm hand on his cheek and smiled at the touch.

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #imagine #eddie diaz x y/n #eddie diaz x you #eddie diaz x reader #eddiediaz #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz #118

250 notes · View notes

nonotnolan · 8 months ago

Text

Jock Cock, Part 2

Check out Part 1 here.

"Excuse me, Professor Jones?" I wasn't expecting to be recognized out in public, but I did live in town, and it wasn't unheard of for a few of my more friendly students to engage in small talk if they happened to see me out grocery shopping or what have you. I'm usually too introverted to develop deep bonds with students, especially over a trivial intro course, but some people just want to be social.

"Please, just Mr. Jones. Or Kevin. I'm a teaching assistant, not a… Jared?" I certainly wasn't expecting a member of the basketball team greeting me out in public. "Do I… I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting to be recognized. I don't think you've ever been enrolled in one of my classes?"

He smiled at me, letting his bags drop to the ground. "Well, we've crossed paths before, I just didn't make much of an impression on you. I don't take it personally, I was a pretty non-descript guy." The thought of Jared ever blending into a crowd was… ridiculous, to say the least. My skepticism must have shown up on my face, because he started laughing at me. "The real me, not Jared. I'm the same guy who swapped with Adam last month."

I could feel the heat radiating from my cheeks as I recalled that night. He dumped three different loads in my ass once he was no longer my student. It was one of the most risky hookups I have ever had, but that made it all the more exciting. Especially since the man inside of Adam's body clearly had experience. Most guys with a fuck stick over seven inches were terrible in bed, but he was diligent about both foreplay and aftercare. Snuggling against a tight chest of rippling muscles, breathing deeply the manly aroma of his musky pits, gazing deeply into his eyes as his fingers ran through my hair… I didn't even realize I was daydreaming until I felt the strain of my cock against my boxer briefs.

"You wanna do it again?" he said, whispering softly. "Jared hired me to take care of Summer School exams for him. I've still got two more days inside of this body, and I'd love to see you again. That razor sharp mind of yours is just… the fucking sexiest thing about you, Kev. I want to be near you, I want to pull you in close and hold you tight." The stranger's hand slid down to his crotch and cupped his junk. "And I want to rail you with this jock cock until you scream."

I started to fidget with my suit jacket. "Jared... Adam... whoever it is that you are... look, it was risky enough when you were in the body of someone who graduated. Jared is... what, a junior? He's barely 21. And he's still a student"

"But he's not your student," countered the stranger. "I looked up the university policy. It only matters if there is a conflict of interest, like student and teacher. And age means nothing as long as the body is legal, which it is. Besides, you're... what, mid 30s? A bit older? That's nothing for hookup culture."

As always, the man had a point. Was he always this confident, or was that a side effect of wearing a jock's skin? "I mean, you're right, I just... I'm not a big fan of hookup culture. I know we had that night when you were Adam, but... I'd much rather go on a date and get to know you first. And I can't help but feel guilty that these athletes don't know you're having sex in their bodies, so that plus the hookup guilt is... it's a bit much for me. I really should say no. It's not personal."

Jared, the man inside of Jared, just smiled at me. "I don't know what sort of operation you think I'm running, but I make them all sign contracts that outline everything I'm allowed to do while I'm inside in their body, sex included. So if you don't want a hookup, I guess I'll just have to hang out a bit before we fuck. Why don't you come back to my place? We can hang out at the pool before we head upstairs."

"Pretty nice apartment complex, right? Jared's parents are loaded." He smiled at me as I glanced around the property. I knew the buildings in this part of town were incredibly expensive, but I didn't realize just how extravagant they were.

My eyes were drawn to the water droplets running down his muscular pecs. "Well, honestly, I assumed it was due to his status as a star athlete," I said, trying to keep my eyes focused on his face.

He shook his head. "Nah, they barely get paid anything, and the regulations around it are pretty bullshit. The scholarships cover the classes, but anything else is a crapshoot. Most of the athletes I hop into, I have them pay me by giving me extra time in their body. I don't think I could ever develop all this," he gestured at his chest for emphasis, "on my own. Being a jock is a lot of hard work and dedication, but borrowing it? Much easier. I love being able to borrow bodies like this, and doing their schoolwork is a breeze. It's a pretty sweet gig for someone like me."

"It sounds like you're being a bit hard on yourself, Mr...?"

The man in Jared's body shrugged. "Call me Mike, if you want. Or you can call me Fuck. That's what you'll be screaming later, when I'm balls deep in that ass of yours." It was one of the dumbest lines I'd heard, but the delivery was aided by the absolute stud who said it. "Come on, let's head upstairs. If you want a date, we can have coffee between rounds."

"You are going to be the death of me," I said, panting for breath. I could feel the sweat dripping down my thighs-- among other fluids, given that I'd already taken two loads from Mike's current body. I was falling for him, hard. "Okay, I have to be awkward. You clearly have a crush on me if you're trying to find me when you're in these hot bodies. But if you're not going to let me return the favor… where do you see this going?"

He just started laughing. "Why does it have to go anywhere? We're just two gay guys enjoying a series of casual hookups. It happens all the time."

I rolled off of the mattress and walked over to where I had tossed off most of my clothes. "Because I want it to go somewhere, Jar-- Mike. I don't want to have a series of casual hookups. I know a lot of guys are fine with that sort of culture, but… I'm not. I need more than this."

"Whoa, hey…" He came up behind me and pulled me close, and I could feel the warmth of his body. "Kevin. My guy. You don't even know what I look like. Are you in love with me, the idea of me, or the jock cock that I can provide to you?" He started grinding his growing erection against my bare ass for emphasis-- God, of course Jared's body was already prepared for round three. "I promise you, a relationship will never live up to your dreams. Don't ruin a good thing by trying to get even more. Just sit back and enjoy the dick, for as long as I can supply it."

I brushed his arm off my shoulder and stepped further away. "I can't… Mike, I'm not going to settle for 'good enough' in matters of love. And if that means ruining a good thing to chase what I want… what I need? That's what I'm going to do." I kept waiting for him to say something as I started getting dressed, but he just stared at me with his arms crossed.

He followed me out of the apartment, though he remained silent as he walked behind me. I guess he thought I would realize that his dick was too good to leave, and he had been right all along? I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. We were both too stubborn to admit defeat.

"I'll… see you around in some other college stud, I guess."

Check out Part 3 here.

#male body swap #gay body swap #after the swap #nerd to jock #muscle jock #male body magic #queer romance #gay male story #jock cock

288 notes · View notes

caplanbuckybarnes · 2 months ago

Text

Blissful Delays (howard Stark)

requested by @groovy-lady May I please request some fluffy married Howard Stark & fem!Reader fic in which Howie and his wife finally get to go on their honeymoon (they got married soon after WWII ended and since Howard has a business to run Howie and Reader hadn’t gotten to have their honeymoon because of how busy they -especially Howard- had been) and it’s just lots of romantic adorableness with some sensuality thrown in? :3

Summary: You spend time with your newlywed husband.

Warnings: fluff

WC: 632

Read on ao3!

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting golden hues over the sapphire waters of the Amalfi Coast. The sea breeze danced through the open balcony doors of the luxurious villa, carrying with it the mingling scents of salt and citrus. After years of waiting, Howard Stark finally had his bride all to himself, with no projects, meetings, or emergencies to interrupt them.

“Howie,” you called teasingly, watching your husband fiddle with a camera by the railing. He had a determined frown, the kind you often saw when he was engineering something back in his lab.

“Just hold still, sweetheart,” he murmured, squinting as he adjusted the lens. “I need to capture you exactly like this.”

You laughed softly, brushing your fingers against the hem of your sundress as you turned to face him fully. “We’re on our honeymoon, Howard. Maybe the camera can wait?”

He froze mid-adjustment, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. The corners of his mouth lifted in a sly grin as he set the camera aside. “Fair point. Why immortalize the view when I could be basking in it?”

Howard crossed the balcony to you, his hands sliding around your waist. He pulled you closer, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “You know,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, “I’ve been dreaming about this. Just us. No Stark Industries, no world-ending crises, no distractions.”

You cupped his cheek, your thumb tracing the faint stubble along his jaw. “It was worth the wait,” you said, your voice filled with quiet sincerity. “All of it.”

He smiled, softer now, and leaned in to kiss you. His lips were warm, his kiss unhurried—sweet but carrying the unmistakable spark of the man you loved. When he pulled back, his brown eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Care to test out that infinity pool downstairs?” he suggested, his hands playfully tugging at the sash of your dress.

You swatted his hand lightly, laughing. “Patience, Mr. Stark. Dinner first.”

Howard groaned dramatically, releasing you just long enough to hold out his arm. “If my wife insists. Shall we?”

The villa’s private dining area was set for two, the table adorned with flickering candles and a spread of Italian dishes that smelled divine. As you ate, Howard’s charm was on full display, recounting stories from the war and his early days of invention, each tale more exaggerated and entertaining than the last.

“You’re incorrigible,” you said, shaking your head as you sipped your wine.

“And you adore me,” he countered, his grin widening.

When the plates were cleared, the sky had turned a deep indigo, scattered with stars. Howard stood, offering you his hand. “Dance with me?”

“There’s no music,” you said, even as you let him pull you to your feet.

He hummed softly, guiding you into his arms. The tune was familiar—a swing number he used to play on the phonograph when you first started dating. Your laughter melted into contentment as he led you in a slow, swaying rhythm, the world fading away until there was only the two of you.

As the night wore on, the sensuality of his touch deepened. His fingers traced the small of your back, his kisses trailing along your collarbone, leaving you breathless and wanting.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Howard whispered against your ear, his voice thick with emotion. “This heart, this life—it’s all yours, darling.”

The villa, the coast, the stars—it was all beautiful, but none of it compared to the love shining in Howard’s eyes. For the first time since your wedding day, it felt like the world had finally stopped spinning, allowing you both to simply be.

And in that moment, surrounded by warmth and love, you knew the wait for this honeymoon had been worth every second.

#howard stark x reader #howard stark x you #howard stark imagines #marvel imagine #mcu imagines

104 notes · View notes

cxrsed-angel · 8 months ago

Text

Key Hooks Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Fluff

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Joel repeatedly loses his keys after you suggest a key dish. He finally gets a key hook and has a suggestion of his own.

Warnings: None really. slight mention of sex, domesticated fluff. No Outbreak Au. Sarah is in college.

A/N: Just Joel based on an ad and a dream I had. Pretty sure this is my first fic with Joel that doesn't have an age difference mentioned 😭. Also, it's the first nonsmut Joel fic in a while. (also nervous bc i haven't posted in a while and I kinda hate the title but whatever)

Joel was running late, super late. He had woken up later than expected. Hit snooze on his alarm twice. Partially because you were in his bed, and he didn't want to leave you, but partially because of you again because you kept him up begging him to fuck you more, and of course, he couldn’t resist. He could never tell you no, but that resulted in him being sore and tired and missing his two alarms.

