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luneaticlab · 5 months

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AMORE (Chapter 1)

Pairing - CEO!Jungkook x Secretary!reader (female)

synopsis- Never in a million years you thought you'd end up with your boss, in bed.

Word count- 1.4k

IMPORTANT NOTE - Hey guys, this my first fic. I promise I'll improve. love and feedback are always welcomed.

•I do not own any of the pictures•

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

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"come again?"

hesitantly, you repeated the words you said to your bestfriend a few seconds ago "The last time i got laid was 13 months ago..?"

"Girl, are you fucking serious?" Lena, your bestfriend not-so-aggresively threw her hands in the air.

"What's wrong with it? You know i'm not the type to have one night stands and shit" you justified defensively, delicately caressing your 5 month old persian cat, fluff.

"Dude you are in your twenties, you are hot, rich and single, what's wrong with having some fun before you settle down?" all you did was roll your eyes, ready to nag her about hygiene during sex.

"Don't tell me you still have a crush on your jackass boss" alice appeared from your kitchen, a cup of hot choco keeping her hands warm.

you were taken aback, yes, you did have a crush on your not-so-jackass boss, maybe you still do, no one knows, you are too busy with work to think about that. But something about him just makes your thighs clench.

His thick thighs which you would die to sit on, his tiddies who always threaten to come out(thanks to the buttons which do not let them), and his freaking jawline which you want to hold so bad when he kisses you.

Just to be clear the chances of this happening is 0.01% .

He's the typical rich, young, hot bachelor desired by multiple women and owned by none. Somehow you always managed to keep a very professional relationship with him so far. But what's life without some thrill?

"Jeon jeongguk? go ahead , have sex with him then. A rich man is a rich man" Lena suggests as if she's telling you to pick out some roses from the neighbour's garden.

"sure, find me a now job by tomorrow then" Lena chuckles at your reponse.

"Girl, its not that hard, he's a man and he might have needs too, if you really want him on the top then maybe wear some sexy clothes at work, you guys see each other everyday"

"Yeah yeah i'll think about it" you shrugged off the topic, not wanting to discuss it further.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。

"fuck!" You finally found your release , turned the vibrator off, took a shower, slouched on your bed releasing a lazy sigh

Yes ,the vibrator did wonders when you got it for the first time, but you've become too used to it, you knew you needed more and by more you meant jungkook's dic-

you pushed your sinful thoughts out of the way and forced yourself to sleep.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:

next day , 7.39 a.m

You got out of the shower, fresh and clean. Done with the skincare and your usual makeup (nude lips are mandatory!) .you were about to pick your grey sweatshirt, Lena's words resonating in your ears.

Fuck it, it's now or never.

you put the sweatshirt right where it belonged. Took out a white tube top which covered half of your tits, wore a black trouser matching with the blazer of the same colour of the trouser. A black nano belt bag from celine completing your look. Quickly wearing your jimmy choo high heels, you stepped out of your apartment, you felt confident.

You were aware of the stares you were getting at the office, you weren't surprised, not your fault you look good with a minimum effort.

You spot your coworker Diana at the cafeteria, she waves at you , her look telling you that she's got something for you

"Hey y/n, I've completed the list of the guests we are going to invite at the company's gala, Do you mind passing it to Mr.Jeon? I got some last minute work to do." She asked holding your hand

Bingo

"Sure, why not , I was about to give him his espresso anyway." you smile at her politely before taking the file.

Quickly making your way upstairs, you fic your hair before you knock his door.

'"Come in"

"Good morning Mister Jeon, the list for the guests for our company's gala dinner has been finalized." You said as you placed his espresso and the file on his table.

He looked up to see you, "Alright, thank you y/n, I hope you didn't forget we have to go to daegu today."

You caught him stealing a glance at your chest.

"Ofcourse sir" you smiled curtly before leaving his office, swaying your hips on purpose while doing so.

Jeongguk and you had to go to Daegu today for the monthly inspection of the company's factory there.

Being Jeongguk's secretary was undeniably challenging, but the salary was enough motivation to continue doing your job.

・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜

3.39 p.m

"Mister Jeon, we are ready to leave." You said as you peeked out your head from the door into his office.

He nodded while fixing his blue Ralph Lauren coat as he walked past you , you followed him behind, making sure everything is on the right place.

You looked at him from behind, good Lord he was so damn hot then you looked at yourself. You guys would make such a power couple in your opinion.

"Did you have lunch sir?" You asked knowing he might not have eaten given the fact that he absorbs himself too much in his work once he starts.

"I didn't have time to"

"I figured, I ordered chipotle for you, will you be okay with a burrito bowl ?" Jungkook liked having light meals on work days and he gets carsick easily so chipotle was the best option.

"Yes, thank you y/n i appreciate it." He said gratefully, flashing you a small smile which you could write a whole thesis on.

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You were driving the car and the ride was smooth, you guys talked about work related stuff. Until,

"How have you been lately, y/n?" Jeongguk asked out of nowhere.you glanced at him for a second before replying "I've been good, pretty much the same since 2 years. working on weekdays, staying at home on the weekends. Oh, and I've got a new roommate – a furry one. Adopted a cat a few months back. It's nice having someone waiting for me at home, you know?"

You have no idea why you are giving a detailed explanation instead of the typical 'I'm doing good' but it is what it is.

"Any special someone in the picture?" He asked, a hint of uncertainty laced in his voice.

You glance at him again in surprise before refocusing on the road, this guy is really picking his moments. "No special someone right now sir, how about you?" He started this.

He chuckled a little,"Not at the moment, not into relationships anyway."

well damn, at least it was worth the try.

You catch jungkook looking at you a lot of times during the ride.

"We have reached, sir." You both get out of the car and head towards the factory.

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7:51 p.m, Daegu.

It was pouring cats and dogs.

"I think we should book a hotel and stay there for the night". Jungkook suggested while looking up. All of the workers were leaving and driving in this crazy rain is dangerous.

"But i don't have any spare clothes."

"Should we buy them on the way?" Jungkook asked finally looking at you.

"I think we should."

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You guys found the nearest hotel, and went to your respective rooms.Jungkook chose a package of 1 night+ dinner because you guys didn't eat anything after lunch.

"Let us change then meet at the dinner hall yeah?" Jungkook said looking at you, your clothes were a little drenched, the droplets on your half-exposed boobs were visible and he can see your bra underneath the white tube top.

"Sure , sir"

You guys literally shoved your faces in the food because the meal was ten out of ten and ya'll were hungry as hell.

When you entered the elevator, jungkook looked at you for a second before speaking " Good day today"

You smiled at him. Damn that smile, he couldn't control himself , he brought his face closer to yours, literally a gap of 2 centimeters between. "Can I kiss you?" He asked , it came like a whisper.

"Please" You practically whimpered.

Just like that, his lips were on yours.

To be continued

#jungkook bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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kittycat-in-the-dark · 1 year

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*Tim looking tired as shit and being an asshole to everything that breathes near him*

Jason: Jesus kid, what train hit you?

Tim: *irritated* Don't call me kid. And the train that hit me is this stupid lead that I got stuck on for 3 days! I need to find that fucker-

Jason: Wow! Slow down a little...

Tim: I CAN'T SLOW DOWN IF I SLOW DOWN I AM GONNA SLEEP. IF I SLEEP I WON'T CATCH THIS VILLAIN AND GOTHAM WILL BE DOOMED. AND IF GOTHAM IS DOO- *Tim falls asleep mid sentece*

*Tim wakes up after hitting his head on the Batcomputer*

Tim: *looks at Jason* What was I saying...

Jason: *getting out of his shock* ...That you either need 3 full days of sleep or a DynaPep with 3 shots of espresso??...

Tim: *squinting his eyes* Ya... that... that sounds about right...

Jason: Which one? The healthy option or the vigilante no sleep version?

Tim: *looking annoyed at Jay*

Jason: *stares back confused as to why Tim looks at him like he offended his honor or something*

Tim: *long sigh* Okay, fine. Give me that drink.

----------one super energetic drink later-----------

*Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian, Steph and Cass stare at a Batcave's wall full of detailed plans to take down all the rogues in Gotham as Tim continues to write and loudly murmur to himself*

Steph: How... how did this happen?

Tim: *louder* THIS IS PERFECT!! *cackle* AND THEN I AM GONNA TAKE OVER THE LEAGUE OF ASSASSINS AND RA'S WON'T EVEN SEE ME COMING... HE HAS TO PAY ME FOR THAT SPLEEN THAT I LOST IN HIS STUPID MISSION TO TAKE DOWN THE SPIDERS!! AND THEN I WILL EXPAND MY PLANS TO ALL THE JUSTICE LEAGUE LEVEL ROGUES AND I WILL FINALLY WIN THIS STUPID NEVER ENDING WAR AGAINST CRIME ONCE AND FOR ALL!! *laughs like a maniac*

Jason: *still staring at Tim like the others* Umm... I gave him a juiced up coffee to help him get over a case that was giving him trouble... he found the guy he was looking for not even 2 hours later, then returned mumbling to himself and started researching and writing on the walls like a maniac... I thought the kid had coffee before... right?

Alfred: *that appeared besides them without anyone notecing* That is true... but usually Master Tim takes what could be considered small doses of caffeine diluted in some tea. Not an entire cup of almost pure caffeine, I am afraid...

Jason: Well, shit...

*Tim continues to rant and make plans about basically world domination at that point... for about 2 more hours until he just falls off the Dinosaur where he was making his "Ultimate Speech to the World"

The other Batcave residents just hear a thud and run to see Jason on the ground under the Dinosaur with a sleeping Tim on his chest*

Jason: *sounding super exhausted after he followed Tim around during all of his crazy talk and final "Ultimate Speech"* Never let me give Tim a coffee ever again... EVER!! *and he collapses into sleep too*

*The others just nod to Jay's previous statement and Bruce picks up his boys to put them to a proper sleep, thinking about how to deal with Tim's crazy plans plastered all over the Batcave*

#just wanted to write something fun lol #also I wrote this because Tim isn't actually that used or addicted to coffee in canon #and drinks caffeine only when he needs it and in teas that Alfred makes him #so I just thought that if Tim were to drink a stronger coffee he will just go insane for a couple of hours until he collapses lol #tim drake #jason todd #batfam #batbros #dc comics #dc headcanon #incorrect batfamily quotes #jay talks here

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toomuchracket · 1 year

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happiness

my first fic for everyone's parasocial husband ross! that beautiful man RADIATES comfort and domesticity, and frankly it's a crime that there are like no fics of him as a dad on here, so that's what this is: ross and his wifey enjoying a chill day at home with their month-old daughter (featuring excited best friend matty, because it's funny and you're all rabid matty stans (mood, tbf)). also, spoiler alert for the season 2 finale of New Girl? enjoy!

stifling a yawn with your hoodie-covered fist, you pad into the kitchen of your house, the chill of the tiled floor noticeable even through your socks. ross, clad in a hoodie much like your (well, his) own, is fiddling about with the espresso machine you guys got as a wedding present from adam and carly. sunshine streams through the window and glints off the ring on his left hand, which makes your cheeks lift into a smile.

coming up behind your husband, you wrap your arms as best you can around his muscular torso, pressing your forehead to his back and inhaling his scent, a heady mix of sandalwood aftershave and laundry detergent from the hoodie. without turning around, ross takes your left hand in his and kisses it softly just below your wedding ring, then speaks. "she settled down ok, i take it?"

"went out like a light," you reply. "she is your daughter, after all."

ross chuckles, still busying himself with the coffee contraption. "not like her mother, fighting to stay awake despite exhaustion," he mocks, turning in your hold to look at you pointedly, although there's a playful sparkle in his dark eyes. ross passes you a steaming espresso cup - comically tiny in his massive hands - and plants another soft kiss on your forehead. "thought you might need that, my love."

you murmur a thank you and tip the contents of the cup into your mouth, wincing at the overwhelming initial combination of heat and bitterness. it softens into something pleasant as it travels down your throat, though, and you shiver as you feel the caffeine take effect.

ross, ever-attentive to your every move, places his hands on your waist, eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. "you ok?"

"mhmm."

ross doesn't seem convinced. "you look exhausted, love. do you want another coffee? or a nap?"

you smirk as you place the empty cup onto the counter, bringing your hands up to rest on your husband's broad chest. "trying to get me into bed, mr macdonald?"

"always, mrs macdonald," ross quips back, his face softening and his grip on your waist relaxing. he leans down, you rise up on tiptoe, and your lips meet somewhere in the middle. despite the back-and-forth innuendo, there's no desire behind the kiss - well, none more than usual, when your husband looks as good as he does. it's tender, soft, romantic; just dreamy, really.

you open your eyes slowly as ross pulls his lips away from yours and trails them gently down towards your neck, smiling as his facial hair tickles your bare skin. he presses a soft kiss under your chin, then whispers in your ear. "d'you think we'll have time to watch an episode of new girl before bean wakes up?"

"god, domestic life really has changed you," you tease, stroking your husband's head as he nuzzles into you. "you used to sneak me away for quickies when we had any free time, and now you just want to watch sitcoms."

"it's your fault, bloody putting it on for a rewatch and getting me hooked," ross laughs. he begins pressing kisses into your neck; softly at first, then slightly more passionate, which makes your head spin a little. "but i'm more than happy to go back to the quickies as soon as we've been given the go-ahead to do so. always wanted to shag a milf, actually."

"easy, tiger," you giggle, pulling ross up to plant a quick kiss on his lips before leading him to the living room. "come on, let's see what jess and nick are up to today."

the two of you settle in your usual position on the couch; you perched sideways on ross' lap, his head resting on your chest, a soft tartan blanket covering you both. you control the remote, letting out a quiet whoop when you see that elaine's big day is today's episode. "oh, this is a good one!"

"you've said that about every episode so far."

"i know, but... shut up, and just watch."

ross chuckles, but does as he's told. you half-watch the episode (admittedly, you've seen it four times already) and half-watch him, smiling at his reactions; his quiet "aww" when schmidt sees cece in her wedding outfit, his cringes at nick and winston's antics, and - your favourite - his shocked gasp when elaine finally appears onscreen. "taylor swift?!"

his handsome face is so incredulous that you can't help but laugh. "told you it was a good episode."

"i can't believe they just revealed taylor swift like that," ross mutters, in obvious shock. his eyes widen, and he turns to face you. "wait, is this how the fans felt when we brought her out onstage at the o2 that time?"

you smile, opening your mouth to answer affirmatively; before you can, though, faint cries start to come through the baby monitor on the coffee table. clicking off the tv and throwing the blanket to one side, you and ross peel yourselves off the couch to stand. "well, we might not have made it through the whole episode" you begin, stretching slightly. "but at least bean had the good grace to wait until we'd seen taylor before she woke up and wanted attention."

ross laughs, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards the stairs. "prioritising taylor swift over her own needs? she's more like you than we thought."

you hit him gently on the arm. your daughter's cries increase in volume as you near her nursery, and even though you know she's alright the sound makes your heart ache. "it's alright, princess, we're coming!"

the two of you enter the sage-painted room and make a beeline for the crib, where your tiny girl whines and wriggles in discomfort. she stops crying as soon as ross gently lifts her up, cooing softly at her. "don't worry, bean, daddy's got you."

you caress the shock of dark hair on her little head, clearly inherited from her father; the big eyes she gazes at you sweetly with, though, are all yours. "do you need changing, princess? i think you do," you say, looking up at your husband. "do you want me to-"

"i've got her, love," ross replies, kissing your head as he carries the baby to her changing station. "will you grab me another outfit for her, though?"

"sure," you say, heading to the faded white wardrobe in the corner of the room as ross cleans up and babbles to your daughter ("for someone so tiny, you're quite good at being so stinky... but you're sooooo cute, you're just like mummy, she's cute too"), which makes your heart swell with love. you rifle through the - honestly excessive - collection of baby clothes hanging up neatly, until a black onesie with a familiar white decal on the front makes you stop in your tracks. perfect.

as you head back over to ross and the baby, anticipation of showing them your outfit pick growing with every step, the doorbell rings. ross and you lock eyes, confused; you hand him the onesie, without looking to see his reaction, and hurry downstairs to answer the door. nearing it, you can see a familiar mess of dark curls through the glass panes, which comes into focus as you open the door.

across the threshold, laden with a mixture of gift and shopping bags, stands an extremely tanned and beaming matty. "surprise!" he cries, ever the drama queen. "there she is, my new favourite milf!"

"eww, freak," you faux-grumble, pulling him as best you can into a hug while avoiding being bashed by his bags. "come in. how was louis' wedding?"

"well, you know my brother. it was full-on, but good," replies matty, following you into the hallway and putting his stuff down on the ground. "would've been better if someone hadn't stolen the limelight by going into labour the day of the rehearsal dinner, though. it was all anyone could talk about - everyone got off their flights into milan and immediately went 'did you hear baby macdonald's on the way?'. you couldn't have kept your legs shut for a few more days?"

you glare at matty for a few seconds, then the two of you break into snorts of laughter. aside from your literal husband, matty is the person in the band you're closest to; the two of you are best friends, a double act built on awful senses of humour and dubiously-fake pretentiousness, and he's the only person in the world who loves ross almost as much as you do.

when you stop laughing, matty places both hands on your shoulders and looks at you from arm's length-away. "nah, for real, you look well. i'm glad," he says, smiling earnestly at you and hugging you properly. he then claps his hands together once, a signifier of a change in conversation topic. "now - where's my best friend, and where's this new baba i've heard so much about?"

"in her room," you say as you nod towards the staircase. you begin to climb up, matty hot on your heels. his obvious excitement is quite touching, but you can't resist throwing a dig at him whenever possible. "and she has a name, you know."

"a flipping indecipherable one" your friend mutters under his breath.

you whip around when you reach the first landing, glaring at him seriously this time. "don't you fucking start, healy."

matty raises his hands in defensive apology. "christ, sorry! i just don't know how to pronounce some scottish names. is it like eye- oh."

you've reached the baby's room, where ross stands in the doorway with your daughter in his arms. she looks so small against him, one tiny hand reaching up in an attempt to play with the cord of his hoodie. your husband grins at matty - standing statue-still with an awestruck expression - and speaks softly. "matthew, this is eilidh."

you both watch your friend watch your daughter, his mouth moving soundlessly as he inputs the pronunciation of her name into his brain. ay-ly. matty's eyes, which appear to be welling up, flick up to ross', and he sniffles through a grin. "god, rass, you're such a dilf."

"agreed," you pipe up, smirking at your husband.

ross shifts the still-awake eilidh so she's tucked safely into the curve of one arm and laughs, minding his volume so as to not freak her out. with the other, he reaches for his best friend; they each wrap an arm around the other's shoulders, as they must have done a million times in their lives. "so, what d'you think of your new goddaughter?"

for the second time in less than five minutes, matty freezes. his jaw drops, and he looks between ross' face and yours in utter shock. "for real? i'm her godfather?" you nod, smiling, and matty's eyes start to well up again. he leans over to look at eilidh, who placidly returns his gaze, and the tears begin to fall. "she's so- oh my god, she's wearing self-titled merch!"

matty crouches to the floor and covers his face, fully sobbing. ross quirks his lip at you in confusion, then pats matty's head gently with his free hand. "i know, mate, her outfit did me in too."

"she's just so little," comes the reply from the floor, voice wracked with sobs. matty drags himself up to standing, wiping his eyes. "christ, i can't cope."

for some inane reason, your maternal instinct seems to kick in at the sight of him. you walk over to your friend and wrap your arms around him comfortingly; matty rests his head on your shoulder, his chest still heaving sporadically as he continues to cry. "what's all this about, mate?" you say softly, in a tone not dissimilar to the one you use to address your month-old daughter. "i thought you hated kids?"

"i do, mostly," matty replies, voice muffled by your (ross') hoodie. he begins crying harder again. "but she's half of two of my favourite people in the world, so she's perfect, and she's just so tiny!"

you're not sure if it's the postnatal hormones coursing through you, or if it's pride in getting matthew healy to be serious and emotional for once, but you feel your bottom lip tremble the way it does before you start to cry. ross, too, is welling up as he wraps his free arm around matty; soon, the only person in the room not crying is eilidh, who stares at you all in what appears to be judgement. matty is the first to notice her expression, a laugh lifting his tear-stricken cheeks. "wow, kid, you really do look like your mum."

you smack matty lightly on the back of the head, moving to stand next to your husband and daughter. you lift eilidh out of ross' arms, holding her up so your faces are level; she beams toothlessly at you, chubby hands reaching for your cheeks, earning a short refrain of "awws" from your audience. after kissing her on the forehead briefly, you turn her so she's between you and ross, all three members of your little family facing matty. "right, we need you to settle an argument."

matty's brow furrows. "oh?"

ross rolls his eyes. "jesus, not this again."

you ignore your husband's input and continue talking. "yeah. whose nose has she inherited, mine or his? we can't tell."

"hmmmm," matty ponders. he steps closer to the three of you, scrutinising ross first, then you, then stops in front of eilidh, directly addressing her. "i don't know whose nose you got either, darlin', but on you it is very, very cute."

he punctuates the end of his sentence with a tentative boop to your daughter's tiny nose, which makes her gurgle happily. matty giggles, and you turn to look lovingly at ross, who reciprocates your expression as he helps you hold eilidh.

matty steps back again, surveying the scene before him adoringly; his two best friends and the baby they made together, the love in the room palpable in the air. "i love you guys. this just feels... right. like this is how life was always supposed to be for you."

you're inclined to agree.

#here's some fluff have fun #can u tell i had a domestic dream about ross recently?#mads does writing #ross macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fic #the 1975

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everythingne · 5 months

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out of the woods - ls2 [2]

With a home race that couldn't go better, Dhanishka feels the confidence to let loose. But, Bahrain's post race celebration brings up some confusing feelings Dhanishka definitely won't handle the best. Charles plays the disappointed older brother role very well, Daniel is a bit of an enabler as is Lando, who also wins a bet with McLaren. Also, the FIA makes a weird call.

logan sargeant x ferrari!ex!oc

fc: iffat marash (and other pinterest girlies)

warnings/notes: mentions of past car accidents, drunkeness, a makeout scene, tbh if logan looked at me the way i describe here i would fold oops. conflicting feelings here for miss dubey

(part one) (part three)

Bahrain hasn't even started, my home race hasn't even started, and I already feel like I'm about to snap. I knew coming into this race there was a lot of pressure on me to do well, not to mention how basically everyone I knew and their fucking mother was here, but from Ferrari alone. This was the season they planned to solidify Charles and I next to Red Bull. They'd been secretive about their car, their plans, and whatever, just to hopefully psyche out the other teams.

Personally, I just wanted to win for myself, but thats a whole other story.

When I walk in the race, cameras are on me faster than I can say my name, thousands of eyes watching the only rookie this season as she makes her way into her paddock. Inside the paddock is no better, and the garage can't even be a safe haven as reporters walking the pit lane try to get video of me and Charles greeting eachother.

He's like a bright red beacon of safety admist the chaos of this morning. He hands me a coffee, says it's supposed to be some sort of weird chai thing. It tastes... like slightly more bitter and heavily espresso filled chai. But I drink it anyway because lord knows I need the energy.

"You look stressed, is it the race?" Charles asks after our debriefing, when I'm working on reaction times. I keep working at whacking the buttons, eyes trained on the center as I also work my periphery.

"I think so." I say, uninterested, and Charles purposefully messes up the game so I look at him with a loud exclamation. He grins, and I get now why Arthur had punched Charles in the arm as a greeting once. He looks like a cat that knows it's done something wrong, but smugly doesn't care. Like my aunt's big brown cat named Porsche.

They'd bought her a 'Porsche' for her birthday that year. Haha.

"What's it actually?" Charles asks when I catch my breath a little, taking a big gulp of water and then sipping on the coffee-chai-thing.

"I talked to Logan after we left the resturant and I can't stop thinking about it." I set down the cup and go to return to the game before Charles grabs my wrist and pulls me back.

"Do you wanna talk about it before the race? Maybe get it out of your system so it doesn't affect you while driving?"

"You're talking like you speak from experience."

"Maybe I do." He hums and I huff through my nose, before grabbing both of my drinks when he nods his head back to his drivers room. Probably the only place here we could get privacy. He pops me down on his couch and sits next to me, motioning for me to talk.

I stammer a bit before sighing, “Logan still thinks it’s my fault. He still thinks I had something to do with the accident. And I’m a fucking idiot because I still love him.”

Charles’ eyes widen as I lean forward and huff, rubbing my forehead as I keep talking, “I still love him after three years. And he doesn’t love me back and that hurts but I can’t do anything about it.”

"you still love him?" He asks and I nod, and then hitch forward with a sharp gasp. It's like saying the words out loud have thrown every possible emotion in my face. Anger at him for breaking up, regret for not chasing him, a deep sorrow for the things we'd lost. He had been my first love, something so innocent. I didn't know how I was supposed to live without him.

"I do," I whisper through the lump in my throat, "I love him, but I can't even look at him without feeling sick."

For once with all the issues I've come to tell Charles about, this is one that stumps him. But he wraps an arm around me, pulling him to his side as he rubs his hand along my back and I curl into his touch. I don't exactly cry, but I more so just hyperventilate.

And it takes maybe ten minutes for me to calm down fully and when I do, Charles squeezes my hands.

"No matter what happens, I've got you." He says softly, "just like at dinner, I've got you."

I nod and he hands me a tissue, I fix up my makeup and stand, letting him escort me back out to the garage so we can go get out fireproofs and race suits.

The sun is long set when we start the race, the warm up lap making my nerves spark as my fingers twitch on the steering wheel. I knew Bahrain's track like the backs of my hands, I knew exactly what to expect and what to do and where to go. Starting p8 wasn't terrible, I would've preferred to be higher but I'll take what I can get. In front of me is Yuki, Carlos, Daniel, Charles, Oscar, Lando, and Max. With Logan directly behind me and Alex behind him.

I'm not super worried about Alex, but Logan had a pretty similar driving style to me so I worry about him coming and overtaking me. I know I can overtake Yuki, Carlos, and Daniel if I give myself time and risk going wide when it comes to Carlos, but Lando, Oscar and Max will be my biggest competition. Though I'm not sure about Charles, I guess it depends on what we're told on the radio.

Within the first five laps, I've gotten past Yuki and Carlos, but Daniel's giving me a run for my money. Charles even tries helping, but it's no use, and I take my place behind Daniel for the foreseeable future. I don't mind it, holding P6 at the beginning isn't the worst scenario. I just have to wait until people starting going in for tire changes and such, hopefully I'll be able to use that to get around.

Eventually, Daniel understeers and it gives me a perfect opportunity to whip around him and I solidify myself in P5. Oscar's ahead of me, Lando ahead of him, Charles in P2 and then Max holds P1. Charles is fighting him for it and I'm impressed with how we're doing so far.

At some point Logan comes up behind me, I'm only alerted via the radio for half a second before I see him try and push me to the edge of the track. I speed up, purposefully oversteering the turn to knock him off my back.

By the end of the race, I find myself P3 by a goddamn thread. Lando having wing damage making it easier for me to snag around him in one of the last turns. Charles isn't far ahead of me, and Max holds his P1 usual. Lando's P4, Oscar P5, and Logan P6. Everyone else is pretty much scrambled, almost all the racers overtaking someone multiple times throughout the race.

I can't really feel anything under the thrum of my excitement, Charles coming up behind me and lifting me off the ground in celebration as Max laughs from a distance. We're making our way to the stage for the podium, helmets off and a hat secured over my head to block out the sun and my post-race helmet hair.

"Lets go! 'Ishka!" Charles jumps and I laugh, whacking him on the head as he hoists me in the air.

"Congrats, kid." Max grabs the brim of my hat and yanks it down, making me yelp in surprise as Charles sets me down. I fix the brim of my hat while Charles laughs, trying to help me yank down Max's hat too before I'm called to walk up on stage.

The roar of the audience is deafening, the announcement a warble as I take the trophy with a thank you and shook the hand of the woman who gave it to me. I lift it above my head, the noise only growing, and I can't help the satisfied shout that leaves my throat in celebration.

Dipping back into the paddock, I see Logan being ushered away from me by Alex. Even though the sight of him makes my throat close and stomach drop, I try to keep my head up. I try to not let it affect me, but I know it does.

I told Logan the truth. I let him him go because he wanted to go. Nothing Logan did now would change the way my heart ached for him. In F2 I learned quickly to shove my emotions down and never let them escape me, and when I wasn't in the safety of Charles' company, I felt like I had fallen back into that same routine again.

Cold, sharper than a tack, everything rolled right off. I bit my tongue when necessary, fought back only when provoked.

It was nothing like how I had been before Trident. That much was known. But I wasn't about to be used again. Never again.

A few hours later, we're at the hotel Charles is staying in, him laying face first on his bed while I fix up my makeup in a mirror for the upteenth time. Another night out is in order to celebrate the season kickoff, Max inviting Charles and I along with him, Daniel, and Carlos to some sort club I've been to a hundred times already.

Once I've used Charles' bathroom to change into my clothes for the night, I'm wrapping a large Ferrari jacket around myself to be a bit more 'presentable' until we get to the club. I lean into the mirror to check and secure all my jewlery before I make my way out of the bathroom.

Charles looks up from where he's sitting in one of the chairs in the hotel room, his eyes doing a quick once over before he grins and stands up. He's wearing some jeans and a loose black button-up, a gold necklace swinging before settling against his collarbones as he makes his way to my side.

"Revenge dress?" He muses to me with a smirk and I whack his arm with a loud laugh, shaking my head as I walk to grab my purse off the coffee table.

"It wasn't intended to be, but sure." I grin as I take a sip from my wine glass on the table, eyeing the now empty bottle we were using to loosely pregame the night, "Glad to see you've gotten a bit of fashion advice, the polo looks good. If Max is wearing anything Red Bull I'll choke him out."

"I'll help you." Charles laughed and hands me his wallet. I pop it in my purse without thinking, I know it's so I don't run off without him, and I pretend to be annoyed. But the action is sweet.

"We have a little private room with some of the other drivers," Charles grabs our phones off the charges and hands me mine as he pockets his, fixes his hair in some sort of habit, and then looks back to me as he grabs the handle of the door, "So, you can leave your stuff there until we leave."

"Sounds good to me." I follow him out the door, my heels clicking on the tile on the hallway as we move down to where the carpet starts. Charles turns back to me as he walks, watching me dig out my car keys. When I lift my eyes to meet him he scratches his jaw and then speaks.