You woke up yourself when you heard him cursing and muttering to himself, loudly moving things around, frantically searching for something.

You sit up in his bed, confused by the sounds Joel is making as he searches for his keys. Looking at him, you see him shake a pair of jeans that was lying on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing? Shouldn't you be leaving?” you ask, barely awake as you look at the time on his alarm clock.

“Can't find my damn keys.” He moves, searching through the stuff on his nightstand.

“I told you you needed a key holder.” Slowly leaving the warmth of his bed to help him search for the missing keys. You look on the other nightstand but don't see them there either. You sigh, looking as Joel searches on his messy dresser.

“Where'd you leave them?” you ask mid-yawn, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. It still takes a moment to actually wake up, and you're fairly tired from last night as well.

“Don't remember, you were yanking my pants off the second I got through the door, could be anywhere.” Joel searches on the floor but still fails to find them.

You nod, remembering how desperately you needed him after he returned from work. Putting your hands on him the first chance you got.

You decide to go downstairs. You glance at the clock. 9:30 a.m. Yeah, he was already 30 minutes late for work. You get out of his bed, putting on a pair of slippers you keep at his place. You search downstairs, checking underneath mail and other documents, on counters, and in the kitchen, but nothing. Joel’s not far behind you, also searching downstairs.

“Are you sure you can't skip today? Stay home. I can skip; we can both relax at home.” You ask, joking, kind of, but you're meant with just one of his unamused glares, taking it as a no. He sighs, frustrated as the search continues.

You move to the couch, searching under the cushions, the scene of last night's activities; you figure they could’ve slipped in between the cushions.

“You know, if you had a key holder, you could’ve been out the door.” You remind him as you look around for them.

“Also could've been out the door if you didn't beg me to fuck you last night before I even had my shoes off and made me lose them in the first place.”

You nodded. He had a point. With how fast you were on him, you probably tossed his keys across the room. You reach into the couch cushions and feel the familiar shape of keys in your hand. You hold them up, jangling them to show Joel you found them. He smiles as he walks towards you to grab them, but you pull them away from his reach at the last minute.

“You will finally get a key rack. I mean, I get it. Sarah moved into her dorm, so you want the whole man cave thing and everything, but will a key rack kill you? He rolls his eyes and reaches for them, nodding.

“Yes, I’ll get a damn key rack now give them so I can go.” He reaches, grabs the keys out of your hand, and gives you a quick kiss on your lips before leaving.

A few weeks later, Joel picked you up for a date and decided to take you to a new movie. You're in his black pickup truck heading back to his house since you have a few roommates back at your apartment and just want to spend time with him alone. After a car ride of forcing Joel to listen to your favorite songs since he lost rock paper scissors you got control of the music. He pulls into his driveway, turning the car off.

“Can’t believe I spent the last 15 minutes listening to that.” He grumbles, getting out of his truck, you watch as he comes around to the passenger side to open your door. You quickly find that you’ll never be opening doors when you're with him.

You smile as you get out. “You were dancing to it. Don't think I missed that.” He rolls his eyes as he closes the truck door behind you with his right hand while his left comes to the small of your back.

“I wasn’t dancin’. You were seeing things. The truck was just moving.” He walks with you to his front door as you laugh. Knowing he was definitely dancing to the songs.

“Yea? Does the truck always move to the beat or just this once?” You giggle again as you enter his house, your second home. He’s right behind you, closing and locking his door. You're removing your shoes and getting more comfortable when you hear his keys jingle.

You bend over, taking your shoes off, not facing him, but you didn't want a repeat of a few weeks ago. “Better remember where you put them this time, old man. I don't need you tearing your place apart at 8:00 am because you can't bother getting a key dish.”

“Well, I won’t forget since they have a home now.” His words make you stand up

You look up, noticing a wooden key rack with a shelf above it and a spot for mail. You see Miller engraved in the wood. You see Joel’s set of keys on it, and you smile.

“You bought a key holder?” You stare shocked at him, never expecting that he actually would.

“No, I built a key holder with some leftover wood and got some hooks. Sarah helped me with it one weekend. It was she who told me to add the mail holder.”

You laugh, looking at it closer, admiring his work, and looking at his house with his woodwork around. The shelves, the bookcase, the CD stand—all things he made over the years.

“You know it never fails to amaze me when you show me what you make. You've made things like a dresser and a table, and you made my desk for me and added cute flowers on it.”

Joel shrugs, never been good at accepting compliments, he shakes his head as he looks at the key holder.

“It’s my job, sweetheart. Would be kinda embarrassing if I was shit at it. I’ve been building things since I was a kid with my dad. He taught me and Tommy.”

You nod, slightly rolling your eyes at his inability to accept a compliment. You move closer to him. “Yeah, I know, but it’s still cool, Joel.”

You feel his hand come to your lower back, pulling you into a kiss, and you instantly melt against him, feeling his lips on yours. His left hand joins his right on the small of your back, pulling you even closer against him. Before the kiss gets too heated, you feel his lips leaving yours.

“Wait, almost forgot.” You watch as Joel reaches into the back pocket of his Levi’s, pulling out a single key and holding it out to you. “a key cause…well, I know you mentioned your lease ending in a few weeks….and well, we've been together for a bit…. I was just thinking about you moving in. If you want. If you don’t, that’s fine. I mean, you can keep the key anyway and-“

You crack a faint smile hearing him ramble and you could tell he was nervous about asking you to move in, which was sweet. You had thought about it but assumed Joel had preferred his bachelor pad since Sarah moved into her dorm this past fall. You never thought he’d actually ask. you only mentioned your lease ending soon once on the phone. You didn’t imagine he’d remember, let alone offer you to move in.

“You want me to? Because I have a lot of shit, and Sarah just moved out. ” you smile a bit, seeing him laugh.

“it’s up to you, baby. No pressure, just offering. But half your shit is here anyway. You spend most nights here anyway, and I got half your wardrobe taking up room in my closet already.”

You nod, smiling, knowing he was 100% right. You’re still thinking about what to do when he speaks again.

“Sweetheart, I don’t need an answer right now. Relax. Just let me know, okay? My offer isn’t going anywhere.”

His deep voice pulls you out of your thoughts as he grabs your hand lightly, pulling you into his living room. You sit on the couch while he goes to the kitchen, grabbing the remote to find something to watch. A few minutes later, Joel hands you a glass filled with your favorite wine while he has a beer for himself. Moving his arm around your shoulder, he pulls closer to you, still thinking about his offer in the back of your mind.

#joel <3 #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader fluff #joel miller fic #angel writes

189 notes · View notes

engie-ivy · 4 months ago

Text

(Can be read as a stand-alone, but also as my attempt to give this slightly Angsty fic a happy ending!)

1845 words

Remus and Fabian are together, so Remus doesn't understand why Fabian would be so upset his best friend Benjy is dating someone. Until he learns who Benjy is dating.

Your Person

Remus feels a hint of annoyance as he sees Benjy’s cloak on the hanger. He came over to visit Fabian again. Yet, Remus knows he isn't one to question Fabian’s relationship with his best friend, as that makes him feel somewhat like a hypocrite, and that's a can of worms Remus prefers not to open.

At first, Remus is surprised when he hears raised voices, until he realizes Fabian and Benjy are having an argument about the same thing that has been bothering Fabian all week.

“…just doesn't sit right with me! Oh, hi darling,” Fabian says mid-argument as he sees Remus.

“Hello love,” Remus says, as he walks up to Fabian and gives him a quick kiss. “And hi again, Benjy.”

“Hi Remus,” Benjy says absentmindedly, before continuing the argument. “Fabian, I can't adapt my dating life to you having a ‘gut feeling’.”

“It's more than that! It's just a wrong match, Benj.”

“Then I'll find out in due time,” Benjy shrugs.

“But if I can save you the trouble…”

“Fabian, why do you care so much about who I date?”

Remus, who has just walked into the kitchen to pour himself a beer, thinks that is an excellent question, and he lets Fabian know by leaning against the kitchen counter slowly sipping his beer, while staring pointedly at Fabian.

“I just… That is… Only because… Because he's Remus’ ex!” Fabian exclaims. “You can't date Remus’ ex! That's just bad form.”

Remus isn't entirely surprised about the news that Benjy is dating a guy he has apparently dated before. There are only so many gay guys in their social circle, after all. But he isn't going to let Fabian make this about him. Fabian is the one who has a problem with Benjy dating, so Fabian is going to take responsibility for it. “I don't mind Benjy dating an ex of mine,” Remus says casually. “We all hang out with the same people, we all date guys, it's bound to happen.” He turns to open one of the kitchen cabinets to see if Fabian has any snacks left. “Who are you dating anyway, Benjy?”

“Sirius.”

Remus freezes with his hand halfway to a bag of crisps. “No.”

“Excuse me?” Benjy asks.

Remus turns around. “No. Just… no.”

Benjy frowns. “I thought you didn't mind me dating one of your exes?”

“Not Sirius,” Remus says instantly before he can think about it. “Sirius is… He's different.”

“What’s different about him?” Benjy asks.

“Yes, Remus,” Fabian echoes, looking more smug than upset though. “What's different about him?”

“Sirius and I are still…”

“Still what?”

Well, that is another excellent question. How to describe all the things Sirius still is to him? “We're still close friends,” Remus ends up on, running a hand through his hair. “That makes it different.”

“Of course it does,” Fabian says. “Now that it's about handsome, charming Sirius Black whom you're still oh-so-close with it's suddenly a whole other matter.”

Benjy looks from Fabian to Remus and back. “Something tells me this is more between you two than it has to do with me, so I'm going to let you sort it out.” He gets up from the couch and walks to the front door. “Bye Fabi, bye Remus. See you later.”

As Benjy leaves, Remus glares at Fabian. “Weren't you just saying yourself that you have a problem with Benjy dating my ex? I'm only agreeing with you.”

“I have a problem with the whole principle of it, not with it being Sirius Black!”

“No, but I bet it has to do with it being Benjy!”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Please, Fabian,” Remus says. “You've been acting annoyed and upset ever since you found out Benjy is dating someone. That, with all the time you spend with him, how am I supposed to feel?”

“Well, let me think,” Fabian replies sarcastically. “Probably about the same as it makes me feel when you talk about your ‘special relationship’ with Sirius Black.”

“I haven't been doing that though! I didn't even know it was him whom Benjy is dating until just now!”

“And only then you suddenly had an issue with it.”

“That's different!”

“Different indeed,” Fabian agrees. “I never dated Benjy, you did date Sirius.”

“Hardly,” Remus replies. “We dated for a short period when we were only fifteen years old, that's it.”

“And yet,” Fabian says. “He's not just an ex, he's somehow the ex.”

“At least I already had that experience with Sirius and decided we're better off as friends. With you and Benjy there might still be the question of ‘what if?’”

“I don't…” Fabian sputters.

Sensing an opportunity, Remus presses on. “You never wonder ‘what if?’ when it comes to you and Benjy?”

Fabian recovers himself, though. “You really consider you and Sirius a closed chapter?”

“You're not answering the question!”

“Neither are you!”

They angrily stare at each other in silence for a moment. Remus feels justified in his anger about Fabian having been so put out over the last week by the idea that Benjy is dating someone, but deep down he knows that lashing out at Fabian might also be a defense mechanism, as he doesn't want to deal with his own feelings about Sirius moving on. Their conversation at Lily and James’ wedding, where Sirius told him he still felt so much when it came to Remus, has been playing in Remus’ mind more often than he would like to admit.

As if sensing what Remus is feeling, Fabian tilts his head. “Why did you and Sirius never date again? I mean, I know you had this big fight back in fifth year, but you sorted yourselves out, so why did you never date him again?”

Now it's Remus’ turn to be taken off guard. “I… He… We… We barely managed to salvage our friendship. I almost lost him as a part of my life, I didn't want to take that risk again and potentially lose our friendship forever by turning it into something more. There was just too much to lose, he meant too much to me…”

“He what now?” Fabian asks.

“I meant…”

“I know what you meant! You're too scared to risk your ‘special relationship’, while apparently, I'm a whole lot less special than our perfect Sirius Black.”

“That's not what I said! Don't put words into my mouth!”

“I was right to warn Benjy. He should think twice before getting dragged into whatever is going on between you and Sirius.”

“Oh, like you even care who Benjy is dating,” Remus scoffs. “You don't want him dating anyone! Don't you think it's weird how no one is ever good enough for Benjy according to you?”

“He's my best friend! Of course I want what's best for him.”

“Is him being single not more what's best for you?”

“Maybe not,” Fabian snaps. “Maybe I should be with Benjy instead, rather than with someone who doesn't think I'm all that special anyway!”

“And maybe I should be with Sirius then,” Remus snaps right back. “As you're so obsessed anyway with how special our relationship apparently is!”

They are both standing across from each other, their hands clenched in fists, breathing heavily, as each other's words, but also their own words, sink in.

After a moment of silence, Fabian blinks. “I think I might have feelings for Benjy.”

“I think I might have feelings for Sirius,” Remus replies.

They stare at each other, before Fabian groans and lets himself fall on the couch, Remus dropping down next to him.

“Rem, what are we doing?” Fabian asks, hiding his face in his hands.

“Potentially dating the wrong people,” Remus offers.

Fabian lets his head fall on Remus’ shoulder. “We're a mess, aren't we?”

“Fabi,” Remus sighs. “What do we do now? They're dating each other, for Godric’s sake!”

Well, there are a lot of things Remus would rather be doing than going on a double date with his ex, the person he's in love with, and the guy his love interest is currently dating. Like going to the dentist for instance, or swimming with sharks, or jumping out of an airplane perhaps.

“Oh my, you're so funny, Siri,” Benjy giggles, squeezing Sirius’ arm.

Remus gives Fabian, who's knuckles are turning white around his fork, a pointed look. He was the one to agree to this double date after all. Something about observing how Benjy and Sirius are as a couple before potentially intervening.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Remus says, as Benjy makes a show of tickling Sirius’ side, before he heads off to the toilet, desperate to get out of there.

“Remus, I'm so sorry!”

Remus turns away from the sink towards Sirius, who's rushing up to him.

“Did you really think this was a good idea?” Remus hisses, his frustration with the whole evening getting the better of him. “After you basically told me you still have feelings for me at Lily and James’ wedding, for us to go on a double date?”

“I know, I know,” Sirius says, running a hand through his hair and looking unfairly handsome. “But on the bright side, at least I'm finally trying to move on?” He tries.

Remus just stares at him, as Sirius has no idea how little of a bright side that is.

“But for real,” Sirius continues. “Benjy just said a double date with friends, I didn't know it would be you and your boyfriend!”

“Me and my ex,” Remus corrects.

Sirius blinks, then shakes his head. “Merlin, this really is the most awkward double date ever!” Then he gives Remus a sympathetic look. “I'm sorry, Moony. I didn't know. What happened?”

Remus bites his lip, not sure whether saying ‘I realized I'm in love with you’ while Sirius’ date is right in the other room can be considered bad form. “We just realized we weren't each other's person.”

“How?”

“I…” With Sirius’ bright grey eyes looking at him like that, Remus can't keep it in. “I think I realized that you're my person, Sirius. I tried so hard to suppress it out of fear of mucking it up and losing you for good, but it's the truth and it has always been the truth.”

Sirius stares at him for a moment, before the most beautiful smile lights up his face. He takes a step forward and takes Remus’ hand. “Really? You mean it? You would like to finally try again? With me?”

“Pads…” Remus says, staring at their joined hands. “Benjy is…”

“Just trying to make Fabian jealous,” Sirius replies. “I mean, it's been fun with him, but nothing more than just fun, when we both needed a distraction as we were desperately pining after the one we really wanted to be with. As I was desperately pining after my person.”

“Your person,” Remus repeats softly, before returning Sirius’ smile.

As they walk back to their table, hand in hand, neither of them can help the smiles still on their faces.

“Benjy, Fabian, I think we need to switch places.”

#wolfstar fix-it #wolfstar getting back together #wolfstar fluff #pining remus lupin #pining sirius black #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #fabian prewett

87 notes · View notes

lewisvinga · 11 months ago

Text

salvatore | esteban ocon x fem! reader

summary; after living a life full of cold exes, y/n never expected to find her ‘salvatore’ during a summer in monaco

warnings; toxic/abusive exes, slut shaming,

word count; 1k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minkyungseokie @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri

notes; this is song has been on repeat

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“C’mon, Y/n, you need a man. You need to live a little!" Y/b/f exclaimed as she followed around Y/n who was tidying up around her home.

"Y/n," She sighed, "I don't need a man."

"It's been 4 years since you broke up with your ex. You haven't dated anyone since you were 21!”

“And you know why.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

5 years ago

“C’mon, Y/n, let’s just go out!” Y/b/f asked through the phone. “You’re already ready!”

Y/n sighed as she cleaned the counter with a damp towel. She kept looking over her shoulder and back at the front door. “Louis is on his way. I can’t-“

“You can’t or he won’t let you? C’mon, Y/n, you deserve better.”

“I can’t.” She huffed as she rushed to finish off a quick chicken dish so it could be ready when her boyfriend arrived. “How ‘bout we go out tomorrow for lunch? I’ll call you later, promise-“

“Call who?” Louis's voice interrupted her mid-sentence. She hadn’t realized he arrived and she quickly hung up on Y/b/f.

“Y/b/f. She just wanted to hang out and-“

“That’s why you’re dressed like a whore?”

“I-I was about to ch-“

“Change into another slutty outfit?”

Y/n let out a sigh, keeping her gaze on the floor. She could feel Louis’ harsh stare as she turned off the stove and grabbed him a plate. Fortunately, he wasn’t so frustrated after work so he wasn’t as mean to her as usual.

Still, she felt tired of everything. She felt tired of constantly being paranoid. She hated how every word of his left her a mental scar. She hated how sometimes she had to wear sweaters in warm weather to cover up the black and purple marks on her skin. She was just tired.

Y/n glanced at him as she served the food on his plate. In the back of her mind, she knew Y/b/f was right and she was already thinking of the perfect time to leave him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

present day

Y/n held onto her Dior tote bag as she strolled down the streets of Monaco. She was killing time in the shops before having lunch with Y/b/f and a couple of other girls to celebrate her best friend's engagement.

Y/b/f had instructed them to wear white so Y/n wore a short white sundress. She had an iced latte in her hand, glancing through the window of various boutiques and designer stores.

The summer was hot but she didn’t mind it. She spent the past week working on her tan, eating soft ice cream, and enjoying her week off.

She was lost in her thoughts when before she knew it, she suddenly bumped into what she thought was a wall until she heard a panicked voice. “Oh, fuck! Are you okay?”

The collision had caused her to spill her latte all over her white dress, staining it brown. She let out a chuckle as she looked down at the stain and at the empty plastic cup. “I’m fine. I wasn’t paying attention! Sorry for that.”

Y/n glanced up and was met with probably one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. His deep brown, almost black eyes were filled with concern as he looked her over. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair before running his hands over his equally jet-black stubble.

“I’ll-i’ll buy you a new dress! Where’d you get it from?”

“I said don’t worry! It’s a pricey dress anyway.” She said with a smile but that didn’t seem to satisfy him.

“No, please, let me. I can afford it. I’ll even get you another latte.”

“You won’t drop this will you?”

His lips curled into a smile as he shook his head. “Nope!” He said with a shrug. “But the least you could do is give me your name.”

She shook her head slightly and laughed as she holds her hand out. “Y/n, and you must be?”

“Esteban.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

3 years later

“Bonjour. Good morning.”

Esteban’s soft voice woke Y/n up from her deep slumber. Her vision was still blurry as she slowly sat up against the bed, rubbing her eyes and letting her vision get used to the bright lights.

She realized that he stood in front of her with a tray in his hands. Once her vision cleared up, she noticed the iced latte and a croissant with a small candle resting in the middle of the tray.

“Joyeux Anniversaire, chérie.” [happy birthday, dear.] Esteban whispers, sitting beside her on the bed. He kissed her forehead as she took the tray from him. “Now make a wish.”

A small pout decorated her lips as she looked down at the candle. He purposely picked a pink candle knowing that it was her favorite color. Something her ex-boyfriend never bothered learning about in their 3 years of dating.

A panicked look appeared on Esteban’s face when he noticed Y/n’s eyes fill with tears as her bottom lip quivered. “Chérie? What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be happy on your birthday?” He asked, his voice filled with concern. He reached over and fixed her bed hair.

“I am happy.” She replied while tears streamed down her cheek. She lifts up the tray and softly blows the candle out. She turns to look at her now boyfriend of nearly 3 years with a wide smile on her voice.

“I just never had anyone care for me like you have, Estie.” She whispered as she set the tray on the bedside table. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, tucking her into his arms. “You’re my salvatore. [savior] You saved me. I didn’t even need to make a wish because you’re all I’ve ever wanted. You’re the best thing in my life.”

Esteban places his finger under her chin, causing her to look up into his deep brown eyes. He leans down and places a gentle kiss on her lips. He whispered against her lips, “I’ll always be your salvatore.”