"Logan's gonna be there. That's fine with you?" Charles asks. I had told him in the garage this morning about my argument with Logan. It had been eating at me, and Charles being ever the observant picked up on my shift in attitude before I did.

"I probably won't even see him, this club is always packed." I reason, even with the private room. I'd spend most of my time at the bar. If I was with my friends, also the dancefloor, but I had a suspicion I wouldn't be doing much dancing tonight.

"You sure?" Charles holds the elevator door open for me, letting me step in and press the button for the lobby. I nod, adjusting my outfit a little bit as I look over at him.

"It's fine, I'm over it." I shrug, looking at myself in the mirrored doors of the elevator and fixing up my hair loosely. I can feel the elevator slowly start to lower and I grin at myself.

Maybe it was the confidence from my win, but I looked good tonight.

"You cried over him this morning and now you're saying you're over it?" Charles hums, thinking back clearly to me frustrated for no reason this morning and his intervention with led to me half-hyperventilating into his chest.

"I got P3 in my first F1 race, Charles. No one can touch me. I'm hot, sexy, and breaking the Ferrari curse." I playfully do a little z-snap that has Charles chuckling as the doors open to the lobby and he brings me out to an awaiting car. This was something else I would never get used to, how we all just kinda casually had luxury vehicles. Now, my parents were well off, my father a CEO and my mother a tailor, and they had plenty of money to give to me and my sister if we needed it. But it hadn't always been that way. So the Ferrari just idling outside the hotel, clearly brought over by Ferrari for Charles and I to drive like once this whole weekend is a shock to me.

He lets me in the back, then gets in the passengers, instructing the driver on where to go while I lean back with a content sigh and watch the streetlights pass.

dhanishkadubey made a new post!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, and 254k others...

dhanishkadubey: kicking off the start of a wonderful szn. much love to the tifosi 🏎️ ❤️ (📷: @ charlesleclerc)

charlesleclerc: ❤️

danielricciardo: this bitch drinks fireball like water.

dhanishkadubey: ur rlly exposing me like this danny :(?

user1: congrats on p3!!!

oscarpiastri: go dhanishka go !!

user2: tensions rising in the loscar fandom tn

maxverstappen: great start to your rookie year, dhanishka :)

anyadubey: YAAA THATS MY SEXY SISTER!!!

user3: actually in love w her.

When we arrive at the club, the place is already going hard. Early 2000s music pulses from various speakers, the lights flashing to the beat of who I think is Britney Spears mixed with that one song from Saltburn. It's Daniel who greets us in the upstairs room, showing me where to leave my bag and jacket while Charles is escorted off to the side by Pierre and Max. I spot Esteban and Lance chatting idly with Magnussen and some other racers. It's odd combinations tonight, as the grouping strays from the normal clumps of friends, but it means I find myself engrossed in a conversation with Alex and George maybe thirty minutes after getting inside.

"I seriously thought you were gonna be much meaner!" George shouts over the pulsing music and I laugh as he hands me my drink from the bartender. I thank him softly and take a big sip, nodding at the sour taste im expecting from the cocktail.

Catching George's eye, I tease, "Do you want me to be?"

"God no," George waves a hand in my direction with a soft laugh, something playful and almost childlike gleaming in his eyes as he tilts his head, "Carmen's plenty mean to me."

"Oh stop!" Alex scoffs, whacking George's arm, "As if Carmen's little jabs equate to Lily's!"

"Didn't you literally call Lily the doll from Squid Game?" I ask, then pop my straw in my mouth and take a slow sip. Alex freezes as if he's been caught red handed, and George suppresses a giggle.

"Look..." Alex holds up a hand in defense but George and I are laughing too hard to really hear whatever excuse he uses to defend his actions.

"Okay, can I ask you a question, Dhanishka?" Alex asks after we've calmed down, leaning forward on the bar as I settle in my seat with George on my other side. I nod and he swallows and I can see him roll the question through his head. He takes a sip of his drink, swallows, and turns to ask, "If you wanna answer, what exactly happened with you and Logan? 'Cause he's been moping since you got announced to be racing with Ferrari and I might lose my mind if he doesn't knock it off."

"Oh god," I say into my midori sour, taking the bitter drink into my mouth and swallowing it and setting my hand over the cup. George leans over to look, head slightly tilted like a puppy as Alex quickly speaks up.

"If you don't wanna say anything, it's fine, but--"

"--No, no. It's fine Alex," I wave a hand, "uhm, Logan and I started dating when we were racing in Renault, but we'd been kinda... I guess flirty since the end of our formative years and into like secondary school. We were... I was fifteen, so he was seventeen or sixteen at the time? It was just like... puppy love, y'know? Pure and innocent, nothing too serious.

"And, we were both in love and it was nice. It really was nice. But, when that crash happened with Trident, I think something snapped in him. I... the breakup... it came from nowhere. I don't know if it was because he was mad, thinking I had something to do with it, or if he just... didn't know what to do and needed control after Trident took that P2 position from him? I don't know. We hadn't spoken since that day until last night."

"You talked to him last night?" Alex asks with slightly wide eyes and I nod, taking another sip of my drink.

"We argued about it last night while waiting to leave." I sigh, rolling my shoulders as I pop the straw between my lips and take a long slow sip, then speak, "He thought I had something to do with the crash, I told him I didn't, he asked me why I let him leave--which, Alex, feel free to tell him I think that's a dumb fucking question. I wasn't gonna force him to stay if he was unhappy, or if he didn't wanna date anymore. I'm not a monster."

"Wait, wait," George waves a hand to grab my attention and I turn to him with a soft hum, "So is he mad at you?"

"I don't know," I finish off my drink, noticing both George and Alex are not even halfway down their respective drinks, "I can't tell with him. I would completely understand if he was furious about everything, but none of it was my fault. I didn't even know Trident planned to crash into him!"

"I'm gonna try talking to him," Alex looks over at someone to the right of me and I don't have to look to know he means Logan's there. I nod, sip my drink, and excuse myself to go back to the room. George escorts me up there, to make sure I'm fine, and then leaves me to Daniel who grins.

"You've had something to drink, right?" He asks and I nod, but happily join him and Lando at the bar for shots of various alcohols. And I end up drinking a few glasses of soju back to back with Max at one point, introducing him and Checo to different flavors while Daniel laughs at Max's shock over how everything just tastes like a slightly sour juice. I'm finishing my fourth glass of soju when I start to feel woozy. Taking a water from the bartender, I count the drinks I've had in my head and roughly equate them to about a handle of alcohol.

Lando orders a final round of shots for us, Fireball burning down my throat.

"Danny!" I call to the Australian, who turns in a full circle before realizing wher eI am. He nods and steps closer so I don't have to shout.

"The bathrooms right there," I point to a hallway and Daniel nods, "Can you grab my stuff and I'll meet you guys by the door?"

"Yeah, just be quick! Text me if you need anything." He squeezes my wrist and I nod, slipping away and down the stairs that lead tot he dark bathrooms. Once I'm done, I step out into the hall looking down at my phone when I slip on water pooled by the door. Or what I hope is water.

A hand juts out, catching me by the waist and tugging me forward so I'm no longer falling backwards. The firm hand is familiar, and when I glance up to thank the man who caught me I make eye contact with Logan. I resist the urge to make some rude comment and thank him softly instead.

"Are you gonna tell everyone about us dating?" He asks instead and I scoff.

"Are you gonna start a fight every time I see you?" I rebuke, and then shrug, "Alex and George asked. And if I said no, they could just look it up. I didn't say any apecifics, just the bulk."

Logan looks a little relieved at that, almost like he was nervous about their reactions if they knew every little thing that we'd done. Truth be told, puppy love was the best way to describe us back then. Stolen chaste kisses, giddy smiles when holding hands, little meaningful gifts, late night texts that led to sleepy smiles the next day. I was sure he'd had something more... mature after he'd broken it off. I had rationalized in my head that was why he broke it off. I'd never know the real reason, I wasn't going to ask.

"You..." Logan finally lets go of my waist, and in the low light I see his eyes sweep over me with a look I want to decipher. I've lost the key to his brain, and I know I won't be finding it any time soon.

"You look as beautiful as the day I left you, more so now... but," He laughs, shaking his head, "Sorry, I had too much to drink. I shouldn't."

"You shouldn't." I agree, but a tiny smile curls at my lips, "But thank you."

Logan looks at me for a long moment and I return the gaze, our eyes spelling out stories of his hands carding through my hair, laying on a blanket on the roof of his London apartment and listening to music in shared earbuds, us cheering on Oscar when he'd asked Lily out and celebrating with him after.

He was so much of my past, and somehow I found that I wished he could fit into my future.

"Can I ask one thing?" Logan says, the music pulsing above us louder now, making his voice get swallowed by the music. I step closer to hear him as I nod, throat dry as trepidation rolls across my skin, his lips part, and it takes a second for him to ask, "Can we not fight? I don't think I can ever see you look angry at me again, I've been replaying our argument outside the restaurant for days now.

"I don't wanna leave our past behind us and move on," He continues when I gape at him, "I loved you back then, maybe I still do now or maybe its the fact I'm so drunk the world is spinning, but you were such a big piece of my life. I've known you since we were kids, Dhanishka I can't let go of you now that I've got you back."

His heart is being held out for me, hands shaking as he stares at me, and I just stare back. Just friends, I tell myself. That's all we'll be.

"You know," I start, and I can feel its my heart and blood alcohol content leading the conversation and not my brain, "I do think I still love you--or maybe its the fact I'm just as drunk as you are, if not worse. You made my life, you made me who I am, from the stupid jokes to the little kisses behind our garages, or sneaking into eachother drivers rooms to nap..."

I swallow my pride, "I won't let go of you this time."

He grins and on wobbly legs he takes me into a hug, I let his arms wrap around my waist, hands warm against my skin as I throw my arms around his neck. The stairs squeak behind us, and we step back, but I don't see anyone come down. When I turn back to him, I find he's still looking, and as the music shakes the walls and rolls into my skin, I find one of my hands cupping his jaw. His breath cuts short, lips parting as his tongue darts out.

It's so dumb how easily I fall back in love with Logan Sargeant.

He dips down before I can think to pull back, slotting his lips against mine, and I welcome it. His grip on me tightens as he tugs me back in, bunching fabric under his fingernails as he gasps when I nip his lip.

"We shouldn't do this." He gasps between a kiss he drives, only to be cut off by me stepping closer to keep our lips dancing. He turns us, pressing my shoulders to a wall, cornering me underneath him, and I bite back a whine in the back of my throat.

"We shouldn't," I agree, and gasp when he moves closer, his hands sliding down to guide my hips towards him as his knee knocks mine apart. He steps one foot between mine, leaning into me, and I can't help the whine he forces out of my lips this time. And when I see his satisfied grin, I can't help the tiny bashful smile that pokes at my own lips.

"You're an asshole." I breathe against his lips, the club pulses above us, footsteps creaking on the stairs, but in that moment we dont feel the pull of the crowd singing and dancing. His hands grip my waist through the thin fabric of my black dress, pulling me in, and I feel everything. His chest hits mine with his sharp breath in, our eyes finding each other and holding a gaze I feel as bitter as the tequila in my stomach.

"I know," He pulls me in by wrapping his arm around my waist, hand finding my jaw and tugging me impossibly closer. Our lips meet again, all heat and fervor and my hands find the back of his head, knocking our teeth when I tug him in after he breaks the kiss.

22R stains his lips and I see it on his teeth when he grins, memories flicker through my eyes. He tastes like expensive whiskey and rum, a hint of shitty bottled beer taps my tonsils when I swallow. He tastes like everything I should run from and yet, I crave more.

"Dhanishka!" Charles calls for me somewhere in the club, voice loud against the music, and I step back. Reaching out to grab my wrist, Logan pulls me in once more, his thumb runs along my lower lip, fixing the smudged lipstick in the dark, dingy bathroom hall. I don't know what to say, I don't know if this is a moment where I'm even supposed to say anything.

"Danny!" Daniel shouts, coming to the hall of the bathroom and I push Logan back into the men's room and slam the door shut before he can say anything.

"There you are!" Charles calls and I wave, turning to them.

"Sorry," I giggle, the warmth of the kiss on my face as I feel the ghosts of Logan's hands on my skin, "I think I had a little too much."

"So did Max," Daniel snorts, flicking on his phone flashlight so I can properly see the stairs as I make my way over to where they stand halfway down them. I hear the men's room door creak and turn back to catch Logan's eye as Charles grabs my wrist and carts me upstairs.

We share a tiny grin between us, charged by drunken decisions, it's our moment. No one else sees. Or if they do, they don't say a word But Charles' grip on my wrist tightens, and I have an odd feeling we might not have been as alone as we thought we were in that hallway.

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talesofadragon · 11 months

Text

𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬

Synopsis: The world was not created in colors to be lived seldom in white, black, or even gray. This is what Y/N believed, and she resolutely refuses to be told otherwise. But when a night at the city’s most prestigious nightclub triggers a series of misfortunate events, Y/N’s world of hues is thrown off balance, colliding with a stranger whose eyes may be blue but his world is a handful of shades too dark.

Pairing: Mob Boss!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Mature scenes. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3.3K

Chapter 2 - Morally Gray | Varicolored Schemes Masterlist

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 god’s hell on earth.

Back in college, Y/N had to take a mandatory liberal arts elective. And up to this day, she still doesn’t understand why it’s called that when she didn’t elect to take it. Her professor at the time had the stupendous idea to focus on Renaissance drama as if this was the single most enthralling subject for a bunch of twenty-year-olds.

While her memory retained nothing besides the fact that most of William Shakespeare's characters were speculated to be queer and The Spanish Tragedy seldom had an interesting plotline, she now recalled one particular quote she didn't know she remembered: "Hell's empty and all the devils are here."

Oh, William. Something true did come out of his mouth.

"You look like someone murdered your cat," Yelena remarked as soon as Y/N stepped into her line of sight. The closer Y/N got to Yelena, the more prominent the scowl on the blonde’s face became.

Y/N glared at her best friend, throwing her bag harshly onto the coffee table, followed by her drenched notebook and coffee tumbler. Yelena's green eyes fixated on the chaotic mess, only momentarily straying when Y/N completed the picture with a heavy thud as she unceremoniously took a seat.

“Coffee,” she managed to let out. Yelena extended one of the cups to her side, but Y/N swatted it away in favor of the taller one. “You take the small one. I’m in urgent need of a pick-me-up.”

Yelena arched her brow, pointing at the cup inches away from Y/N’s lips. “It’s a Nitro Cold Brew.”

“Don’t care.”

“You’ve never ordered it before.”

Y/N shrugged, taking her first sip. “I’m open to trying new things.”

“Do you know how many shots of espresso are in there?” Yelena’s tone was borderline incredulous. Y/N didn’t care.

“Maybe I need the kick.”

“It’s espresso, Y/N,” Yelena grumbled. She glanced at the discarded pumpkin-spice latte she had grabbed for her best friend, her nose scrunching in disgust at the thought of having to drink it herself. “It’s not tequila.”

A loud huff reverberated across the back of the coffee shop they were sitting in. It was ludicrous of Y/N to think that her day would get any better with a cup of coffee when that horrendous drink made her want to empty her stomach.

Begrudgingly, she slid the drink back to Yelena and snatched her own. “I’ve had a terrible day.”

“You don’t say.”

“Scratch that. A terrible week. And a half!”

“What happened this time?” Yelena carefully asked.

Inadvertently, Y/N’s brain decided it was more than adequate to remind her about the tragedies of the past week and a half. At first, it started alright. Great even. She didn't drink much when she went to Purgatory, so she woke up the next day without a single tingle in her head. Her day went about alright, and she even told Yelena—albeit briefly, given the hangover her best friend sported—about her interaction with Steve.

That day was pretty uneventful, and so was the next one. But then, it was as though the floodgates of hell had opened, and Lucifer had prophesied her as the Chosen One, destined to endure the ultimate suffering.

Between a car splashing her with mud and having her get to her meeting looking and smelling like Ron Weasley’s great aunt Tessie, someone leaving a dent on her precious car, and a teenager in a Spider-Man mask trying to rob her only to throw her back her money and take her favorite purse... let’s just say she didn’t want to take a trek down that particular memory lane.

“An old woman stole my umbrella.”

And as if her being drenched from head to toe didn’t suffice, Yelena had to spit her espresso-loaded coffee directly on her juniper green shirt. Thank God she wasn’t wearing white this time.

“I’m sorry, птичка,” Yelena enunciated in between chuckles. “I thought you said an old woman, who is supposed to be much less nimble than yourself, stole your umbrella.”

“Laugh all you want, Yelena. But that woman was like a fucking torpedo when I told her I could only help her cross the street because the coffee shop was on the opposite side of wherever she had to go!”

“Savage,” Yelena commented. Suddenly, and in a very uncharacteristic manner, she turned quiet. As Y/N sipped on her coffee, her eyes flicked up to catch her best friend’s pensive expression. She was tapping her fingers against the plastic coffee cup with her gaze idle on the rain.

“What’s wrong?”

There was silence at first, followed by a loud exhale. Then, after ten more seconds, Yelena placed her elbows on the table, shifting her body forward. “I have to tell you something.”

“Oh no!” Y/N vigorously shook her head. “Don’t make my week even worse. Please.”

Yelena's eyes held a rare empathy, a sight that Y/N seldom witnessed. It was evident that the forthcoming words were about to unveil something dreadful. Y/N just knew it.

“Baron Zemo, the Sokovian investor I told you about, called me today. He wants to talk about the Red Room.”

Y/N blinked twice. The despair she felt evaporated, replaced by a much more joyful sensation. "That's amazing!" she exclaimed, fully aware of the immense effort her best friend had put into creating the Red Room—a local dance studio that nurtured young girls' passion for dance.

But Yelena didn't seem too enthusiastic about the prospect. Her mouth twitched, transitioning from a scowl to a thin line. "He wants us to meet in person. The day after tomorrow," she revealed. She grabbed her coffee cup and took a rather long sip of her coffee—as if it served as her liquid courage. "He's in Romania."

“Romania!” Y/N hollered. Screw joy. She was confused as hell. Because while she wasn’t the most prodigious student in the world, nor did she have a modicum of aptitude in Geography, she did know that Romania was thousands of miles away. “Why didn’t you let me know before? And do not even attempt to tell me you didn’t have these plans before, and you just had them now!”

Yelena winced. “You’re still hung up on that?”

“Yes!”

“I’m sorry, okay. My team has been in contact with him for months, and we’ve heard nothing. He called this morning and said he’d like to discuss the business along with expansion prospects. But he has an opening in three days or in seven months. That guy is an important investor. I couldn’t pass up on this opportunity.”

Well, when you put it that way, Y/N thought. As much as she wanted to yell and hurl her pumpkin-spice latte at the wall, she couldn’t help but be happy for Yelena. Yes, bad news were pelting her mercilessly, but that wasn’t the case for her best friend.

“At what time is your flight?” she asked in a steady voice.

Yelena smiled appreciatively. “Midnight.”

“I’ll drive you.” She rushed out of her seat, engulfing Yelena in a warm embrace. They held each other for a few seconds, but the touching moment soon melted when Y/N shifted to the right and felt something hit the floor with a thud. “Please tell me it’s not your drink.”

“It’s not.” Y/N’s shoulders eased. “It’s yours.”

A bad week and a half, she repeated in her head.

Luckily, Lucifer had decided to move on to the next unfortunate soul, leaving Y/N with two mundane days. Apart from her supervisor, Maria, grilling her about delivering the latest interior design schemes for the Odinson project, nothing exciting happened.

On the second day, Y/N drove Yelena to the airport and only departed after receiving a promise of a nice gift. She had dropped her off at nine in the evening and made it home around an hour later.

Having nothing better to do, she changed into her pajamas, made herself some popcorn, and decided to treat herself to an episode or two of FRIENDS. Her enthusiasm was unrelenting as she continued watching episode after episode, surpassing the four-episode mark.

Little did she know that her streak of luck was finite. Just as Yelena texted that the plane was taking off and the clock struck midnight, Y/N's fairy godmother played the cruelest joke on her—the power cut off.

“Oh, come on!” Y/N whined exasperatedly. She kicked her legs against her rug, throwing a tantrum like a child who’s been denied candy. After a steady string of curses, she fished out her phone and turned on her flashlight.

Since she was living in a house rather than an apartment, she peeked through her window to check if she was the only one facing a power outage. Most of the lights were off in the houses around them—it was midnight, after all. But the street lights were, in fact, on.

Once outside, she located the panel and opened it. The switches appeared to be in the “on” position, but she noticed that some of the wires looked worse for wear.

“Seriously, Lucifer. What do you want, you bastard? My soul in exchange for some peace!” Maybe that wasn't the wisest thing to say to the devil. Next thing she knew, the wires inside the electrical panel were cackling, and sparks began to fly. The sudden noise startled her, causing her to jump back in surprise. “That was a joke! Don’t they have those in hell?”

Capriciously, the energy within the panel flared up. Y/N decided it was best to stop talking.

Nervously, she started chewing on her nails. It was already midnight, with electricians available at this hour. In a situation like this, she would have called Yelena, but Yelena was already on a lengthy 8-hour flight to Sokovia. Seeking help from neighbors at this late hour wasn't a viable option either. And though she could consider sleeping in her car, the trembling in her fingers and her foggy breath reminded her of the biting cold.

Finding herself at a crossroads, Y/N pondered going inside and waiting for tomorrow to come. In the end, it’s not like her bad luck could possibly get any worse. But the crackling electricity was intensifying her anxiety and making it difficult to make a decision. Until she was suddenly reminded of something.

Don’t hesitate to give me a call. Even if it’s at four in the morning, the voice inside her head echoed.

Was it egotistic on her part to call Steve just because she needed help? Yes. Was it completely illogical to expect him to be awake at midnight? Uh-huh. Was she going to do it anyway? Absolutely. In fact, she was on the second ring now. And she just hoped Lucifer didn’t have any more tricks planned.

"Hello?" The first thing she noticed was the skepticism evident in the voice. The second realization was that it belonged to a woman.

Lucifer, Y/N called in her head. You can kill me now.

“Uhm, good evening.” Great. Now that the easy part was out of the way, she was left with one last dilemma. This woman could potentially be Steve's wife, and she's going to confuse Y/N for the mistress. Fun-fucking-tastic. “I’m sorry, but is this Steve Rogers’ number?”

“Who is asking?” the woman fired back.

Maybe it was time to end the call. “I’m Y/N. I, uh, kind of need some help.”

"I'll inform Mr. Rogers that you called," the woman replied. A flicker of hope ignited in Y/N's chest, only to be extinguished as quickly as a discarded cigarette crushed on the pavement when the woman abruptly hung up the phone, leaving her stunned and disheartened.

Y/N clutched her phone tightly against her chest. She stomped her foot on the ground, tears of frustration beginning to well up in her eyes. These two weeks had been horrible, and there wasn’t the slightest sign that it was going to get any better.

Y/N massaged her eyes with her thumb and index fingers, feeling the strain of the cold and the situation weighing upon her. As she started mentally searching for the correct placement of her flashlights and candles, her phone began to vibrate, her ringtone reverberating through the quiet and empty street.

Biting her cheek, Y/N fished it out. To her delight, it was Steve. She immediately pressed the accept button, anticipating to hear the woman from before. But a different voice greeted her instead.

“Steve?”

“Evening, Y/N.” His tone was placid and calm. Good, so Y/N hadn’t disturbed him with her unexpected call. “Everything alright?”

“I am so sorry to call you at this hour,” she hurriedly replied. Y/N barely took a breath before she continued, “I didn’t want to bother you so late, and I didn’t want to ask for a favor either. I know this makes me sound so selfish, but believe me, Steve. I had the most horrendous two weeks of my life, which is why I never texted you—”

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down, Y/N. I didn’t give you my number with any expectation that you might call or text me. It’s okay. And I don't think that you're selfish. You've obviously taken your time before calling me, so what's the issue? You're not in trouble, are you?"

He’s so sweet, Y/N thought. She hadn’t even realized she was smiling at his words until she had to clear her throat.

“Something’s wrong with the power at my house. My best friend is out of the country and most of my neighbors are sleeping. Normally, I wouldn’t worry about it and wait till tomorrow, but my electrical panel is acting out. So, I don’t know what to do.”

“You send me your location and wait for me to come,” he replied matter-of-factly with too much confidence and little to no hesitance.

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. The gentle heat in his words dispelled the coldness that had clung to her, leaving her feeling embraced by warmth.

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re no bother at all, Y/N. I’ll be waiting for your text.”

As soon as he hung up, Y/N immediately sent him her location. When she made sure he read it, she decided it was best to wait for him inside her house. It wasn’t like he was going to be there in the next twenty seconds. So, she sat by the window, grabbed a flashlight from her cupboard, and turned it on.

She felt giddy for some reason—excited to see him again. There was a certain kindness to him, she supposed. A comforting aura that told her that when he was there, there was nothing to fear. Maybe it was the fact that he towered over her, and she was sure his whole body would engulf her if she ever found herself in his arms. Or maybe it was his blue eyes that consumed her whole.

A car's headlights suddenly pierced through the darkness, grabbing Y/N's attention and pulling her out of her reverie. Startled, she glanced down at her phone, disbelief washing over her as she realized she had been lost in her thoughts for what felt like an eternity. To her surprise, only fifteen minutes had actually passed. A wave of relief and gratitude washed over her when the car parked by her house.

Y/N's heart raced with anticipation as she hastily bolted toward the door, unlocking it and eagerly stepping outside. Though her giddiness and excitement turned to confusion when she realized that Steve wasn't the one who emerged from the car.

“Miss Y/N?” a man called out. It was Sam, Steve’s best friend. When Y/N nodded, he continued, “I’m Sam Wilson, and this is Bucky Barnes. Steve sent us.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” She shook their hands. “Thank you so much for coming. I'm sorry to have bothered you this late.”

“Where’s the electrical panel?” Bucky cut to the chase. Now that he was close, he looked a bit intimidating. He stood at the same height as Steve, though slightly less physically built.

Y/N led him to the panel, taking a step back to allow him to work. He carefully examined it while she fidgeted with her hands, gazing at the car they had arrived in.

“We were in the area,” Sam’s voice cut through. Y/N’s attention turned to him. She looked like a deer in the headlights. “Steve lives upstate. He figured it was faster to send us.”

“And I really appreciate it,” Y/N responded.

After Sam joined Bucky in examining the panel, silence filled the air for a while. The sound of electricity hissing intermittently persisted until both men finally stepped back.

“The bad news is, some of the fuses seem to have melted and need replacement,” Bucky explained. “The good news is, it shouldn’t be too difficult to fix. But, it’ll have to wait until morning.”

Y/N’s shoulders slumped slightly as she absorbed the information. What has she ever done to be rewarded with two terrible weeks?

“Alright. Thanks for the help. I’m sorry to have disturbed you at this hour,” she said, sounding apologetic.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Hold on a minute,” he interjected, a touch of worry in his voice. “You can’t just go back to your house like this.”

Confused, Y/N asked, “Why not?”

“Because it’s freezing outside, and you’re gonna get hypothermia without any heat in your house. Not to mention it’s not safe.”

Y/N chuckled lightly, trying to brush off the concern. “I have quilts, you know,” she reassured him. “And a lock.”

Sam shook his head. He turned to Bucky, who licked his mouth before he spoke. “If you do that, doll. I have a feeling our boss will not be too happy about it,” Bucky admitted. “Let me call him.”

Bucky stepped away from the group, pulling out his phone to make the call. As he conversed with Steve, Y/N caught fragments of their conversation before the phone was handed to her.

“You’re not seriously going to sleep in your house?” Steve’s voice sounded both worried and protective.

Y/N responded with a soft hum, trying to downplay the situation. “I have quilts and a lock.”

“And I have a perfectly fine apartment nearby that I don’t use. It’s not too far from your place.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her eyes focused on the ground. She then looked up, biting her lower lip. “Steve,” she started, her voice wavering slightly.

He interrupted her gently, understanding the weight of the situation. “Look, I know we’ve barely met. But I can’t just let you sleep in your house under such circumstances. Especially after Bucky and Sam couldn’t help much. I don’t use that apartment, and if it makes you feel safer, you can text your friends your Live Location and take your own car there. I just want to help.”

Y/N was taken aback by Steve’s unwavering concern and kindness. She realized that his offer came from a genuine place of wanting to help, even though they were relative strangers. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded appreciatively.

“Alright, Steve. Thank you,” she finally responded, her voice filled with gratitude. “I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“Glad to hear it, Y/N. Could you pass Bucky the phone, please? We’ll make sure you’re safe and warm tonight.”

Y/N handed Bucky the phone. She quickly explained to Sam that she would be retrieving a few belongings from her apartment. On her way inside, Y/N shot Yelena a text, including her live location and a brief explanation. Just in case.

Taking a moment to gather her essentials, including pepper spray for added security, Y/N made sure to remember to take Steve's jacket, the one he’d offered her two weeks ago. With her belongings in hand, she set off on her way. If only she knew what she had gotten herself into.

Series Taglist: @crazyunsexycool @patzammit @wintasssoldier @themrsrogers

Steve seems like a knight in shining armor. Does he not?

: ̗̀➛ Read Chapter 3 | Star Command Blue

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x female reader #captain america x reader #avengers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel mcu #avengers #steve rogers x y/n #mafia steve rogers #mob steve rogers #mob!steve rogers x reader #mafia!steve rogers x reader

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sunnynwanda · 1 year

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Blind or blinded: Part 2

Part 1

It was not a date. Not in the conventional sense, at least. Rather, a business meeting.

They decided to get a coffee to avoid suspicions. After all, two adults sitting in a book cafè without any coffee or books would look weird, right? So, while Hero ordered their coffees, Villain browsed the bookshelves, picking a random book for them to have on the table.

After their disaster of a blind date, they spent two hours each lecturing Anita on the horrible mistake she had made by setting them up. She apologised, of course. Even though the knowing smile never left her eyes.

They met two days later to discuss the results of the ‘educational work’ only to conclude that their friend didn’t seem sorry, not in the slightest. Both knew they had to retaliate in some way as punishment. This led to the third meeting, in which they designed a plan and the fourth, in which they might have celebrated the successful implementation of said plan.

The fifth time they had come across each other was more of an accident. One that ended up with them on a rooftop, talking over politics and agreeing that the mayor needed some jail time.