#f1 x reader #f1 smau #formula one x reader #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #esteban ocon scenarios #esteban ocon x reader #esteban ocon imagine

317 notes · View notes

estellan0vella · 2 months ago

Text

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Thirty Nine: Epilogue SS: 20 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 5.1K Content Warnings: None?

Previous Masterlist

The bridal suite is a flurry of activity, tension, and champagne bubbles. Hayun sits in front of a gilded mirror, her reflection both stunning and slightly overwhelmed. Her wedding dress clings to her form perfectly, white silk, sparkling with intricate embellishments. The cape-like sleeves cascade gracefully over her arms, hiding the faint scars from years ago. Her floor-length skirt swishes softly as she shifts in her seat.

Felix stands behind her, meticulously curling a strand of her hair. "Hold still," he scolds gently, wielding a curling iron like a weapon of precision. "If you keep fidgeting, you're going to look like you rolled out of bed five minutes before walking down the aisle."

"I feel like I'm about to roll out of my skin," Hayun mutters, downing a glass of champagne in one gulp. "Jisung, for the love of God, stop pacing. You're making me more anxious."

Jisung freezes mid-step, holding a crumpled piece of paper. His suit is slightly askew, his tie still undone. "Sorry, sorry," he says, though he doesn't stop entirely. Instead, he resumes his pacing in the opposite direction. "I just want to make sure the speech is perfect. You're trusting me to represent, your 'tragic yet charming rise to love.' No pressure or anything."

Hayun groans and holds out her glass. "More champagne."

Felix tuts, swiping the glass from her hand. "No more. You'll be tipsy before you say 'I do.'"

"Good. I'll be too drunk to bolt." She tosses a glare at Jisung. "Unless Jisung keeps pacing. In that case, Felix, grab my passport."

Jisung smirks but grabs a bottle from the counter. "We could be at Incheon in thirty minutes. I'm talking first-class tickets to Italy. Maybe Germany. The Alps are nice this time of year."

"Jisung," Felix snaps, tugging on Hayun's hair lightly to get her attention back. "You're making her worse."

Hayun sighs dramatically. "Get me Chan. I don't care if he's Minho's best man. I'm going to need him to intervene before I relapse. Six years clean and you two are driving me straight back into bad decisions."

Jeongin pokes his head in from the adjoining door, a stack of polaroids in his hand. "I'll fetch him. I was going to bring Minho another picture anyway. Gotta remind him what he's marrying before he combusts." He winks at Hayun before disappearing.

"Jeongin's such a supportive boyfriend," Felix says pointedly, shooting Jisung a look. "He's over there running errands. Meanwhile, your boyfriend is tossing flower petals."

Jisung snorts. "It's Hyunjin. What did you expect? The man lives to make an entrance. Besides, your muscleman boyfriend is carrying the rings. Changbin's going to be the most shredded ringbearer in history."

Felix beams. "Damn right."

Hayun groans into her hands. "Oh my God. Somebody get me oxy."

Without missing a beat, Jisung flicks her ear. "You'll survive. No drugs for you, tiny bride."

Hayun glares at him half-heartedly, but before she can retaliate, Chan steps into the room. His tie is immaculate, his hair styled just enough to look effortless. "You rang?"

Hayun turns to him, eyes wide. "Get me drugs."

"Absolutely not," Chan replies easily. "But I can get you more champagne."

"Bless you," Hayun says, holding out her glass like a chalice.

As Chan pours, he glances at her. "You're doing great, by the way. You're glowing."

Hayun snorts. "I'm sweating."

"That's close enough," Chan deadpans, handing her the refilled glass.

She sips it quickly. "Is Minho freaking out?"

Chan grins. "Oh, he's fine. Those polaroids are keeping him occupied."

"Good, good," she mutters, draining her glass again.

Felix rolls his eyes and sets down the curling iron. "There. You're perfect."

"Perfectly panicked," Hayun quips, but she smiles at Felix through the mirror. "Thanks, Lix."

"You'll be fine," Jisung says, trying to smooth his tie. "I'm the one who has to make everyone laugh and cry in the right places."

Chan leans against the vanity, watching Hayun with a fond expression. "Seriously, though. Minho's fine. He's been talking about this day for years, you know. He's not going anywhere."

"Neither am I," Hayun says softly, glancing at her reflection. She touches the scar on her forehead briefly, then smooths her dress. "Not anymore."

Chan reaches over and squeezes her hand. "You're going to be amazing."

Jeongin bursts back into the room, slightly out of breath. "Mission accomplished. Minho's still coherent, but Hyunjin's hogging the mirror and practicing his flower boy routine."

Felix groans. "Of course he is."

Hayun laughs, the sound shaky but genuine. "God help us all."

Chan raises his glass. "To the bride: tragically charming, beautifully chaotic, and absolutely unforgettable."

Hayun clinks her glass against his, her nerves easing just a little. "To surviving this day without bolting to Italy."

"Cheers to that," Jisung says, raising an imaginary glass.

The room bursts into laughter, the tension breaking just enough for Hayun to finally exhale.

The snow falls gently outside the frosted windows of the quaint, candlelit chapel. Inside, the atmosphere buzzes with warmth and anticipation, a stark contrast to the icy December air. Rows of guests sit in pews decorated with sage green ribbons and white roses, whispering excitedly about the unique wedding party roles.

Minho stands at the altar in a perfectly tailored sage green suit, the white boutonniere pinned to his lapel adding a touch of elegance. Chan is at his side, his best man, grinning from ear to ear. Minho adjusts his cuffs, fidgeting as he tries not to let his nerves show.

"Relax, man," Chan whispers, elbowing him lightly. "You're marrying Hayun. She's not gonna bail now."

Minho huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. "I know, but still, what if I mess this up somehow?"

Chan smirks. "You've survived warehouse kidnappings, courtrooms, and Jisung's drunken karaoke nights. This'll be a breeze."

At the back of the chapel, Hayun takes a deep breath. Her strapless white gown, simple yet breathtaking, flows down to the floor like fresh snow. Jeongin and Felix stand on either side of her, adjusting their sage green suits as they beam at her with pride. Jisung, her man of honour, steps in front of her, holding her bouquet of white lilies and sage greenery.

"You ready, Yunnie?" Jisung asks, his voice unusually soft as he searches her eyes for any sign of hesitation.

Hayun nods, a nervous but radiant smile spreading across her face. "Yeah. Let's do this."

Jeongin grins and offers her his arm. "Let's show Minho how lucky he is."

The instrumental music fades as the doors open, and the guests collectively gasp, turning to see the wedding party begin their procession. Changbin steps out first, striding confidently down the aisle, holding a tiny sage green pillow with the rings secured by white satin ribbons. He gives a mock-serious nod to the crowd, eliciting chuckles, before taking his place at the altar.

Next is Hyunjin who emerges with a basket in one hand and a spring in his step. As the opening beats of "WAP" blare through the speakers, the guests burst into laughter. With a dramatic twirl, Hyunjin scatters handfuls of petals, flinging them with exaggerated flair. His sage green suit jacket flares out as he spins, and he pauses mid-aisle for a wink at the crowd before dramatically dropping another fistful of petals.

"Is this really happening?" Minho mutters to Chan, his hand covering his mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Absolutely," Chan replies, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "It's Hyunjin. Of course it's happening."

Hyunjin continues his march down the aisle, tossing flowers over people's heads and into the air. He executes a perfect hair flip before dropping to one knee and blowing a kiss to Minho, who shakes his head in amused disbelief.

"I can't believe you let him be the flower boy," Jisung mutters to Hayun as they prepare to step into the aisle.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Hayun says, giggling as Hyunjin tosses petals over the front row like he's performing in an avant-garde art show.

"Alright, it's go time," Felix whispers, nodding at Jisung and Jeongin.

Hayun grips her bouquet tighter, her heart pounding with a mix of nervousness and excitement as Hyunjin finally reaches the altar, dramatically dusting off his hands like he's completed a grand performance. The guests applaud, and Minho shakes his head, laughing under his breath as Hyunjin takes his place at the side.

As Turning Page begins to play, the garden erupts into a hush. The air is thick with anticipation as Hayun steps into view, escorted by Jisung. Minho stands at the altar, his sage green suit fitting him like a dream, his hands clasped nervously in front of him. Chan nudges him gently, and Minho turns.

The moment he sees Hayun, Minho's face transforms. His usual cocky grin melts into something softer, more vulnerable. His eyes shine with unshed tears as he takes in her breathtaking silhouette. Hayun's white silk gown gleams under the afternoon sun. The sweetheart neckline flows seamlessly into an embellished illusion bodice, the delicate fabric twinkling like stars. Her cape-like sleeves ripple gently in the breeze, giving her the look of an otherworldly goddess. The pleated skirt of her dress swishes with each step, adding to the grace of her approach.

"Fuck," Minho whispers under his breath, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he watches her, utterly entranced. "She's perfect."

Jisung, wearing a matching sage green suit, walks beside Hayun with an air of pride and mischief. He leans toward her, whispering, "If you trip, I'm blaming Felix for the heels."

Hayun lets out a soft laugh, her nerves fading slightly. "Not today, Ji. I'll be graceful for once in my life."

As they approach, the security detail stationed discreetly around the venue keeps watch for any press trying to crash the event. After all, this wedding is a spectacle. Minho is now a global acting sensation, and Hayun's podcast with Felix and Jisung is a worldwide phenomenon. Add in 2RACHA's Chan and Changbin, Hyunjin's modelling and dancing fame, Seungmin's impressive legal career, and Jeongin's impeccable editing and modelling reputation, and it's no wonder the event is the talk of the town.

Jisung steps forward, placing Hayun's hand in Minho's. "You better not fuck this up, Lee Minho," he jokes, but his voice cracks slightly with emotion.

Minho grins at him, squeezing Hayun's hand. "I wouldn't dare."

Felix winks at Hayun. "You're welcome for the curls, by the way."

Hayun giggles softly as Minho lifts her veil. He leans in slightly and murmurs, "Did Felix really give you Marilyn Monroe curls?"

"Of course," Hayun replies, her smile radiant. "I needed to look iconic."

"You already do," Minho whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

Seungmin clears his throat dramatically, standing in front of the couple with a smug grin. "Loved ones, esteemed guests, and the press hiding in the bushes, welcome to the wedding of two of the hottest people in Korea. Possibly the world."

Hayun shakes her head fondly, and Minho chuckles, muttering, "Trust Seungmin to start a wedding like that."

"They were too lazy to write their own vows," Seungmin continues with a teasing tone, "so they've entrusted me to handle this very sacred part of the ceremony. And by entrusted, I mean they gave me free rein. You're welcome."

Minho raises an eyebrow at Hayun, who shrugs playfully. "You knew this would happen," she whispers.