Villain stops for a second, hand mid-air in front of the shelf. This was the sixth time they were meeting outside of the usual Hero vs Villain dynamic, and they hadn’t killed each other. In fact, they were able to communicate quite well.

They notice Hero is back at their table and walk over, a heavy folio in hand. The smell of cinnamon and caramel hits their nostrils, earning a satisfied yet puzzled smirk. "You know my order?"

Why can't you just smile at me? Hero wants to ask. Instead, they run their fingertips over the cover of the book handed to them. “You know my favourite book?"

Villain shakes their head, accepting the rules of the game. Uncomfortable questions with no answers, it is, then. Will you go out with me for real?

"What did you want to discuss?" They opt for the safer option, taking a sip of their drink. The sweet taste warms their tongue. Hero mirrors the action, drinking their double espresso, no sugar. Villain thinks only absolute lunatics can drink something so sharp and bitter with such a sweet fucking smile. Quite fitting.

"Our plans for the next two weeks," Hero says, meeting their nemesis' eye. "Or rather, the absence of those." They elaborate. Villain has to stop the cup from meeting their lips to avoid choking.

Oh, right. It’s December 20th.

"I remember. You and Anita demand a Christmas vacation," Villain replies, attempting to sound disdained and failing miserably. "What am I supposed to do, though?”

Die of boredom? Another uncomfortable question Villain’d prefer unanswered and unuttered.

"That's what I wanted to talk about, actually," Hero finds themselves unable to look at Villain, shifting slightly to face the window. For some reason, they were even more nervous now, after five full dates that did not result in murder. “Do you have any plans for our impromptu holidays?”

“Not... exactly,” Villain admits, reaching for their backpack and pulling out a book of their own. Hero offers them the most charming irritating cheerful smile, so they hurry to add before their enemy has a chance to mock them. “I’ll just spend some time on my hobby.”

“Your hobby?” Hero struggles to contain their excitement, the stupid butterflies tickling their lungs. Villain, however, seems oblivious to the glint in their eyes, going for an offended tone again.

“Yes,” they retort, indignation filling their voice. When they agreed to go on a blind date with Anita’s second best friend, they might have suspected something. They might have chosen to act clueless about her scheme. They might have even accepted the possibility of seeing something more in their archnemesis. That was one of the two things Villain would never admit to. “What’s so surprising?”

“I’m your hobby,” Hero claims, absolutely unashamed as they stare into Villain’s increasingly pink face. “Are you gonna spend some time on me?”

“That’s not what I...” their explanation is interrupted, but Villain fails to grasp the meaning behind Hero’s short comment. Their mind wanders towards their actual hobby, which does, in fact, involve Hero. For quite sometime now. And that is the second thing they weren’t willing to admit.

“’Cause I don’t mind,” Hero claims, leaning back in their seat and emptying their cup in one gulp. The nerves are getting the best of them while the gorgeous nincompoop sits there, looking out of this world under the cold winter light.

“...meant,” it takes Villain several moments of silence and one teasing grin from Hero to register what their opponent has said. “Wait, what?”

Their brain positively short-circuits as they stare into negative space. Hero ignores that, reaching for their book to hide their trembling fingers. That blind date was the happiest accident that was granted to them by the universe, and Hero would be damned if they let the opportunity slip out of their hands.

“You know what?” Villain starts, and Hero is about to apologise when Villain strikes them with the most ravishing smile imaginable, rendering them speechless. “I might just do that.”

With that, Villain leans back against their chair, opening the sketchbook on their lap. They watch Hero’s flustered expression turn ecstatic in a matter of mere seconds as the wheels spin harshly in their head. Now, this is a look they’ve never captured before.

Their pencil barely manages to touch the clean page when Hero breaths out, half-choked. “God, I’m in love with you.”

Villain’s head snaps up as they drop the sketchbook, not noticing the pencil that rolls off their lap when they lean over the table, grabbing Hero’s chin and kissing them without warning.

Anita has to bite down her palm to suppress a victorious yelp as she walks away from the cafe with a jump in her steps. “I think it’s safe to say you both owe me one. Oblivious Idiots.”

Part 1

Masterlist

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merakiui · 1 year

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Hii!! I love your Lunar Love Hotel event so much! I didn't see any mention of you closing the requests yet, so I hope they're still open! (Otherwise, feel free to delete this.)

I would really like Red Bean Mochi and Blueberry Muffins for Rollo? I adore the idea of him leaving one of those with just the most creepy undertones, and completely anonymous, because it's the only way he can sate these vile feelings for a little while :') But feel free to do whatever you want with the concept!

yandere!rollo flamm x (gender neutral) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors, stalking, obsession, slightly morbid/dark thoughts note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

i. the diary of rollo flamm, in which you will find various love letter drafts and daily musings eloquently scrawled within perfumed pages.

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『1』

For the hour I remained in the café, you smiled a total of thirty-seven times, one smile per customer and one or two depending on coworkers you’re well-acquainted with. I would have counted your every laugh, every blink of your perfect, pretty eyes, but then that would be like counting your every breath, every heartbeat, and it would be impossible to come up with an accurate sum when you’re always so...alive. One breath could be two taken at once, and a single blink could simply be my own eyes shutting and opening before yours do. Therefore, it is impossible to truly quantify your every movement without looking completely, utterly, foolishly enthralled.

I suppose this feeling is what you might call love. For all of the romances I have read and all of the romances I have witnessed in this city, whether intentional or not, the love I feel is not bitter or sweet like some might describe. It simply exists; it lights a crackling flame within the concrete hearth that is my heart. I should liken it to warmth—to linens fresh from the dryer or spiced mulberries or bright, dancing fire. It is comforting like the winter coat I don in order to combat this deathly chill.

I have never felt this way before.

Today, when I ducked inside to avoid the frigid snowfall outside, the bell above the door announced my arrival, and you were there at the register as always. You smiled at me, once when our eyes met and a second time when you had asked me how I was doing and I had said, “Cold.” You laughed, but I am not a comedian. I will not pretend to be one for your sake, but I appreciate your hospitality all the same. Your optimism, even if manufactured for the customer, is inviting.

Perhaps you reserve such reactions for me?

I visit this café every Sunday at exactly 10:30 in the morning. It’s important to be methodical in every aspect of one’s life. Schedules are necessary; they create order and peace. I have visited so often that you know me as a regular. You know my name and how it’s spelled. You write your L’s slanted and your O’s pumpkin-shaped (most likely because Halloween is approaching and it’s your attempt at being festive, even if the O’s look more like obscure shapes than pumpkins). You look at me when I step over the threshold into a room of coffee-scented comforts and you say, “A warm croissant and a cup of classic espresso with milk and foam, right?” And I nod every time.

You know me well. I will know you even better.

Your name tag reads (Name). It’s a lovely name. I could write lines of wonderful words describing the way it feels when I speak it to myself in front of a mirror or when I whisper it late at night as though it’s a secret. But I will not, as I am not usually very poetic, and that is a task suited for a poet, which I am not.

Surely you have a surname. Most often do. However, in the event that you are lacking one or are not too fond of the one you currently possess, you are welcome to take mine.

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『2』

My first attempt at a love letter is as follows:

You are the warmth that melts icecaps and reshapes glaciers. No, not quite. Am I trying to compare you to the catastrophe that is global warming? Think romantically, Rollo. This is the City of Flowers, after all. Surely there are better phrasings...

You are melodious like the Bell of Salvation like the sweetest birdsong. You are warm and fluffy like a croissant. You are love incarnate. If I could pry you open rib by rib and live within your beating, blood-filled heart, we would be together forever. Bound eternally by flesh and blood.

These lines feel rather crude. How do romance authors capture the complexities of love so easily? Beautiful words come from the deepest pits of the heart, or so they all claim. The words I wish to tell you come from my very soul, yet I cannot seem to transcribe them here. Should I be direct? But then blunt honesty is not nearly as romantic as flowery prose.

Dearest, sweetest you,

For every smile you grant me, I live another year in good health. For every syllable of laughter and delight I hear, I feel inclined to give you the world, whether in ruins or not, if only to witness your happiness.

I suppose a start is a start, even if it’s a depressingly abysmal one. I hope this week passes fast. I’d like to see you as soon as possible for some much-needed inspiration and, of course, so I can watch you.

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『3』

I arrived at the usual time, but you were too absorbed in conversation with a customer to notice me. I consider myself a fair, level-headed man, and for that reason envy is not usually an issue. But the casual manner with which that fool wrote their number on your arm, tattooing your perfect, pretty skin in sinful ink... You smiled and laughed with them, promising to call them after your shift, your perfect, pretty eyes ablaze with excitement or wonder or awe or... I’d much sooner poke them out with sewing needles than witness you fawn over numbers. I watched all of it from my place in line, gripping my handkerchief in such a tight fist my knuckles blanched.

You should know jealousy makes a man like myself monstrous.

It’s important that I keep this diary to detail all of my innermost desires so that I won’t feel compelled to act on them. But in that moment I had wished that, if you were to receive a phone number, it would have been given to you on a piece of paper. Paper is easy to shred and discard and burn. It is not an easy feat to sever an arm from the elbow.

But I can be patient, as I often am, so that you will come to love me in the same way I love you.

I write this as I watch you flitting about behind the counter to prepare my espresso. I wonder if you ever catch a break. This café is quiet on Sunday mornings, but I’m certain it’s much more lively during the week. I wonder if it’s ever empty and you sit in here on your phone, waiting for something to happen. I wonder what positions you might like to try on the counter, the tables, the booth I’m sitting in...

I had to shut this diary momentarily when you came to deliver my order. Sometimes I wonder if you would share my sentiments on magic. I almost asked when we talked briefly. Your perfect, pretty fingers were drumming along the circular, silver tray as you looked at me, smiling your perfect, pretty smile. I asked if you were studying anything. You told me you were taking a gap year, and then you had asked if I was a journalist because, in your words, I am “always scribbling away with your nose in that book.”

I suppose I am, in some manner of the word. I smiled at you, sipping from my espresso, and said, “The subject I’m studying is very special. One-of-a-kind, you might say.” A poor excuse at flirting.

I am not a flirt, and I would never pretend to be one. I am genuine in all aspects of my life, especially when it comes to love. You must know this.

You were going to ask me to elaborate, but the bell at the door announced the arrival of more customers and you drifted away from me with an apologetic smile. I caught sight of the number scrawled on your arm as you retreated. Magic could numb you well enough while I bring the blade down, so fast it will be but a mere flash. I should not cut your arm. I should not hurt you.

I should not love you to this extent.

Like the Crimson Lotus, you are a vibrant, fiery temptation. I fear the contents of my chest have already been reduced to ash.

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『4』

The Crimson Lotus requires adequate nutrients like any other flower, though such nutrients are distinctive to this species. Unlike normal blossoms, the Crimson Lotus is parasitic in nature, sustaining itself with magic. You might liken them to the average pest, whether human or insect, or a fire that will only grow when fed more fuel. I could compose an entire novel on cultivation techniques and facts. I could also set these flowers loose and watch them wreak havoc on the city. The students from Night Raven College will be visiting soon, with a certain Malleus Draconia being among them. I wonder if they’re fond of parting gifts, by which I mean parting with their oh-so-treasured magic.

I hope you aren’t a mage. If you are, I’m afraid I might have to hurt you.

Rambling aside, I shall try my hand at a love letter once again.

Dearest, sweetest you,

You are the joyous scents and sounds of lively city streets, of bakers boasting fresh, fluffy bread, of florists flaunting floral arrangements in all colors and species, of townsfolk turning the city upside-down come festival time. You are the golden glow that befalls the land when the sun rises, and you are the silvery shimmer that swathes all who sleep under the moon’s watchful illumination.

You are the air I breathe. The air I need. You are the bell who should rightfully reside within the tower I will construct. The tower of my heart? The tower of true love? If I could climb inside your skin, I might come to know the real you.

Perhaps I should pick up another romance soon. I know nothing of poetry or love letters.

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『5』

I followed you home today.

I am a fair, level-headed man, and so for that reason I know not to cross the law. But can you possibly expect a man of my nature to remain lawful when he is in love? They say love should surpass all. Does this not include the law? Does this not include morals and standards? If love is so mighty and marvelous, then why might some label my actions wrong and wicked? Is this not just a form of protection?

I do not intend to scare you. I do not intend to make you feel unsafe.

I followed you home today, and you did not notice. How could you when you had headphones on?

You live in an apartment on the third floor. If I counted correctly, you should be seventh or eighth from the entrance to the stairs, tucked neatly away near the end of the hall. Perhaps I should make a copy of your key so that I can immerse myself in your privacy.

I am a fair, level-headed man, and so I will not steal anything. But if you do find something of yours has gone missing—whether a personal item or what you think is insignificant trash—I have merely borrowed it for my own use. I cannot promise whether I might return this borrowed item, but I can at least promise that it will be put to good use.

I could construct a doll in your likeness. I would need clothing, perhaps hair, skin, teeth, a tongue to entwine around mine... That’s morbid, isn’t it? Fitting for Halloween, but grotesquely harrowing. A silent doll who resembles its human counterpart in all aspects but the vibrancy of life... I’d much rather have the real you than a patchwork doppelgänger. If I tried my hand at fashioning you from needle and thread, I would just create a corpse. There are artists who only paint pain and misery, hence why we now look at certain paintings and consider them cursed. I am not a poet or a doll-maker, so I will not write poetry and I will not stitch dolls together.

I am not a villain.

The urge to knock on your door had seized me then, when I stood in the hall in front of what I assumed was your door, my fist raised in preparation to knock thrice. Superstition says that if you receive three knocks on your door or windowpane, someone you love will have been taken away by Death within three days, weeks, months. I suppose Death does not need to conform to time after which the three knocks have been granted. Well, I believe in no such things, and I am not Death.

But you’ll certainly think I am when you can’t see me.

𝓔𝓷𝓽𝓻𝔂 『6』

Before I welcome the Night Raven College students, I visited you. You weren’t home. It was Sunday. 10:30 in the morning. I slid a letter under your door. Sugared thoughts are sealed inside with red wax. I’m not afraid to admit here that I am not entirely confident in my prose, hence why I’ve left it anonymous. I’ve penned the exact letter here for my sake, should I ever need to flip through these pages again to remind myself of the frustrations I conquered just to craft a single love letter.

Dearest, sweetest you,

I have never felt this way before. When I spy you through the window, I feel as if the stars have aligned to fix the very fate which has led me to you. Your smile is invigorating; your laughter is an enchanting melody. Perhaps you reserve such reactions for me? In that regard, you know me well. I will know you better.

I am not a flirt, and I would never pretend to be one. I am genuine in all aspects of my life, especially when it comes to love. You must know this. Unfortunately, it’s saddening to see how easily you fall prey to simple pleasantries. Infuriating, almost. You should know jealousy makes a man like myself monstrous. But I can be patient, as I often am, so that you will come to love me in the same way I love you.

Like the Crimson Lotus, you are a vibrant, fiery temptation. I fear the contents of my chest have already been reduced to ash. I should not love you to this extent.

I hope you aren’t a mage. If you are, I’m afraid I might have to hurt you, if only to show you right from wrong. I followed you home today, and you did not notice. How could you when you had headphones on? I do not intend to scare you. I do not intend to make you feel unsafe. I only wish to love from afar for now.