Seungmin begins, his voice deliberately solemn. "Repeat after me. I, Lee Minho, promise to love and cherish Jang Hayun."

Minho, smirking, repeats, "I, Lee Minho, promise to love and cherish Jang Hayun."

Seungmin nods approvingly before adding, "And I promise to eat her out at least four times a week."

The crowd erupts into laughter, Felix nearly doubling over as he clutches Jisung for support. Minho doesn't miss a beat. "And I promise to eat her out at least four times a week," he says with a devilish grin, earning a mock glare from Hayun.

"Your turn, Hayun," Seungmin says, his smirk growing. "Repeat after me. I, Jang Hayun, promise to love and cherish Lee Minho."

Hayun rolls her eyes but repeats dutifully, "I, Jang Hayun, promise to love and cherish Lee Minho."

"And I promise to give him head twice a week," Seungmin adds with a completely straight face.

Hayun groans, "Seungmin, I swear-"

"Repeat it," Seungmin insists, grinning wickedly.

Hayun sighs dramatically before saying, "And I promise to give him head twice a week."

Minho leans closer to her, whispering, "You can do more than twice."

"Don't push it," Hayun replies, stifling a laugh.

Seungmin continues the vows with a mixture of genuine sentiment and ridiculous humour, throwing in lines like, "I promise to never let the other eat alone," and, "I promise to always argue over who gets the last slice of pizza." Each vow is met with laughter from the crowd and the occasional exaggerated groan from the couple.

Finally, Seungmin smiles softly, his usual teasing demeanour replaced with a rare sincerity. "Now, by the power vested in me by the great country of Korea, and my impeccable skills as your officiant, I pronounce you husband and wife. Minho, you may now kiss your bride."

Minho doesn't wait a second longer. He cups Hayun's face gently, pulling her into a kiss that's equal parts tender and passionate. The crowd cheers, and Jisung shouts, "Get a room!"

Minho pulls back, grinning. "We have one, dumbass. It's called our honeymoon suite."

As the newlyweds turn to face the guests, applause erupts. Seungmin claps Minho on the back, whispering, "Congrats, man."

Hayun loops her arm through Minho's as they walk down the aisle together, smiling at their friends and family. The music swells, and the couple's happiness is infectious, radiating through the gathered crowd.

It's the perfect beginning to their forever.

The ballroom is bathed in soft, warm light, the sage green and cream colour scheme tastefully adorning every corner of the lavish reception. A string quartet plays a gentle melody as waitstaff weave between tables carrying trays of sparkling champagne. At the head table, Hayun sits, her cheeks warm from the champagne and laughter, her hand tightly interlaced with Minho's.

Minho, sharp and devastatingly handsome, watches Hayun with a soft smile that betrays just how utterly smitten he is. To his right, Chan leans into Jeongin, whose sage green tie is slightly askew. Jisung, seated beside Hyunjin, is practically vibrating with excitement as he prepares to give his speech.

The microphone screeches slightly as Jisung stands, tapping the device with an overconfident grin. "Alright, everyone, settle in. It's time for what you've all been waiting for. My speech. Or, as I like to call it, Hayun's Life: The Director's Cut."

Hayun groans, already knowing this won't end well. "Ji, please don't."

Jisung waves her off. "Relax. It's all love. Mostly."

The room chuckles as Jisung clears his throat dramatically. "I've known Hayun since I was five and she was four, and let me tell you, the journey has been colourful. But today, I'm here to share the stories you won't find anywhere else."

Minho leans in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "This is gonna be good."

"Let's start with a classic," Jisung says, his grin widening. "Picture this: eighteen-year-old Hayun deciding shower sex is a great idea. Spoiler alert: it was not. Because this idiot broke her ankle mid-action."

The room erupts in laughter as Hayun buries her face in her hands. "Ji, I swear to God-"

"No, no, let me finish!" Jisung interrupts, holding up a hand. "So, being the amazing best friend I am, I Uber her to the hospital. She's in a robe because her clothes were compromised, let's say."

Hyunjin whistles. "Compromised, huh?"

"And the poor Uber driver? Traumatized for life," Jisung continues, his own laughter making his words slightly breathless. "You're welcome for the five-star rating, by the way."

The table shakes with the force of Minho's laughter, and even Changbin is wiping tears from his eyes. Felix pats Hayun's shoulder sympathetically while hiding his own grin.

"Next story," Jisung declares, his tone shifting to one of mock seriousness. "This one is more wholesome. Thirteen-year-old Hayun leaked through her pants at school. Classic period drama. But don't worry, I saved the day. I bought tampons, and women's underwear, and tied my hoodie around her waist like the hero I am."

Jeongin claps dramatically. "You deserve a medal for that one."

"Thank you, thank you," Jisung says, bowing slightly. "I do accept cash or bank transfer."

Hayun, despite her embarrassment, can't stop smiling. "You were my hero that day. Even if you did turn green when buying tampons."

"Hey, I was thirteen!" Jisung defends himself. "Now I can buy tampons without breaking a sweat. Growth."

The crowd laughs again, and Jisung takes a long sip of champagne before continuing. "Now, the story of how Hayun helped me realize I was more into men than women. We were sixteen, super stoned, and decided, 'Hey, why not?' Bad idea. I had to picture Patrick Dempsey to get through it."

The room bursts into laughter, Hyunjin the loudest as he smirks at Jisung. "Patrick Dempsey, huh? My competition."

"You could never compete," Jisung teases, winking. "Anyway, that's the day I realized I was a proud bisexual, so thanks for that, Yunnie."

"You're welcome?" Hayun says, unsure whether to laugh or groan.

"But my strongest soldier moment," Jisung says, "was when Hayun got her IUD. Eighteen-year-old me, thinking I could handle anything, walks into the room and sees how a speculum works. I peeked. I fainted. Only for like five seconds, but still."

Felix cackles, almost spilling his drink. "You fainted?"

"Have you seen what those things do?" Jisung shoots back. "Her vagina looked like it was in a medieval torture device."

Hayun facepalms as the laughter ripples through the crowd. "You're insufferable."

"And yet, you still love me," Jisung retorts, raising his glass in a toast. "But in all seriousness, Hayun, you've been my best friend through everything. From scraped knees to broken hearts, from bad decisions to the best ones, like marrying Minho. You deserve all the happiness in the world."

Hayun's eyes glisten with tears as the room applauds. Minho raises his own glass. "To Jisung: the greatest storyteller and Hayun's most loyal soldier."

"To Jisung!" the room echoes, raising their glasses high.

As the toasts subside and the music swells again, Hayun leans into Minho, who presses a kiss to her temple. "You really are lucky to have him," Minho murmurs.

"I know," Hayun says, her voice soft but full of love. "And I'm lucky to have you, too."

Minho smiles, pulling her closer. "Forever, princess. Forever."

Chan adjusts his tie, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Alright, everyone, settle down. It's time for the best man's speech, or, as I like to call it, An Expose of Lee Minho: Wedding Edition."

The crowd laughs, and Minho leans back in his chair, already resigned. Hayun nudges him with her elbow, a grin tugging at her lips.

"So, let me take you all back to eighteen-year-old Minho," Chan begins, pacing slightly for dramatic effect. "Fresh into Seoul National University. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and, let's be honest, horny as hell. Many of our friends, including the lovely bride know this story but it has to be told"

Laughter erupts, and Minho groans, hiding his face in his hands. "You're already starting with this?"

Chan grins. "Oh, it gets better. Minho had a little fling with a girl who shall remain nameless for her dignity, and during one of their escapades, specifically during the prep for anal, the girl farted."

The entire room bursts into laughter. Hayun is slumped over, her shoulders shaking as she howls into her napkin. Minho is groaning loudly, trying to shush Chan, but the damage is already done.

"And two weeks later," Chan continues, ignoring Minho's protests, "Minho came to me and said, 'I can't get hard around her anymore, man.'"

Hyunjin nearly falls out of his chair, cackling, while Jisung and Changbin are doubled over, pounding the table. Felix and Jeongin are crying from laughter. Hayun is now leaning against Minho, tears streaming down her face as she gasps for breath.

Minho shakes his head, muttering, "You're ruining my wedding."

Chan smirks. "Oh, I'm just getting started. Fast forward a year later, Minho is seeing someone new, and things are getting, let's say, 'adventurous.' One day, he shows up at my dorm looking like he's in actual pain. I ask him what's wrong, and he says, and I quote, 'I think I broke my dick.'"

The laughter crescendos. Minho is groaning again, his ears visibly red as he shakes his head. "You're dead to me, Bang Chan."

Chan holds up a hand. "No, no, hear me out! So I ask him what happened, and apparently, the girl rode him too hard, and now his dick hurts. So, being the good friend I am, I take him to the hospital. The doctor takes one look at him and says, 'Ah, minor penile fracture.' Minho was mortified."

Hayun is nearly falling out of her chair, clutching Minho's arm for stability. Minho, who's holding her up, glares at Chan through his embarrassment. "This is defamation."

"Oh, it's all true," Chan says smoothly, flipping through a few note cards for dramatic effect. "But wait, there's more! Let's talk about the time Minho tried to be spontaneous. He and another girl decided to try having sex in her car-"

"Chan!" Minho shouts, his voice tinged with exasperation, but the room is too busy roaring with laughter to care.

Chan grins wider. "Midway through, the car alarm goes off. Turns out, she accidentally hit the panic button on her keys. Minho, ever the charmer, panicked, grabbed his pants, and bolted out of the car. Left the poor girl there to deal with it alone."

Hayun is laughing so hard that she can barely breathe, tears streaming down her cheeks. Minho leans into her, shaking his head. "Why did I let him do this?"

Hayun gasps between laughs. "You should've picked Changbin!"

Chan's grin is practically splitting his face now. "And let's not forget the infamous shower incident. Minho slips while trying to look sexy, ends up banging his head on the tile, and the girl had to drag him out of the tub half-conscious. Truly a Casanova."

The room is in complete chaos now, everyone laughing uncontrollably. Hyunjin is wiping tears from his eyes, Jisung is practically on the floor, and even Felix and Jeongin are holding onto each other to stay upright.

Minho buries his face in Hayun's shoulder. "I hate you all."

Hayun pats his arm consolingly, though she's still giggling. "I love you, but this is the best day of my life."

Chan raises his glass. "All jokes aside, Minho, you're one of my best friends, and I've watched you grow into someone who truly deserves the happiness sitting beside you. Hayun, you're a saint for putting up with him, and I mean that sincerely. To Minho and Hayun!"

The room erupts in cheers, everyone raising their glasses to toast. Minho sighs, lifting his glass reluctantly, but there's a small smile on his face as he glances at Hayun, who's still grinning ear to ear.