I am not a villain, but you’ll certainly think I am when you can’t see me.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere rollo flamm #yandere rollo flamm x reader #yandere rollo #yandere rollo x reader #lunar love hotel 2023

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angryschnauzer · 1 year

Text

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 4

Summary: Finding a new life in a new town, you stumble upon a Honey farmer at the town market. You both have pasts that have shaped the way you now live your lives, but can you find a way of putting them behind you to find happiness?

Pairing: ‘Lucas’ Syverson x Female Reader

Fandom: Henry Cavill, Sandcastle (Movie).

Ongoing Genre: Fluff, Angst, and Smut

Story Warnings: Slight Angst, Talk of a car accident in the past, Anxious Sy, Mild Embarrassment, First Date Nerves, Kissing

Wordcount: 2689

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3,

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

As Sweet As Honey - Chapter 4

The farmers market was busy, the sunshine and good weather always bringing people out to enjoy what the town had to offer, and as the summer approached the amount of tourists increased too. From the moment Sy had set up there had been a steady stream of customers stopping by his stand, but at every given chance he would be looking around, trying to find one particular face in the crowds.

It was one such moment when he was looking away did someone clear their throat, to which he was a little startled by as he turned and spotted an older man in his late 60s standing beside his stand holding a jar of honey;

“You make this?”

He spoke with a strong Italian accent.

“I do Sir. Would you like to try it?”

“And the bees, they are local, yes?”

“Yes Sir, the hives are on the meadow as you head West out of town”

“Ah, so not far, hmmn”

The older man held the jar up to the light, watching as the amber liquid glinted in the sunlight. Sy bit back his smile, he knew exactly who this was, although had never met in person before as he turned back to him;

“Is it good to cook with?”

“It would be perfect for the dip to go with the churros. Though a Jalapeno would work better with this rather than the red chilli’s you already use”

There was a moment of quiet, before the older man finally smiled and held his hand out;

“Antonio Cosentino”

“Lucas Syverson”

“Good to meet you Mr Syverson. I saw you in my restaurant last night with your lovely lady”

Sy smiled at the mention of you;

“Yeah, she’s great. She actually suggested i approach you about the honey”

“She’s got a good head on her shoulders” he leant forwards; “And a good pair of burrata… if i was 30 years younger you’d have some competition i tell you that”

He held his hands out in front of him in a cupping motion and Sy did his best not to laugh too much at the old Italian commenting about your breasts and likening them to the shape of balls of fresh mozzarella cheese. Instead Sy diplomatically changed the conversation;

“I tell you what Mr Cosentino, take that jar - it's on me - put it on the menu tonight and i’ll swing by on Monday for an espresso, you can tell me what you think”

Antonio held out his hand and gave Sy’s a firm shake;

“You have a deal… and you said espresso without the ‘x’ so you already have gone up in my book”

“I spent a couple of months in Italy on special assignment with the Pozzuolo del Friuli after my last tour of Iraq, you only say it with an x once when you are with them”

“Bosnia?”

Sy shook his head;

“Before my time with them. Assisted with peacekeeping in Lebanon”

Antonio nodded solemnly;

“You’re a good man” he held up the honey; “Grazie. 11 o’clock on Monday?”

“Sounds good”

As Sy watched the old man walk away he smiled but it was bittersweet. His time with the Italian’s had been his last in the forces, and the sights he’d seen in Lebanon had made him question a lot of things, but had been a deciding factor in leaving the Army. He took a deep breath and looked around the market, taking in the bustling crowds and happy faces. He glanced up to the higher walkway that surrounded the market place and saw a sight that lifted his mood immediately; you.

You were surprised at how busy downtown was, but then it was also approaching lunchtime so there was the lunch crowd out as well as locals doing their shopping and people just enjoying the sunshine.

After sleeping in late you did some chores before Tamara swung by to drop the books off she’d borrowed and had offered you a ride into town, but you’d declined as a walk in the sunshine was just what the doctor ordered after the indulgences of dinner the previous evening.

Once you’d stopped at the post office and mailed the original manuscripts for the SATS test papers you’d finalised, you just had a couple more errands to run before you made a trip to the market. It wasn’t that you were nervous about seeing Sy, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on much once you’d seen him, so you got as much done as possible before that eventuality. As you came out of the post office you recognised a tall burly figure crossing the road towards you, a very familiar dog on the end of a leash trotting alongside him. For a moment you stood and watched as Sheriff Marshall and Akia approached, noting how the dog was as obedient for him as she was for Sy. He passed you without noticing, but Akia started to drop behind, turning to look back at you;

“C’mon girl” Walter tugged gently on the leash but instead the dog just planted her butt on the sidewalk, looking back at you. The hulking Sheriff finally turned and looked up to where Akia was staring, before a moment of recognition. Looking back down at the dog he spoke;

“Do you want to go and say hello?”

Akia stood and wagged her tail, to which he let her trot along the sidewalk to where you were standing;

“Hi”

“Morning Sheriff”

He held his hand out to you;

“I guess as my cousin is dating you, you could call me Walter”

Shaking his hand you smiled at the normally grumpy Sheriff, before Akia let out a quiet ‘wuff’ and you moved your attention to her;

“Have you been a good girl?”

The big dog got all wriggly like a puppy before laying on the pavement and showing you her belly, which you obliged and gave her a quick tummy rub;

“You big softie” standing you smiled at Walter; “So Sy said we’re dating?”

Walter nodded, before gesturing to say he was going to continue walking which you nodded in agreement too, Akia moving and falling into step between you;

“He called me after your date last night, he was so happy” he paused; “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but it’s been a while since he let anyone this close, even longer since he admitted his feelings to me”

You nodded;

“I really like him too, I just want to take things slow at first, you know?”

Walter nodded, as he did in fact know. You’d made a point when you first moved to the town to make an appointment with him and give him details of the restraining order, and he had quietly taken in the information you’d given him. He’d assured you it was a safe, tight knit community, and would make sure your new identity was kept private.

As you turned the corner and walked alongside the railings you could look over the market, spotting Sy’s yellow sunshade immediately. He gave you a wave and smiled before turning his attention back to his customer, Walter clearing his throat;

“Just… be honest with him. I know you don’t have to tell him anything, but…”

“I know. He’s my first relationship since. When the time comes i’ll tell him”

“Thank you” Walter said quietly.

As you approached Sy’s stand Akia picked up his scent and started to strain on the leash, excited to see him again. Once it was safe and there was a clear light of sight, Walter let the leash drop and you watched as the big dog ran to the stand and shuffled under the table, sitting on her haunches as she almost vibrated with excitement whilst Sy handed the customer their change. He turned to her and smiled;

“Have you been a good girl?”

“Wuff”

“Did you chase racoons at Uncle Walters house?”

The response was a whine, to which Akia was greeted with an enthusiastic face rub as Sy called her a good girl and gave her rump a couple of friendly pats with the palm of his hand. Your mind focused on that, how he was gentle but firm, and you wondered how the palm of his hand would feel doing that against your own ass.

“If you ask him nicely he will”

You hadn’t even realised Walter had moved in close until he’d whispered in your ear, but you felt the heat rise to your face immediately;

“I didn’t say that out loud did I?”

“You didn’t need to. I could see your mind working and where your gaze was trained”

You smiled;

“You should be a detective”

“I was. Much prefer this” he grinned at you, before turning to Sy and checking in with him briefly until a local came up to him and started to draw him into a conversation about nuisance speeders on the North road out of town.

“There’s my girl”

Turning to Sy, you were a little taken back by his public show of affection, but didn’t shy away from it. Resting your hands on his chest you smiled as he pressed his lips to yours. His kiss was warm and welcoming, and held just a little promise of more had it not for standing somewhere incredibly public.

“Come sit in the shade with me”

He took your hand and led you around the table, pulling out a second camping chair for you. He delved into a cooler and pulled out three bottles of water and a metal bowl, filling the bowl for Akia before handing you a bottle.

“Thanks. How’s it gone this morning?”

“Busy. Lots of weekenders from out of state”

Just at that moment more customers turned up, and you watched from the shade as Sy worked his sales magic, their purchase list soon growing;

“... and they’re the bath fizzers, simply run a hot bath and pop one in. The honey helps moisturise and the locally grown lavender helps relaxation”

The tourist nodded;

“Is the lavender local? I don’t like that artificially scented stuff”

“Grown right here in town by the lovely lady in the shade”

You looked up and waved, and that seemed to reassure all of the customer’s thoughts on the product, who happily nodded and asked for three. Once they’d left Sy turned to you and pulled a small paper bag out from one of the storage totes he carried stock in to the market;

“For you”

Taking the bag from him you peered inside and saw there were a pair of bath fizzers in the bag;

“Oh, thanks”

You realised your reply hadn’t been as enthusiastic as he was probably expecting, looking up just as a customer arrived but you didn’t fail to miss the slight look of disappointment on his face. For a moment you weren’t sure what to do or say, but as the customer left you stood next to Sy;

“Thank you, really. They smell amazing… would they work in a shower?” Sy blinked a couple of times, trying to process his emotions before you continued; “I don’t have a bath”

“Oh. OH”

“I’m not disappointed Sy, i really do like them, they smell absolutely amazing”

He let out a deep breath;

“But without a bath… yeah, I get that. Sorry, I didn't mean to get pouty” he smiled at you.

“Don’t apologise, please. I should have explained”

For a moment you both just stood there, the bag of bath fizzers awkwardly between you before you set it down;

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat a horse”

You laughed;

“How about some tacos instead? I passed a stand as we walked in”

“That sounds good”

Ten minutes later you’d returned from the authentic Mexican food truck with two take out dishes of their best tacos, sliding in behind the table at Sy’s stand and handing him a box. As the stand was quiet you both took a seat, eating in silence before you took a rest between your 2nd and 3rd tacos.

“Everything alright?”

You nodded and rubbed your stomach;

“They’re really filling, just taking a break”

Although he didn’t have to, Sy sat back and paused his eating;

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure”

“You can tell me to fuck off if it’s personal, but I kinda thought all girls loved baths? Like if you remodel a chick’s place the first thing they do is install a fuck off enormous tub”

“Well, it is personal but i’ll tell you the short version; I was in a car accident a few years ago where the car ended up going into a river in the middle of winter. I now can’t cope with being surrounded by cold water… and baths get cold no matter how hot you run them”

Sy nodded thoughtfully;

“I understand” he paused; “If there was a way to guarantee the water stays hot no matter how long you were in the water, would you consider it?”

It was your turn to pause and consider what he was saying;

“Possibly. I never really looked into it. I just know i didn’t want to be surrounded by cold water and i was super happy with my walk in steam shower”

“Now that does sound nice” Sy agreed

In a moment of bravado you lowered your voice;

“I look forward to showing you how nice”

It was Sy’s turn to blush, the moment interrupted by a customer. You settled back in your chair when a furry snout rested itself on your lap, the drool from Akia’s mouth soon seeping through your dress;

“Yes i got something for you too Akia” before pulling a small plastic bag from the corner of your takeout box; “One burnt end of the brisket”

As the dog happily crunched away on the small morsel you watched Sy, taking in how his ass looked in jeans, how the fabric clung to his thighs. No flannel shirt in the heat, instead he wore a red t-shirt, the fabric taut across his wide shoulders.Your mind wandered to how he’d pushed one of those meaty thighs between your own as you’d kissed on your porch, and the thought of him doing that to you without any clothing barriers between you, in your shower no less, was something you were more than happy to let your mind drift off to.

As the afternoon grew late and the flow of customers waned, Sy sat next to you again and looked around;

“Thanks for the company today, sometimes these things can get a bit boring without anyone to talk to apart from Akia”

“It was fun. You’re a good salesman, I think you could convince anyone to buy your stuff”

Sy laughed;

“I’m just a good negotiator”

Soon it was time to pack up, the market coming to an end. You happily stayed to help as it wasn’t like you had anything other than a book waiting for you at home, and babysitting Akia as Sy went to get his truck. Once everything had been loaded he opened the passenger door and watched as you easily climbed up in your sneakers and shorts.

When he reached your place he turned to you;

“So, still on for dinner at my place tomorrow night?”

“Sounds good. What time do you want me?”

He looked you up and down, a smug grin on his face;

“Oh baby, i want you all the time”

“Sy!” you laughed

“Come over about four, or i can pick you up”

“It’s fine, i’ll walk across the meadow”

You leaned across the centre console of the truck and let him draw you into a deep kiss, which neither of you were in a hurry to finish until a soft whine came from the back seat and you could hear Akia’s stomach grumble;

“I’ll let you go home and feed Akia”

Sy pulled you back for one final kiss before letting you go. He watched as you crossed your yard and let yourself in, making sure you were safe inside before he left. Old protective habits die hard.

________________

Authors Note:

When the readers breasts are referred to as similar to burrata, it is referring to the size and shape, not the colour. I keep my reader race neutral so anyone can enjoy reading the story.

Chapter 5 >>>

#as sweet as honey #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson #sy x reader #henry cavill

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eleganzadellarosa · 4 months

Text

Coffee Kisses ☕️ | Part 2

pairing: barista!kyungsoo x poc reader (ft. Baekhuyn)

genre: fluff, smut, angst, strangers to lovers

warnings: SEXUAL CONTENT MDNI (unprotected sex (wrap it up pretty please), pet names (baby, princess, love)), fast paced plot

word count: 3.3k+

A/N: Part 2 of Coffee Kisses! This is told from the reader's POV. The end of the story is written in 3rd person to help everything flow better. Enjoy and thanks for reading :)

taglist: @sleepingbeautydo

Part 1 can be found here

The first time I stepped foot in the cafe, I didn't expect to leave with a newfound obsession for coffee or a crush. It was almost impossible to leave without one and I'm talking about the latter. It was impressive, how much care he seemed to put into every order, determined to bring perfection to each cup.

I lied to myself saying I came back everyday just for the deep flavors of the espressos when in reality it was always for him. Maybe not the first time, but definitely every time after that. That's just how addicted I was. He was my cup of espresso. Something I needed every day to feel awake and alive.

The eye contact snatched my breath away, made my heart skip a beat. I thought maybe time had stopped every time he looked my way. And what was that look on his face? He was smiling each day he saw me walk through that door, seeing a familiar face to bring a sense of comfort.

Then like a flash of lightning, I had to go away without even having the chance to tell him. I hated to do it but I had good reason to, I just wish I could have kept in touch. I tried, I really did but I wasn't so lucky to be given the chance to have him in my life, even if just as friends.

I counted down the days to my return, planning out how it would go in my head. I wanted to live my fairytale moment, bursting through the doors for him to run up and pull me into a kiss. That wasn't going to happen, I didn't even know him like that but a girl can dream right? Would he want to see me after so long? Would I have the opportunity to tell him what happened? He was such a nice person and I hope he didn’t think I took that for granted.

I sat on the bus, window seat as always, heart racing the closer it drove to its destination. The same bus stop I would get off on every day just to see him standing behind the counter, doing what he does best.

The ride seemed so long or maybe it was my rapid heart beat slowing down the time. I was starting to doubt coming here, all due to my budding anxiety, or maybe it was guilt. I did want to tell him, but that day was so busy and I couldn't wait much longer before I had to go home and get ready for my flight. Thinking back on it now, perhaps I should've done the cliche thing and wrote my number on a napkin and left it at my table with a cute "call me ;)" but I'm way too shy to do that.