As the clinking of glasses fills the room, Chan leans into the mic one last time. "And Minho, may your future be fart-free."

The roar of laughter is deafening, and Minho can only laugh along, knowing he's never going to live any of this down.

The lights dim, casting a warm glow over the dance floor as the opening notes of Stand By Me by Florence and The Machine fill the air. Minho extends his hand toward Hayun, his gaze steady and full of quiet affection. The chatter of their friends and family falls away as she places her hand in his, allowing him to lead her into the centre of the room.

The crowd parts like a sea, leaving only the two of them in the middle, their breaths mingling as they take position. Jisung and Felix are already sniffling loudly from their table, clutching tissues like lifelines. Felix's soft sobs are drowned by Jisung's theatrical sniffles.

"You've got this," Minho whispers to Hayun, his voice low and soothing.

Hayun smiles nervously but nods, pressing her left hand to his. Their fingers don't lace together, instead, their palms meet, creating an unbroken line of contact as they slowly walk in a circle, never breaking eye contact. Minho's gaze is warm, grounding, and Hayun feels herself relax despite the dozens of eyes watching.

When the chorus begins, Minho spins her effortlessly, her back pressing against his chest. His arms encircle her waist as they sway gently, moving in time with the music. The world narrows until it's just them, the rhythm of the song guiding their steps.

Jisung wails audibly, blowing his nose with the force of a trumpet. "They're so fucking beautiful," he chokes out, clutching Felix's arm like a lifeline.

"Shut up, Ji," Felix mumbles, but his own voice is thick with tears as he dabs at his eyes with a napkin. "You're gonna make me ugly cry!"

On the dance floor, Hayun leans back slightly into Minho's chest, her head tilting so her cheek brushes his jaw. "They're loud," she murmurs, amusement flickering in her voice.

Minho chuckles softly, his breath warm against her temple. "Ignore them. It's just you and me, Princess."

He spins her again, their movements fluid and natural, as though they've been dancing together forever. The room seems to pulse with the song's gentle beats, and even the most boisterous guests are subdued, watching in awe.

Hyunjin, sitting next to Jisung, leans toward Changbin and whispers, "I swear, if Jisung doesn't shut up, I'm going to throttle him."

"Good luck," Changbin replies dryly, sipping his drink. "He's on a roll."

Jisung sniffles again, oblivious. "I mean, look at them! If love was a competition, they'd fucking win!"

Jeongin groans and kicks Jisung lightly under the table. "Shut it. You're ruining the vibe."

The song swells, and Minho lowers Hayun into a graceful dip, his hand steady on the small of her back. As she looks up at him, her eyes bright with emotion, the world feels suspended. The crowd collectively holds its breath.

"Hayun," Minho whispers, his voice just for her. "You're everything to me."

Her breath catches, but before she can respond, Minho pulls her upright again, resuming their slow, swaying rhythm. He presses his lips to her temple, a tender gesture that sends the room into a wave of soft murmurs and sighs.

"You're setting the bar too high for the rest of us," Chan calls out, grinning from his table. His voice breaks the moment, but it's followed by warm laughter.

"Shut up, Chan!" Felix shouts back through tears. "Let them have their moment!"

The song nears its end, and Minho spins Hayun one last time before pulling her close, his hands resting on her waist. They stand together in the middle of the floor as the final notes fade, their foreheads touching.

The room erupts into applause and cheers, Felix and Jisung loudest of all. Jisung is on his feet, clapping furiously as tears stream down his face. "My best friend is married!" he howls dramatically. "Minho, take care of her, or I'll kill you!"

"Same," Chan adds with a smirk, lifting his glass in a toast.

Minho grins, but his focus remains on Hayun, his voice low as he says, "Ready for forever, Princess?"

Hayun nods, her smile radiant. "Always."

Minho and Hayun walk hand in hand, their steps measured but full of a quiet excitement. The hotel doors open to a flurry of laughter, cheers, and the soft flutter of rice being thrown into the night air. Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin are lined up outside, pelting them mercilessly with handfuls of the celebratory grains.

"Do you fuckers know how hard it is to get rice out of a sports car?" Minho grumbles, though his smile betrays his irritation.

"Stop complaining, newlywed," Jisung cackles, aiming directly for Minho's perfectly styled hair. "You've got a hot wife, a hot car, and you're heading to a hot honeymoon. Let us enjoy this moment!"

Hayun laughs, her voice soft and sweet under the chaos. She looks radiant in her white mini dress, the silver stilettos adding just the right amount of sparkle to her look. Her hair cascades over her shoulders, framing her glowing face as she waves at the group.

"You guys are so dramatic," she teases, dodging a handful of rice that Hyunjin throws with sniper-like precision.

"Hyun, you look beautiful!" Felix shouts, his grin wide and genuine. "Minho, don't fuck this up, yeah?"

Minho snorts. "As if I would. She's stuck with me now."

Changbin tosses the last of his rice into the air like confetti. "Make us proud, man. But not too proud." His eyebrows waggle suggestively, earning groans from the others.

Jisung cups his hands around his mouth as Minho opens the door to his sleek black sports car. "COME BACK PREGNANT!"

Hayun's cheeks flush, but she laughs anyway. Minho freezes mid-step, turning his head slowly toward Jisung. "If I wasn't in the middle of my goddamn wedding night, I'd throttle you."

"Promises, promises," Jisung taunts.

Minho shakes his head, muttering curses under his breath, but he doesn't look angry, just exasperated. He opens the passenger door for Hayun with a dramatic flourish, gesturing for her to sit. "Your chariot awaits, Mrs. Lee."

She beams at him, sliding into the leather seat gracefully. "Why, thank you, Mr. Lee."

Minho rounds the car, his black slacks and crisp white button-up still looking pristine despite the rice assault. He slides into the driver's seat, adjusting the rearview mirror. "You ready for our honeymoon, Princess?"

Hayun tilts her head, curious. "Are you finally going to tell me where we're going?"

Minho smirks, resting his hand on the gear shift as he glances at her. "Verona, Italy. The birthplace of tragic romance, gelato, and pasta."

Hayun's eyes widen, her hand flying to her mouth as she gasps. "Minho, you're kidding! I've always wanted to go to Verona."

"I know," he says, his smirk softening into a fond smile. "I listen, Princess."

She leans over, cupping his face as she kisses him deeply. The cheers from their friends grow louder, but the moment belongs to just the two of them. Minho pulls back first, his forehead resting against hers. "We better go before those lunatics come up with another ridiculous plan."

As if on cue, Jisung yells, "Don't forget to send postcards!"

Minho laughs, shaking his head as he starts the engine. The sleek car roars to life, its headlights cutting through the dark. "Hold on," he says, glancing at Hayun. "This is gonna be fun."

He floors it, the tires squealing as they peel out onto the street. Hayun leans back in her seat, the wind from the open windows whipping through her hair as she laughs. "I can't believe we're going to Italy."

Minho glances at her, his expression soft despite the speed. "Believe it. You deserve it."

As they drive into the night, the city lights fading into the distance, Hayun rests her hand on Minho's arm. "I love you, you know?"

Minho smirks, his eyes flicking between her and the road. "I know. And I love you, too."

And so we reach the end of Minho and Hayun's story which has been a wild ride and one of my favourite stories to write and I got to explore so many different arcs and characteristics.

Thank you to everyone who showed this story love, who commented, reblogged and liked <3

My Next Story is in the works: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount @lily-loves-kpop @stilldontknowhoiam

@ziggy1221 @justaspoonofjam @tr-mha-fan @candycurshidkwhatthehell

@heeseungspookie @smigcrazy @skzstannie @nightmarenyxx @beaann

61 notes · View notes

owliellder · 1 year ago

Text

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author's Note: I write these at work and I work nightshift all alone in a little gatehouse, right? I kid you not 3 coyotes were staring at me through the door and I didn't even notice. I saw them running by on the cameras but I honestly thought it was just a group of feral cats cause they were so small.

Anyways, thank you for 300 followers!! I'm geekin' out over that! And Friday morning the last chapter will be out 😈🙏

Cross-posted on AO3

Session 5: Finishing Touches

The word excited was a vast understatement when it came to seeing you again.

Leon's heart was thrumming against his chest as he stood silently in front of your apartment door. His hand was raised up halfway, ready to knock, but a sudden wave of anxiety was holding him back. He was at your apartment. Your apartment.

The drive over was relatively short, it was closer than your workspace, yet he felt confident the entire way here. Now here he was, frozen in place, worried his knock would be too loud or make him seem desperate, even. A ridiculous thought, obviously the man knew that, but it gripped his mind nonetheless.

You must've had a sixth sense, having opened the door before he'd built up the courage to actually knock, when all reality you just recognized the sound of his motorcycle at this point. The sweet smile you gave Leon was enough to draw him into your apartment. He was quick to take his jacket off since he was sweating bullets, hanging it up on the coat rack next to your front door.

You could tell he was nervous just by how jittery he was, it was endearing yet worrisome at the same time. Seeing how worked up you made him was adorable, but at the same time you didn't want him to feel uncomfortable around you.

"Sit wherever, Mr. Kennedy. My house is yours." You placed a hand on his bicep to try and ease him, smile still remaining as you watched him survey the living room. A quiet laugh fell from his lips as he trained his eyes on you. "It's Leon, please. Making me feel real old over here..." You rolled your eyes with a playful groan. It was just a formality you'd trained yourself to respond with when it came to clients. A hard habit to break since you'd never really dated any of them before now.

With a gentle pat, you slowly turned and walked off into your admittedly small kitchen where the faint sound of boiling water could be heard. It took a few seconds before Leon decided to follow you, not totally convinced to take a seat just yet. You glanced over your shoulder at him before turning back to reach up into one of your cabinets, pulling out a couple mismatched mugs. "You like chai?" He nodded, licking his lips at the idea of something to drink.

The man could only stand awkwardly a few feet behind you and watch as you grabbed a couple tea bags from another cabinet, setting reach bag in their respective mug. An electric kettle sitting atop your counter beeped once it reached the selected temperature, prompting you to grab the handle and pour the water into the mugs.

You covered the mugs to let them steep, turning around to lean back against the edge of your counter so you could look at Leon. He looked like a lost puppy, hands in the pockets of his jeans as he took in your kitchen. With a sympathetic sigh, you pushed yourself from the counter and looped your right arm through his, leading him out of the kitchen back towards your living room. "Get comfortable, I'll bring the tea over here, okay?"

He just let you lead him over to the couch, sitting down at your request with a meek nod. He really should be more confident than this, but he was far out of practice when it came to women. The idea of messing this up for himself was terrifying.

Leon's head followed you as you walked around to the front of the couch, watching as you set the mugs on the coffee table before sitting down next to him. He rested his hands on top of his thighs, eyes now stuck to the tea placed in front of him.

"Are you feeling alright? You look like you're gonna throw up." You meant this in a joking manner, even giggling a bit as you spoke, but Leon's head jerked away from the tea to look at you, eyebrows furrowed with worry as he shook his head. "No-.. No, I'm okay, just... Can I be honest?"

That kind of question never failed to make you nervous, and he was quick to pick up on that, clearing his throat after stumbling over his words. "It's... It's been a long time since I've done anything like this. Seeing someone."

Your mouth formed a small 'o' shape at his confession before falling back to that same sweet smile that you welcomed him in with. "You're right to be nervous, Leon. But hey," you paused to scoot closer to him, ".. I've had the privilege to learn a bit of backstory from you already, and after working with a few other agents before you, I have a general idea on just how taxing that kind of job can be."

Leon tightened his lips as he listened to you, worry still plain on his face. You were right and maybe that's why he grew to like you so easily. He didn't have to explain anything since you already knew the basic gist of it all, holding a level of understanding that most other potential partners wouldn't have.

You reached in front of him to grab the mug, carefully placing it in one of his hands before reaching further to grab the other, now having him hold the mug with both hands. He kept fidgeting with his jeans, clearly needing something to hold onto.

"I won't pry, the details of your job seem pretty intense, but I want you to know that I'll never turn you away, relationship or not." You'd grabbed your own mug now, looking down as you pinched your index and thumb on the paper end to the tea bag to jostle it a bit. "You've more than earned the time you have now to just be yourself."

Leon swallowed dryly, turning his attention down to where he was holding the mug in his lap. He didn't even know he needed to hear those words, but dammit were they definitely hitting home.

"Thank you." He managed to say, voice meek and slightly scratchy from just how dry his mouth had become. "You... have a way with words?" He breathed out a chuckle to which you followed up with a laugh of your own. Despite feeling so vulnerable and awkward, he still managed to make a joke.

You closed your eyes as you brought the mug up to your lips, taking a sip of the now perfectly warm tea before opening them again to give the man next to you a smirk. "What a charmer you are, huh?"

And just like every other time the two of you had been around each other, Leon started to relax by the hour; talking more, joking more, getting closer to you, and once you both finished up the tea, he held onto your hand with his own.

He followed you around your apartment when you excitedly asked to give him a tour. It was small, a very humble one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, but to Leon it was probably the most comfortable place he'd ever been. So similar to your workplace in terms of decor, but now it was full of your more personal items.

The smell of the tea from earlier was beginning to fade, making way for the smell of just you, such a pleasant and intoxicating smell to the man.

Your bedroom was the biggest culprit so far, the two of you winding up sitting on the edge of your bed. Shamefully, he'd zoned out as you rambled on about whatever, just soaking in the feel of your comforter beneath his hands. It was soft, but definitely not as soft as your lips were.

While Leon was zoned out, his eyes had gotten stuck again, this time on your lips as they moved. You were focused somewhere else, looking forwards, not really paying attention to where he was staring. He so badly wanted to kiss you again, the last kiss didn't last nearly as long as he would've liked it to.

Leon knew his words would fail him and he wanted to act before his nerves got the better of him, leading him to moving his eyes up to yours, his hand reaching to gently hold under chin so he could turn your head to face him.

The feel of his hand caused you to pause your ramble, letting him turn your head to face him. He looked so handsome with that wanting look, his eyes flittering from your own and back down to your lips.

He seemed to know what he wanted, so you opted to just let him slowly pull you closer into a kiss, eyes closing as your lips touched his. It was a little longer than the kiss you shared the night before, but after pulling away and seeing the shy smile you had, he couldn't help but pull you right back in.

His eyebrows furrowed, hands finding their way to your back to pull you closer, one between your shoulder blades while the other on the small of your back. You arched against his touch, letting him angle you the way he wanted. Leon's hands moved to make way for his arms, biceps flexing as he tightly wrapped them around you. He had to hold on tight, fearing he would lose his little slice of heaven if he didn't.

Your lips felt amazing against his, so soft and pillowy. And god, the way your skin felt when he shifted one of his rough hands up under your shirt. He needed more, all of you.

He let out a low groan, almost a growl as he nibbled on your bottom lip before moving down to your neck. He leaned back a bit so his shoulders were resting against the head of the bed frame, managing to pull you even closer so your chest was pressed up a little higher than his, his head buried into the crook of your neck.

You breathed out a shaky breath as his hands began to wander again, still underneath your shirt. They went up and down your back, moving down to occasionally squeeze your waist. You made the prettiest sounds when he did.

Leon felt so needy, holding onto you like this, for dear life. He couldn't help it. You were his lifeline right now.

His lips trailed along the underside of your jaw and down the front of your throat, making sure to leave a trail of hickeys in their wake. He could feel you swallow and the vibrations from your moans, loving how alive you felt in his grasp.

You ran your fingers through his hair before gently tugging him away from your neck, tilting his head back ever so slightly so he was looking up at you. He was panting, breath cold against your spit-covered neck. You gave him the most endearing look, one hand trailing down to cup the side of his face. You didn't want him to worry even for a second.

"I'm not going anywhere." You whispered, running your thumb along his bottom lip before bringing him into another kiss. His grip on you loosened enough for you to carefully slide down and settle your upper half into his lap.

Leon's lip quivered as he watched you, hands trembling once you'd slid out of his grasp. Your words were comforting, but he couldn't hold onto you the way he wanted when you were down there. Though, with the way you rested your cheek against the bulge straining in his jeans, he wasn't all that worried anymore.

You watched your hand with a lazy smile as you stroked him over his jeans, both arms resting on his thighs to keep them spread apart. Leon needed love and care and you were more than willing to help him make up for the lost time.

After unbuckling his belt and pulling it off, you unzipped his jeans, sitting up to pull them down in the front. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, silently asking for permission to which he eagerly nodded his head. He even reached his hands down to help, but you swatted them away.

"Let me take care of you..." Carefully, you pulled the front end of his boxers down far enough for his cock to spring out and then up against his stomach, already leaking precum. Leon groaned as the cool air hit it, causing his hips to jerk up a bit.

You didn't want to tease the poor man, so you reached your hand up and gripped the base, pulling it upright and to the side slightly. You stroked him languidly before placing a gentle kiss against the shaft. He whined, his legs now starting to shiver from the adrenaline.

Leon never could've imagined he'd get this far with you tonight, let alone get to watch you stroke his dick while giving it kisses and little kitten licks. A pitiful moan was pulled from him when you wrapped your lips around the tip to suck, your hand now stroking him faster.

You were so careful with him, focusing on his pleasure, having even stopped a couple times to make sure he was feeling good and also just to tell him how good he was doing.

With his cock now deep in your throat, tears were streaming down his face, small sobs falling from his lips as you bobbed your head up and down. It was all so much; the smell of your bedding, the feeling your mouth wrapped around him, the sound of his own weak little cries hitting his ears.

"I'm-.. God I'm sorry- I-" He spoke breathlessly through the moans and sobs, hands fisted into your comforter as he began to worry he'd chase you away. You pulled your mouth off of him, hand moving from holding the base to stroking him again. "You're doing such a good job, Leon. Just let go for me.." With your hushed words, you quickly put your mouth back around him, going right back to deepthroating him.

His orgasm surfaced fast, throwing his head back with a high pitched whine as he all so suddenly came down your throat. After pulling away, you gave the tip of his cock a gentle kiss before tucking it back into his boxers for him, staring up at him while running your hand along his thigh.

It was hard for him to look down at you, his head feeling heavy. A few small tears fell here and there, but now he was able to give you a tired smile. "Was that alright?" You asked him again, voice raspy from deepthroating the man.

Leon huffed out through his nose, smile widening as he quickly sat up, reached down, and pulled you up so your chest was pressed against his again. He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly once more before burying his face into your neck.

It would've taken years for him to open up like that with anyone else, but it was different with you. You already knew, you understood, you were patient with him.

You made him feel weak in the best way possible. For once in his life he didn't need to be that strong, stone-cold agent who didn't bat an eye at death. With you, he could be soft.

It only took a few more sessions for Leon's portrait to be finished. All that needed to get done was some finishing touches since little things tend to get smudged along the way. All a part of the process.

Unfortunately for Leon, you didn't let him see the final product, blocking his every attempt to see it while saying something about "You don't get to see the bride before the wedding!" Whatever that meant.

When you told him it would take about two months to dry, he turned into the biggest man-child you've ever seen. Leon was just as bad as Chris in that sense, only difference being Claire was there to help contain Chris when he tried to see their portrait. Now you were left to deal with Leon's shenanigans all on your own.

No matter how much he begged and pleaded, you didn't relent. Hell, you even chased him out of the building with a dirty paintbrush. Two months was too long to wait for something like that. You were basically torturing him.

Luckily for you and him, it was easy to distract the man with the promise of a comfortable night at your apartment with some takeout. Afterwards, he really only ever asked about the portrait when he saw you working on something else. By now you'd hidden the painting away from his prying mind to give it time to dry. Out of sight, out of mind.

In the meantime, you would sketch him at random; while he was sitting on your couch, with his glasses on, naked on the bed posing for you "like one of your french girls", which was pretty funny yet surprisingly helpful. It had been a long time since you had the chance to draw a nude model, and what better than the ex-agent you'd grown so fond of?

Now it was just a matter of playing the waiting game. Leon's portrait was made to be extra special, secretly working on it while he was sleeping or off at the gym. Sure it prolonged the drying process, but you can't rush perfection in the end.

tags!: @greywardensaywhat @xkittiecatx @httpsuguru @k-fallingstar @lysa1201 @bobastayhigh @pocketstoriesstore @agent-dessis-posts @klee-iii @missjoenowhere @bbjposay @lazuliglace @bigtiddiesimp @finsternisle @sweets3rial @sodacolablast (there's a few of you that tumblr wouldn't let me tag for some reason 😭)

#daily dose of dilf #hes not a dad in this #but that doesn't mean hes not a dilf #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy fic #leon x reader

537 notes · View notes

pars-ley · 5 months ago

Text

Title: Come Alive (part two) Pairing: Jackson Wang x f reader Summary: Having not heard from Jackson since he pretended to be your boyfriend to ward off unwanted attention, you try to push him out of your mind, that is until you run into him when you least expect it. Genre: Fake dating au / strangers to lovers au / heartbreak / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 15 (Nsfw-smut in future chapters) Warnings: some brief mild "friendly" threatening behaviour / foul language W/C: 2.2k Banner: @nixiecreates creating pure perfection. Beta: @seokgyuu thank you so much for you kind and encouraging words Tag list: @foofarny @kzokssb @galadrielthepsycho @sumzysworld @vminjackbaddie Notes: just a short chapter as I'm easing into the story that will unfold. I'm so excited. Please like, comment, reblog as it really helps!