I recognized where I was now but something was wrong. Did I get on the wrong one? Did I miss the stop? There's no way. I did this every day last year so even if I tried to forget, my body would remember. Yet, it was gone. The sign was taken down, the windows were boarded up; everything about it looked abandoned. I had no air to breathe and my heart ached with sadness. How much have I missed?

I tried to stop them but the tears fell from my eyes before I knew what was happening. I sat back down with a plop and hoped I pulled off not looking like my dog just died. I was to blame for not knowing all of this happened while I was away. I could only imagine how sad he must be not having his job anymore and based off of the nonexistent notice on the door, I don't think they moved locations. Even if we didn't talk about me and where I was for a whole year, I wanted to find a way to contact him so I could be his comfort.

Back home, I questioned if there was any reason for me to be back. The person I was most excited to see was gone and I didn't know where he went. Now I really regret not leaving him a note. I sat on my couch with my legs crossed trying to relax as much as I could. Getting on social media was best for times like these right? Now that I think about it, I signed out before I left and hadn't signed in since. There are probably a few people wondering where I went and I did just go cold turkey. Might as well add that to the list of things to feel guilty about.

Just as I thought, I had tons of notifications but one in particular caught my eye. I quickly straightened my slouched position and my eyes grew wide. NO WAY I shouted so loud that my hearing faded; my ears way of trying to protect me from going deaf. Kyungsoo had requested to follow me even though I'm not sure how he found my account. That was quickly answered when I saw he also follows Chanyeol.

Chanyeol was a great friend who I didn't really get to spend much time with since he was always so busy working in the studio. I've always been grateful for our friendship but now I'd have to give him an extra tight hug next time I saw him, and knowing his personality, it would put a big smile on his face. I had lots of messages from him but they’d have to wait until I handled what I felt was “more important”. I didn't hesitate to follow Kyungsoo back and I hoped he took initiative to message me first just so I know everything was cool between us. I shouldn’t be so worried but it felt like I messed up a relationship we could’ve built. I’d have to play the waiting game now and see what was to become of us.

It's been two months and I've honestly forced myself to forget about it. I shouldn't feel so upset since I did the same thing to him, but he doesn't even seem to have been in his account to see that I followed him back. As much as I tried to forget, there's also a part of me that feels desperate to call Chanyeol and ask if he's heard from him.

Maybe I could build up the courage after I have a cup of coffee. I know it wouldn't be the same as Kyungsoo's but this new place has good reviews and there's a bus stop not too far from it. It's six stops away from my house, so as long as I keep track of how many times the bus stops, I can keep myself occupied until then.

45 minutes have passed and the bus is on stop number five. It seemed to have been stopping for a bit longer this time but I paid no mind to it. It wasn't until I saw a figure standing toward the front of the bus that I looked up and saw a man, who was breathing heavily and looking straight at me. Taking an even closer look, his clothes were wet. Oh shit was it raining? I totally didn’t have an umbrella.

He wasn't far away but I found myself squinting just to make sure what I was seeing was real. I hadn't recognized him on first glance because he looked different. Even more handsome than I last remember and he had a head full of hair. He looked great. I no longer cared about the coffee, I just wanted to talk to him. I started smiling and stood up faster than I could control my body, causing me to stumble on the edge of the seat, but thankfully he was there to grab my arm to stop my fall.

We stared at each other for what felt longer than it actually was. When I saw his chest rise as if he wanted to say something, I spoke up instead, wanting to be the first person to say something since I felt he deserved it.

"Kyungsoo...is that you?"

He held my hand, a look of desperation in his eyes. "Please, come with me. I can't get off this bus without you."

The offer was too good to pass up especially since I didn't get a chance to say my piece yet. I nodded and he smiled as he pulled me in the direction of the door. He removed his brown, leather jacket and used it to shield my hair and body from the pouring rain. I chuckled under my breath when I heard one elderly lady clap as we walked away with each other. He stopped under the veranda of the bus stop and brushed off the seat so I could sit down.

"Sorry I made you come out in the rain, I...just didn't want to lose you again." He shook the droplets of water off his jacket and sat down next to me.

"I'm sorry I left without getting the chance to tell you. I tried to, I really did." I spoke to him as I folded my headphones and put them in my bag.

"Don't worry about that, I'm just so happy I get to see you again." I could tell that admitting that made a blush rise on his cheeks. Gosh, he's so cute. He shyly scratched the back of his head and laughed slightly.

“My grandmother was sick and my mom wanted help taking care of her. I wanted to tell you but my flight was leaving that day so I couldn’t stick around.”

“It’s okay, I understand. I hope she’s doing better now.” He offered a comforting smile and I nodded my head. Thunder rolled across the sky and the raindrops increased. “I would say let’s go back to my job, but I just clocked out.” He pointed behind him and surely he aimed at the place I thought I was going to.

“Fate really wanted us to meet, that’s the cafe I was going to try today but I thought it was another stop away.”

He was intrigued, his eyebrows raised. “You want coffee?”

I suddenly felt extremely shy, my face felt hot and I wanted to smile to shake the nervousness. “Yeah…I really missed your espressos.” That definitely made him smile and blush harder.

He let out a breathy laugh, “I have a small machine at home. It feels wrong inviting you to my house so soon but I’d prefer if you weren’t in the rain, you’re not wearing closed shoes.” He pointed down at my shoes, he was right. “I could take you home and bring one back to you if that makes you more comfortable, I don’t want to seem creepy.”

He was the farthest thing from creepy and perhaps it because I had feelings for him. Sure it was dangerous to go off of that but there was a reason we met again, it wasn’t just coincidence. It was now or never. If I wanted to see how far this would take me, I had to be brave like I promised I would. “I don’t mind going to your house if you don’t mind.”

He seemed surprised by my answer but satisfied nonetheless. “I’ll go bring my car around, here take my jacket.”

Before I could deny his offer, he draped it over my shoulders and ran out to head toward his car. Would I sound crazy if I said I was falling for him more?

His place was gorgeous. Nothing fancy, but he kept it so clean that it looked expensive. I expected nothing less from him but seeing it with my own eyes was surely a sight to see.

“Please, come in and make yourself at home.”

I carefully walked over and sat on the small loveseat that gave me the perfect view of him in the kitchen. I was so attracted to watching him do such simple things and how much attention he paid to every detail. He was charming, tantalizing, arousing.

It wasn’t long before he left his place in the kitchen, carrying the perfect small cup. He placed it on the wooden coffee table and took a seat on the couch with me.

I thanked him before taking a sip. Perfect as always. Now I was curious what else he could get me addicted to.

“I hope it lived up to your expectations.” He asked when I placed the empty cup back down on the table.

“I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone as good as you Kyungsoo.” That sounded more like a confession but I’m sure he knew what I meant and even if he didn’t, I wouldn’t take back what I said.

We sat and talked for hours. He was good at making me laugh with his stories about work and his best friend Baekhyun. He asked me about my hometown, my favorite foods; any question he thought of. The rain had already stopped but I wasn’t ready to go home. I wanted to enjoy my time with him more even if we sat in silence.

“Sorry I kept you here so long, it’s already dark out. I can take you home now if you’d like.”

Sadly I’d have to go home at some point, but I wish I didn’t. “Thank you, I’ll go home and whip up some dinner.”

He gasped and his jaw dropped slightly. “Oh gosh I didn’t even ask if you were hungry that whole time, it’s been hours! I’m so so-“

I chuckled and brought a hand up to his cheek to caress it with my thumb, surprising the both of us. I quickly removed my hand from him with wide eyes; it was my turn to apologize. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

He wrapped a hand around my waist and leaned over to plant a soft and gentle kiss to my lips. So this is what they meant about the sparks you feel when you really like someone. It was quick but it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He pulled back to watch my reaction and when I didn’t do anything, I could see he was ready to say sorry again. Luckily I stopped him in his tracks, leaning over to kiss him once more.

One hand on the small of my back and the other cupping my left cheek. He was a great kisser but to be honest even if he wasn’t, I’d still enjoy it. The way he smells, the gentle touches, it just felt like he’d been waiting to do this for a long time. When I threaded my fingers through his hair, he swiped a tongue over my bottom lip to deepen the kiss.

My day hadn’t gone as planned but I wasn’t complaining especially because I was tired of growing regretful over my previous actions; or lack thereof. He pulled away from the kiss, lips pink and slightly swollen.

“I love you. I know I haven’t known you for very long, but I know what I feel and I know how special you are to me. I was sad when you were gone and I don’t want to feel that again. I want to be with you even when you are away. I just want you.”

There goes the butterflies again. I’ve had boyfriends before but none of them made me feel the way Kyungsoo does. Everything about and with him felt different in a good way and that’s what I wanted in a relationship. He felt ready to do what would make me happy and I was more than ready to the same. I mirrored his confession in my own words, finally saying what I needed with confidence.

Fast forward six months and the relationship was still going strong, but no one ever thought otherwise. You were finally going to hang with Chanyeol and Baekhyun, your first outing with the both of them as a couple. Just a casual picnic to enjoy the warm weather and catch up.

“Are you ready love?” Kyungsoo came into the room to check on you. He loved watching you get dressed, you made everything look so pretty. It stirred up all the emotions inside of him, but one in particular won the battle. He walked up and hugged your waist. “You look gorgeous baby.”

You turned to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. “That makes two of us. Can you zip this up for me please?” You turn around once more, your back facing him. His hand ran down your spine slowly, goosebumps rising on the skin. His breathing picked up some and you could already read his mind.

“We’re going to be late Kyungsoo…” your sentence came out like a whisper.

“They’ll be fine, just lift your dress for me yeah?” He turned you around and kissed down your neck and the valley between your breasts. He walked you backwards to the bed, letting your back hit the mattress. “I won’t be able to hold out until we get back home.”

Before you could argue, he kissed down your stomach as he bunched the fabric of your dress around your waist. His hands spread your legs apart at the thighs, rubbing up the inner part at an achingly slow pace. You held your breath as his fingers lightly danced over your clothed pussy, a wet spot already forming on the lace fabric.

“So wet…I just wanna taste you a little before we go okay?” He looked up at you, sliding your panties to the side, working his fingers through your folds.

You nodded and he wasted no time diving into you. He lapped you up quickly, trying to satisfy you both as fast as he could. He had a tight grip on your thighs that draped over his shoulders. You were squirming with his tongue pressing roughly against your clit.

“K-kyungsoo, please…” your head fell back as you tried closing your legs but he wouldn’t allow it.

“I know baby, just a little more.” His voice muffled but it sent vibrations through your body.

You barely survived the few minutes he spent slurping on your juices just to spit on your pussy to make it wet again. You were definitely going to have to change these panties before you left. He stopped his abuse on your clit and slid your panties down and off your ankles. He unbuckled his jeans and let his dick pop free. He towered over you, rubbing his dick against your clit.

“Fuck, you feel so good already princess…” He looked at you, loving how your face contorted as he slowly pushed in.

“Fuck Kyungsoo please, I need you.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice, his hips snapping forward. He loved knowing he was the only one to make you a whimpering and moaning mess. The only one that could feel your walls contract around his dick. The only one whose name you screamed. You were his and his only and he knew you felt the same. The squelch and squeeze of your pussy brought him to his orgasm much faster than he’d have liked, but this was technically supposed to be a quickie.

“I’m gonna cum, s-shit…”

He pushed your legs to your chest to get a better angle. He leaned down to bring you in a hungry, sloppy kiss. The plushness of his lips was a complete contrast to the rough thrusts. It blended perfectly and pushed you to your orgasm. He moaned feeling your walls tighten and he couldn’t hold back his own release.

You both breathed heavily as you came down from your high. He kissed your forehead gently and got up to get redressed and clean you off. His phone rang in the pocket of his pants and he quickly answered it.

“Hey Baek, we’re leaving out now.” Kyungsoo looked over at your fucked out form and winked.

“Kyungsoo stop fucking and get your ass over here! And make sure you wash your hands!”

You chuckled seeing Kyungsoo’s face and jaw drop before hanging up and clearing his throat. “Come on handsome, we have to go before they get too hungry and start gnawing on each other.”

He laughed and pressed another kiss to your forehead, grabbing the keys off the desk and your hand to head out the door.

#exo kyungsoo #exo smut #exo #exo do #exo do kyungsoo #kyungsoo smut #kyungsoo x reader

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blushblushbear · 5 months

Note

cashew headcanons please im so so gay for him

TIME FOR DIS NUT aka our darling little bookworm

cut cause I went on for a bit and none of it is important OOPS

okay first off since he's a college boy let's start with the fact that he has zero alcohol tolerance

like none

he'll have 2 sips of a light beer or a half a shot of malibu and he's red in the face sweating and swaying like 'oh wow, I'm really feeling it haha'

Same with coffee

anything past a normal strength cup he's VIBRATING

he doesn't have a heart condition like Nimh but give him a shot of espresso and he'll think he does

is constantly waiting for someone to ask him for book recommendations

and when they do he is sponge bob's eager face BOY IS OVER THE MOON

also he doesn't just read good books

he'll literally read anything

he ADORES trashy novels

especially if they're spicy *eyebrow wiggle*

he recognizes they aren't good but they are so wild and out of pocket like

WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S SECRETLY HIS EX'S BROTHER AND ALSO HIS STEP MOM'S LOVER AND DATING HIS EVIL SECRET HALF COUSIN WHOSE TRYING TO KILL THEIR UNCLE AND HIS DAD BUT CAUGHT FEELINGS AND IS NOW PLOTTING TO TAKE HIM HOSTAGE ////WHAT?!////

he'd love shows like gossip girl and pretty little liars if they were BOOKS instead

except OOPS they are actually and he'd love to infodump about that little fact to me if I let him (at least I think they both are?? I know pretty little liars is-- THAT PLOT IS /NUTS/)

honestly he loves when things are written well but he also loves when plots are NUTS

the only kind of nuts he can have

well... second kind

he'd be a secret college slut (respectfully and also def not actually a secret) if he wasn't head over heels for you

now he's just in your dms/texts constantly

his family is just as quiet and mousey as he is

everyone is just as nerdy

though his dad doesn't read as much-- he's more tv and movies and games nerd

he gets his love of books from his mom's side

he'd KILL to be a librarian

or work at a bookstore

English major vibes

but not just vibes that actually is his major lol

has def had a crush on 3 different librarians growing up and 1 creative writing teacher

can't math for shit

his favorite parts of campus friends taking him on nights out is him getting to read in little corners he can find and the 3am breakfasts at the local diner

I've talked about this before but him Nimh and Poe are in a book club together

he thinks Nimh is the coolest cause he's a PA for a publisher

can read a harry potter length book series in an afternoon (also hates terfs <3 )

his favorite genres are romance of any kind but he does have a special fondness for the trashier romances, fantasy, and he does love a mystery but mostly cause he can never see the twists coming

the smartest idiot you'll ever meet

or maybe he's the dumbest smart guy???

either way he is both very clever and very simple all at once

also very well meaning

incapable of wrong

only of oops

(a lot of oops actually, he's kinda clumsy)

once went a whole day without eating cause someone recommended a new series and he LIKED IT VERY MUCH

I wish for the life of me I could remember ANY book series atm

I know of a few by like--- vaguely what they're about but I can't remember their names

he could though

he will spend whole dates telling you the plot of a book series in great detail

loves pets

not great with them

also low key allergic to a few

big rip cause he loves cuddles

cries over a cat at a distance while sniffing

also really likes birds

met a few birds as a squirrel and now he knows Poe who was a bird so like--

birds are buds of his

can't say no to something cute

cute eraser, cute pen, cute notebook, cute cookie, cute you

just can't refuse cute

would totally rock a cottage core vibe if he could manage to keep a plant alive

he lost his ficus Marcel and he's still low key getting over it

uses a wallet sized photo of you as a book mark

def has you or a pic of you and him as a lock screen

the home screen is a pic of a page of a book

is very good at those 'name the book this opening line is from' challenge

good omens, both the book and the show, WRECKED HIM

actually good omens was his fav book to screen adaption thus far

he has a few others but he's more excited about good omens

wants to be friends with Aziraphale

I could ramble on forever but I think I'll end it here

loves that hack where you put cheese on ramen

#bear text #blush blush #blush blush game #bb game #bear talks #bb #cashew blush blush #blush blush cashew #cashew bb #cashew #bear answers

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wildemaven · 11 months

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Congrats again honey! I’d love a little drabble if possible - let’s say 11 and 73 for Marcus Pike 🥰 you should be so proud of yourself! E💕

On the House

Wildemaven 1k Celebration / 1k Masterlist

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Mentions of food and drinks, otherwise just fluffy cuteness.

Prompts: - The feeling is mutual." / "It's impossible to get rid of me."

You faintly hear the bell ring, signaling to you the front door opening to a customer, either coming or going.

The frantic whirring of grinding beans and the rumble of the espresso machine pulling two shots, drown out the more muted sounds of the shop.

A quick glance over your shoulder you see one of your regulars waiting at the cash stand, he smiles when he sees your attention is already on him.

It’s a quick dumping of shots and swirling of steamed milk into a paper cup, placing it on the counter for the kind older gentleman who’s been snacking on his scone as he waits, bidding you a ‘good day’ with his warm coffee in hand.

“Good morning! What will it be today? Your regular?” Memorizing orders isn’t easy, but when a cute face stops in regularly, it becomes fairly easy to remember they drink a 16 ounce latte with 2% milk and 2 pumps of vanilla.

“Morning! Yeah, can I get it on ice today— if that’s not too much?” He asks, noting to ask him hot or cold next time he stops in.

“Of course!” You say as you start to prep his drink, grateful he’s the only one in line so you don’t have to buzz through it. “I almost didn’t recognize you without the suit and tie.” Pointing to his more laid back outfit.

He glances down and smiles, a plain tshirt and jeans are today’s attire, realizing he’s only ever came in before heading to work.

“Yeah, I have the day off, no need for the office uniform.” He chuckles, heat pricking his face at the way you seem to know his order and what he wears regularly.

He’s only been in the city for about a month, still learning all his neighborhood has to offer, but settles on this coffee shop as his go-to place, especially since it’s on his way to work— it doesn’t hurt that you greet him most mornings either.

“So what is it you do then, that is so official?” You ask, adding the vanilla to the cup of iced milk before pouring the two steaming shots over top, the dark liquid curling into the milk. “If you can’t say, I totally understand.”

“FBI, Art Crimes Department to be more specific — I have the day off. My name is Marcus.” His hand shoots out in an attempt to put himself out there, being that he is still pretty new to the area.

Sliding his order across the counter, you give him your name as you shake his hand, the gesture lingers a bit, getting lost in each other’s gaze— laughter breaks the silence, both of you realizing what just occurred.

“Well, it’s on the house today, Marcus.”

“Oh no! Let me pay, please! I don’t want you to get in trouble for this.” Pulling several bills from his wallet and holding them out to you.

“Lucky for you, I’m the owner, so I make the rules— it’s on the house. If you want, you can make it up to me by taking me out to dinner tonight, I’m off at 5. I enjoy your company in the mornings, I’d love to get to know you better— outside of daily latte orders.”

He doesn’t respond, you think he must be thinking of the best way to let you down.

“I’m so sorry, I thought we had a moment there— now I’m being weird and too forward with you.“ A nervous laugh escapes as you try to explain yourself.

The pairing of his jaw tick and cute smirk nearly take you out.

“Definitely not being too forward, the feeling is mutual— I’d love to take you to dinner tonight. What’s your address? I’ll pick you up at 7.”

“I’m happy I didn’t lose you as a customer, my mornings would have sucked without your smile.” Handing him your address that you scribbled onto his receipt paper.

“Never, it's impossible to get rid of me."

#wildemaven 1k celebration #Marcus Pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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hyuckmov · 1 year

Text

request #2: jaemin angst angst, that's pretty much it, some fluff, ends...ambiguously? wc: 2.3k a/n: THIS is not my best work...actually i feel like this is kind of bad and i was gna scrap it HOWEVER i felt bad for taking this long so i'm going to post this and then i might make up for it with another piece of jaemin angst sometime. this is loosely structured like 'the five times jaemin proposes to you (and the ....)' but it just felt kind of cruel of jaemin to propose 2 more times as per the trope and also i would have to write a lot more to fill in the gaps. <3 thanks for reading anywayyyy

jaemin first proposed to you on an autumn night. or rather, it was 11pm, you were closing up the empty cafe, and a boy had run in through the doors requesting one of the worst coffee orders you've ever heard of in your entire life, as a barista or not.

"i have an assignment-" he makes out, breathless from the run. "it's due at 12. i just really really need to get my last thousand words in-"

"last thousand?" you raise your eyebrows at him. he's pretty, is the first thing you notice. long lashes, long black hair falling over his eyes, a grandpa cardigan hanging off his broad shoulders. even as he's hunched over the counter, he tilts his head and you can see a lazy smile stretch across his face. it's a smile that makes you temporarily forget that it's fall and you're freezing cold. it's a smile that looks like summer.

"last thousand." he confirms, the grin growing until it's cheshire-cat wide.

"well then…" you turn around, starting to busy yourself with the espresso machine. "you had better order 2 cups, don't you think?"

his laugh sounds out in the still air of the cafe. heading over to one of the counter seats, he props his chin up dramatically with one hand, his eyes going soft and round as he stares at you lovingly. "marry me," he sighs.

and even though you respond with a light, "after you finish your assignment", he swears he can see your cheeks burning red when you pass him his coffee.

"marry me, y/n." jaemin sighs. even from your view of him on videocall, the image slightly grainy from the darkness in his room, there's something endearing about watching jaemin recover from pulling an all-nighter. unable to keep his yawns in and rubbing sleepiness from his eyes, he sips lazily on a cup of iced coffee, blinking blearily up at his screen. there's something too tender about it, stinging lightly at your chest, that makes you look away.

"you can't make that your catchphrase jaemin," you say, as easily as you can. "i'm going to get the wrong idea."

without missing a beat, he beams at his webcam a huge smile. "alright then. but thank you so much for staying up with me, really." there's something unreadable in his expression, but it may just be the dimness of the room.

"it's no problem," you give him a small smile. "breakfast in an hour?"

"i'll pay."

"what do you think?"

"jaemin, you're overthinking this," you soothe. "there's nothing wrong with that conversation, you're just being you."

"you're my best friend, that's a biased viewpoint," he whines.

you're my best friend. steeling yourself, you try to shake the disappointment from your head. it had been a year since the two of you met, jaemin slowly worming his way into your life until he was irreplaceable. he had almost every meal with you. he knew things about you almost no one else did. you seemed to live your life twice: the first time as you actually experienced it and the second time relaying everything to him, as he did to you.

you were so sure your feelings had faded — chalked up your feelings to him as inevitable, and soon to pass. until he started to incessantly bring up a girl he was paired with for a project, and you began to realise that maybe you never truly stopped liking him.

clearing your throat, you squint at his phone screen, reading out: "dress warmly, it's getting cold outside. "see, that's a really sweet message!" shoving him in the shoulder, you bite back, "why don't you ever send me messages like that?"

"that's not the point," he scowls. "she never replied after that."

"maybe she just got busy," you pat him on the arm consolingly.

"i'm too annoying," he grumbles, frowning at his phone as he locks it and throws it to the carpeted floor."dress warmly…who even says that? i'm just some guy from her lab project."

"you're not just some guy," you insist. "have you seen yourself with lab goggles on? she was definitely just too giddy from your message to reply."

as if on cue, his phone vibrates from where it lies on the floor. you reach over and pick it up, as jaemin buries his head in his couch cushions.

"look!" you hold his phone out to him.

peeking out from behind his fingers, his eyes scan the message. you're so sweet, thanks jaem! sorry for the late response, my phone battery died :(

heaving a sigh of relief, he smiles sweetly down at his phone. "you were right." he reaches over and pulls you into the hug, snuggling his face into your hair. “y/n…"

"don't propose to me," you warn, and, because you're really his best friend…"save it for her one day."

he beams up at you at that, but somehow the warmth of his smile burns ice cold all the way through you.

in the car, you and jaemin are silent for almost all the way home.

at first, it's a shocked silence, one that followed the two of you out of the restaurant and hung in the air for the first 5 minutes as you drove.

when jaemin pulled out the ring in the middle of the restaurant — you watching from two tables down, your phone in your hand ready to record the moment for him, your heart pounding in your throat —, there had been a moment when you truly would have been fine with seeing her say yes. with walking up to congratulate them. with squeezing her hand tight and telling her to take care of your best friend.

for a moment you had finally done it: talked yourself out of the heartache. filed away the memories of lazy afternoons spent lying on the floor of jaemin's room watching him obsess over science magazines. chipped through the love which had built up for years — the love that meant he could smile at you with a glow that felt like summer, which meant each time he craned his neck over to look at you through his lashes you felt your breath catch in your chest.

for a split second, the notion that jaemin was getting married to the girl he met in his lab project 3 years ago had finally sunken in. even after third wheeling their dates for months, waking up in the middle of the night as jaemin panicked over fights he had with her, consoling him with a bitter taste in your mouth. it had taken a proposal and the specific sight of her hands over her mouth and eyes glistening to finally convince you that it was permanent. that he loved her. that he always would.

until she shook her head. her hands coming away from her face, to make it even clearer. she shook her head again. she tugged at his shirt sleeve, trying to get him to stand up. whispering apologies to other diners in the restaurant. saying sorry to him before grabbing her purse and rushing out, avoiding his eyes the whole time. his eyes, round and wide, filled with hurt.

in the car, you replay the moment in your head again and again. you're sure jaemin is doing the same thing. and its the thought of him being stuck in that moment forever that draws you to break the silence, reaching out to him with words.

"i'm sure the two of you just need to talk it out," you try, making your voice as gentle as possible. you glance over at him, and he's staring resolutely at his hands. "it isn't an easy decision, maybe she's just overwhelmed."

silence. he's still not looking at you, playing with the velvet box with his fingers. the defeated slouch of his shoulders prompting you to focus your eyes on the road ahead. because what could you say? guilt scrapes against your chest as you remember how it felt watching her leave, confusion and worry but also the faintest prickle of relief.

"jaemin, everything is going to be okay, i promise you," you try again, as you pull the car into the driveway of your house. "look, it's not good for you to be alone right now, so just come in with me and i'll make you something to drink, and-"

"marry me, y/n."

at the words, you snap your head over to look at him. he's already staring at you, a harshness to his gaze that makes you want to back away from him.

"what?"

"marry me," he grabs your wrist roughly with one hand, beginning to pry open the ring box with the other.

"jaemin what is wrong with you-" you struggle against him trying to pull your hands back, adrenaline rushing through you.

"you love me, don't you?" he demands, trapping both your wrists in his hands. "you've loved me since college."

your arms go slack. so he knew.

"jaemin," you try again, all the breath seeming to have evaporated from your lungs. "let go of me, please."

"you love me, so marry me," he continues as if you hadn't spoken. "isn't this what you want? you win, okay y/n?"

"i don't want this," you raise your voice over his as slowly, you realise what he's implying. "i don't want to marry you, i only ever want to see you happy-"

"you ruined this-" he spits at you, his words quickening. he lets go of your hands and runs them through his hair. "from the start i knew something was wrong. you picked out the date, you picked out the restaurant, you picked out the flowers-"

"i was trying to help you-"

"you even picked out this fucking ring." opening the box, he grabs it and holds it in front of you. his voice rising to a level you'd never heard, because jaemin never raised his voice at you, he shouts,"everything you did was just for yourself, you're so fucking delusional it makes me sick!"

the sound rings in your ears, it seems to echo endlessly in the small space of the car. you're unable to breathe from how hard you're sobbing. you're aware that by not saying anything you're making things ten times worse, as if you had nothing to say for yourself, but it's the look of jaemin like this — his face twisted with anger, as if you were nothing more than a stranger, that hurt you so badly you couldn't make out the words.

your hands reach out for him, but you pull away because that just proves him right.

"j-jaem, i would never… i never did that to you," the words sound pathetic even to you, but you can't think of anything else to say. because you loved him. even as you were sitting there, you still did.

jaemin bites his lip in contempt. "whatever."

grabbing your trembling hand, he shoves the ring onto your finger — ironically, it's a perfect fit.

all rationality tells you not to open the door. but something in you always wanted a better goodbye.

jaemin looks surprised to see you. he straightens from how he was slumped against the opposite door, hands shoved into his pockets.

"did i wake you?"

the concern in his eyes is too much for you to bear. "why did you come here?"

swallowing, he exhales shakily. "i'm sorry."

"not good enough." for the first time in all the time you've known him, you choose cruelty just as he did that day in the car.

"i'm sorry for everything i said," he continues, stepping towards you, his gaze heavy with a seriousness you haven't seen since. "i don't even believe any of the things i said. everything i did was wrong."

the words sink in. of everything that he said, it's sickening to you how your heart practically aches to forgive him, begging you to throw your arms around him and tell him he's absolved of everything. you force yourself to stand your ground, digging your heels into the hurt that has accumulated over the past month, over the years. picking your words carefully, you look away.

"it's stupid. but as much as i liked you, and maybe even loved you, i've never once heard you say those words in the way i wanted it." you take a deep breath. "and what you said that day… that's not the type of thing someone just forgives. you can't just take it out on me, leave for a month, and expect me to understand."

"i know that," jaemin says, softly.

there's a pause.

"i'm going to head back in now," you hesitate. "if you don't have anything else to say."

"wait, y/n-" he reaches out to grab your wrist, his grip immediately slackening into a gentle hold once you jolt. "let me try to make it up to you. i can't do anything without you, nothing feels right without you. i knew it from the moment i left…" he winces. "the moment i left the car, and i know it's going to feel wrong forever if i don't at least try to make it right with you."

you can't rise above it, and you can't cut him out of your life like you wanted to so badly. because you couldn't be without him either.

"call me tomorrow, and tell me again." meeting his eyes again, you tell him as firmly as you can. "i'm not forgiving you straight away but, just…call me again."

"i will." and there it is, the faintest hint of a smile. and just as he turns to leave, he looks back at you. "and y/n… i'm sorry. for never saying it like you needed me to. for ruining things."

you tell him you're sorry too.

tags: @91qowngus, @sundhaelatte, @jaemboi64, @sassy-author

#jaemin angst #jaemin scenario #nct dream angst #nct dream scenario #jaemin au #nct dream au

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