"Can I get a medium latte and a slice of the lemon sponge, please?” You ask the barista, at the coffee shop around the corner from your apartment.

“Uh, sure, to have in or takeaway?” He responds with a bright smile, seeming slightly over the top.

“Have in, please.”

He nods enthusiastically, “coming right up, tap when you're ready.” He points to the contactless card machine and rushes off to make your drink. “Swap with me.” He whispers to the other worker at the coffee machine, practically shoving him out of the way. Frowning, bewildered by his behaviour you shrug it off and make your payment before heading to the other end of the counter to wait for your order.

Taking a quick glance at the seating, you are pleased to see there are a few tables you can choose from, much to your relief. You need to get some work done and with your upstairs neighbours having renovations in their apartment, the noise there is almost impossible. So you came to your sanctuary, your favourite coffee shop with not only the best coffee, but most importantly, the best cakes.

“Here you are.” The barista says with that same wide, slightly manic looking grin, as he hands you the tray. “Call me, anytime.” He whispers, but still loud enough for the people in the queue to hear, resulting in their quiet sniggers. You glance down at your order and see the scrawl of some numbers on your napkin and your face heats, only made worse by the fact you can feel so many eyes on you. Smiling awkwardly, you blurt out, “Sorry, I have a boyfriend,” before taking the tray and making a quick escape to your table by the window.

Once seated you spin the cup to take a proper look at it.

The name ‘Lyle’ stares at you in bold, messy italics. Groaning to yourself, you turn the cup back back around and set your bag on the seat next to you, pulling out your laptop and hoping that the eyes you could still feel on you were only your imagination.

You most definitely did not want to call him. Especially since you still haven't forgotten about Jackson. It has been a month since you met him at the club and you've had no text or call from him whatsoever and yet, he has crossed your mind more regularly than you would care to admit.

You shrug the thought away as you load up your work and dig into your cake, relishing the sharp lemon flavour of the sponge combined perfectly with the sweetness of the drizzled icing on top.

“Does this boyfriend have a name?” a voice beside your table startles you, your fork freezing in mid air while your mind races to come up with an answer for the persistent barista.

Glancing up at him, determined to continue your lie, you start, “l-” but stop when you see a familiar face smiling down at you. “Jackson?” you drop your fork and stand up to greet him. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and kisses you lightly on the cheek, lingering a little too long for just a casual greeting. “It’s great to see you, y/n.”

You can’t help smiling up at him, your bodies almost pressed against each other and radiating intense heat between the tiny gap.

“y/n?” Another voice sounds and a smiling face appears from behind him.

“Do I know you?” you wonder.

“No, no, sorry, I’m Mark, Jackson’s friend, but boy, have I heard a lot about you.” he grins.

Arching a brow you peer up at Jackson and note the faint flush of pink dusting across his cheeks and have to fight the amusement that tugs at your mouth. “Good things, I hope?”

“Oh, yes, very,” is all Mark responds, snapping his mouth shut when Jackson throws him a deathly glare. Biting your lip in an attempt to keep your excitement and amusement at bay and watch as Jackson turns your coffee cup towards him, looking at the numbers written there, “so, is this boyfriend real or did you need a fake one again?”

The smirk that plays on his lips has your heart pounding against your ribcage, creating a tune just to serenade him with.

“I guess I could have really used your assistance again.”

He laughs and then his eyes fall serious, seeming unsure of what he wanted to say.

“So still no boyfriend, huh?” Mark interrupts the silence, as he stares very obviously at Jackson.

You shrug, “nope, I seem to have this problem…” tapping your chin thoughtfully, “where guys don't call me.”

Jackson groans and dips his head into his hands, “I know, I know, I was going to call, but then…” he hesitates, searching for the right words.

“He was being a little bitch about his ex,” Mark interrupts, “but, he's over that now, aren't you?” he scolds and you have to fight the urge to laugh.

“Yes, definitely.” Jackson responds staring intently at you, eyes burning through you and starting a surprisingly intense heat inside you. “I'm sorry, I should have at least sent a text.”

“Hey, if you're not ready, you're not ready, can't help meeting at shitty timing.” you smile graciously, trying to hide your disappointment and hoping you're succeeding.

“I'm ready, now,” he insists, stepping closer to you. “If I haven't blown my chance?”

Your heart hammers so loud in your chest, you can barely hear his words, but the resounding scream inside your head tells you what you've decided. “Why don't you message me and find out?”

He beams at you and nods, “yes, for sure.”

Your cheeks warm slightly and you have to break eye contact, if you want your brain to ever work normally again. Getting lost in his eyes is dangerously easy.

“Miss, are these guys bothering you?” A voice sounds next to you and your eyes drift slowly over following the sound. Who should it be? None other than Lyle, the barista. Thinking he's being a knight in shining armour, when in reality he's disturbing a moment you have hoped for since the night you met Jackson.

You bite your lip, as the awkwardness only continues to grow as you watch Lyle sneer at the two of them, it would almost be laughable if you weren't so disappointed by the interruption.

Jackson glances slyly at you, a devilish smirk playing across his mouth and as if you can read his mind, you give him a sly wink.

Jackson steps towards him, glancing at the barista's badge, “Lyle, is it?”

He nods in response, suddenly seeming unsure of himself for butting in.

“I really appreciate the concern for my girlfriend, thank you for checking in on her and her well-being,” Jackson's hand lands on Lyle's shoulder, meant as a friendly gesture but you can tell it's also a warning by the firm grips he holds. He picks up your coffee cup and turns it towards Lyle, “and as you can gather, she won't be calling you. No hard feelings, right?”

Lyle shakes his head quickly, cheeks slightly pink and spins on his heels, making his way back behind the counter.

“Thank you.” You fight back a laugh. “you come to my rescue once again.”

“Always happy to be your fake boyfriend.” he beams at you.

“Or,” Mark chimes in again, “you could just date each other, then you could be her real boyfriend.” He mimes bashing your head's together which would have made you laugh ordinarily but you're hyper focused on Jackson's reaction to that.

He fixes Mark with a hard stare before turning back to you. “I'm sorry, I'm really out of practice with dating.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I'll call you later today and we can arrange a date? I mean, if you'd like to, that is? I don't mean to assume.” His face flushes pink and you can't help but bite your lip from the sight.

“I would love to, but,” you pause just to torture him a little more, “why don't you give me your number this time, in case you chicken out again.”

He gives you a bashful grin before pulling out his phone, typing away and then returning it to his pocket. “Done.”

You feel your cell vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans. “Ok, then.”

Both smiling at eachother like idiots, you're interrupted by Mark once again, “ok, lovebirds, we better get going so we're not late for the game.”

“Game?” You wonder.

“Basketball, a group of us play every week.” Jackson glances down at his watch. “Shit, you're right.” He takes a step towards you, “sorry, I've got to go but I promise I'll call you tonight.”

You nod, excitement blooming like roses in your stomach but a small whisper in the back of your mind does not want to get your hopes up again.

His fingers gently clasp your hand, and pull it up to his mouth, he presses his lips to the back of your knuckles, an action that almost has you swooning but you manage to stay upright.

“Really great to meet you!” Mark calls, as he heads towards the exit, drawing people's eyes in your direction.

Jackson backs away without another word, glancing back at you until he's out the door and out of sight.

You sit down, feeling dazed, your hand feels cold where his lips touched your skin, burning them with the memory of the tender kiss. Opening up your laptop and attempting to focus on today's tasks proves difficult when all you can think about is the hopeful impending conversation you would have with him later.

Pulling out your phone, remembering that he'd messaged you, so you could save his number and you see the text. Your mouth stretches in Cheshire grin before you can stop it seeing his message:

Unknown: can't wait to speak later

Just that simple sentence had you giddy and feeling like a love sick idiot. You also couldn't wait till later.

Signing out at 5pm on the dot, you pack away your work things now you are back home. The renovations were still ongoing, the noise reverberating through your apartment like wildfire, making plans in your head to go out for dinner, until your phone rings, halting all other thoughts.

You see Jackson's name on your screen, scrambling to answer it and taking a deep breath to quell the excitement before you speak.

“Well, this is a nice surprise.” you start, sounding a lot cooler than you feel.

His deep laughter vibrates your ear, sending delicious shivers down your spine. “There's no chickens here today, ma’am.”

You can't help but laugh at his reference to your earlier comment. “I can see that. Nice to hear from you. How was the game?”

Settling on your sofa, pulling you legs up to get cosy, you listen in.

“Yea, good, my team won, of course.”

How can his voice sound even more devastating over the phone? Every word drips with velvet.

“There's nothing wrong with your ego, is there?” you tease.

“Not when it comes to things I know I'm good at.”

“And I bet you're good at many things.” the words leave your mouth before you can stop them, hanging in the air thick and heavy, until he speaks.

“I guess you'll just have to stick around and find out.”

You hold in the squeal that's bursting to escape, as more loud bangs and drilling sound around you.

“What on earth is that sound?” He asks.

Letting out a frustrated sigh you explain about your neighbours and your plans to stay out this evening, hoping when you return the noise would have dissipated somewhat.

“If you're free tonight, why don't we have dinner?” He asks, sounding nervous for the first time today.

Biting your lip and grinning you nod frantically, “oh sorry,” you laugh, realising he can't see you, “I was nodding. I would love that.”

“Ok, great, I'll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Perfect.” Holy fuck, you need to get ready fast.

You text him your address and raid your wardrobe, opting for a black dress with flat shoes, something simple but classic so you would fit whatever type of restaurant you go to. Your hair is beyond saving, so you pull it up in a rough bun, which for once turns out great. You neaten the very minimal makeup you have on when your doorbell goes. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest, galloping like a horse that carries you to your front door. Pulling it open, your mind goes blank seeing him standing there all in black. A fitted black t-shirt, with black trousers and shoes, he looked devastating in such a simple ensemble.

“You look…” swallowing and trying to appear calm, “amazing.”

His answering smile almost floors you. “I was thinking the same thing, you look beautiful. And we match.”

Looking down at your outfit you can't help but laugh at the coincidence.

“Are you ready to go?” He asks.

Nodding, you grab your bag and keys and lock up. His fingers entwine through yours and he searches your eyes for permission, smiling as you give his hand a reassuring squeeze. It feels nice, the simple action of your hands clasped together, natural and comfortable. Your usual first date nerves have evaporated, maybe it's because you've spent time with him already, maybe it's because you know what it's like to kiss him, or maybe he's just a good match for you. Only time will tell.

#kvanity #got7 writers collective #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfiction #jackson wang #got7 jackson #got7 jackson wang #jackson wang fanfiction #jackson wang fanfic #jackson angst #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang fic

122 notes · View notes