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#and it's still pretty frustrating when she tries to make me speak in the same kind of language bc i just don't hear it around that often
hua-fei-hua · 2 years
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the main reason i don’t take “i’m a native speaker of the source language” as the be-all, end-all for translation arguments in fandom specifically (as in, between fans who are not professional or even hobbyist translators) is bc, well. sometimes.......... native speakers............ are bad at their own language, too.
#we're on tumblr. we've seen the reading comprehension on this site which is mostly americans whose native language is ostensibly english#alternatively i don't take 'i asked someone who is a native speaker of the source language' as the be-all end-all of t/l arguments#like yes ofc native speakers opinions should be considered. and if i didn't speak any of the source language then fuck man#i'm not qualified to argue with them LOL. but this post is mostly me thinking abt things w/cn origin#bc i've been told my whole life my mom is Very Highly Educated in chinese language arts and speaks appropriately#and it's still pretty frustrating when she tries to make me speak in the same kind of language bc i just don't hear it around that often#but i think it has at least taught me to *think* abt things in that kind of Highly Educated highly-referential/symbolic way#even if i lack the knowledge base of references/symbols to utilize it myself i can go digging for them when t/l from cn --> en#which i think is pretty interesting bc it places me in this kind of 'historically this is what the word has meant' pov#which is just not smth we really do/consider in english esp when looking at modern texts but i think is rlly necessary in chinese#even when looking at texts written in the modern day! and thinking abt it that's probably the source kernel for some gnshn discourse#bc cn is such a context-heavy language; context which goes beyond the meaning of the bare words on the page#bc en doesn't consider historical context of words we're not used to reading into words w/different historical nuances#and since deciding whether the historical or the modern connotations should apply in a certain context is a Skill#the arguments end up sounding like 'historically it has meant x' 'so what? it means y in the modern day'#'yes but the historical meaning adds depth and nuance that changes the interpretation in this context' 'why should it tho?'#and the answer to that is just bc that's how it goes in the language!! Sometimes Other Languages And Cultures Do Things Differently!#anyway this kind of thinking definitely also affects how i write; with all the highly deliberate word choices#and occasional referential nature of my phrasing and whatnot. i like to imagine i have a somewhat chinese writing style in english#like not entirely. i don't craft my native english sentences the way i would craft an english translation of a chinese sentence#the latter of which i typically try to keep similar to the way cn sentences flow which is Different from good en sentence flow#but the extremely specific wording at times and trying to pack a lot of meaning into a few choice words using external context/references#that feels like something i can bring into my english writing and have it read as an english work w/echoes of another language hidden under#花話
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pupkashi · 3 months
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satoru loves yapping [to you]
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satoru was always chatty, shoko could definitely attest to that statement, subjected to too many conversations she definitely did not care about.
“isn’t it hotter than usual? i swear last year it was colder around this time of year-” he began, continuing to talk as shoko tried to focus instead on healing an injured itadori in front of her.
it seemed that his chatty characteristic only amplified when you were around, his eyes would visibly brighten, practically gleaming when you appeared in his eyesight.
“sweetheart! how are you? staying cold in this heat?” you can help but smile at him, walking straight into his already outstretched arms and squeezing his waist a bit, pressing a soft peck to his cheek before pulling away.
“heat? it feels so good out today!” you sigh happily, waving yellow to shoko and itadori, “it is hotter than last year though I’ll tell you that,” satoru grins at your words, turning to shoko with a flint in his eyes before turning back to you.
“that’s what I said! global warming is getting too severe-” the two of you walking out hand in hand, the taller man still talking as you listened intently.
satoru never felt the need to be quiet around you, always finding things to talk about no matter the task or the hour.
“and so you would think that since they were doing so bad they would think of making changes right?” you nod along, humming so he knows you’re listening, “but no! they keep going with same stupid strategy and it’s so frustrating as a fan to see, i just want him to achieve his dreams,” he sighs sadly.
“can you pass the salt?” you ask, taking it from his much larger hand, thanking him before speaking up again, “why does he keep resigning if they always treat him so poorly?” you ask, satoru smiles, heart warming at the fact that you really do pay attention to him.
“he’s always wanted to win with Ferrari- let me take you back to the beginning” he begins, giving you a summary of charles leclerc’s life as you finish cooking dinner.
you could always tell when he got a bit insecure of how talkative he was, but you’d always smile at him, urging him to go on. “and then what? why’d you stop talking?” you’d say, making him smile widely before quietly starting again.
“I’m listening, angel boy,” you mumble in between dreams, listening to him talk about how orange juice isn’t the same as it was when he was growing up and how the new game he downloaded was more complicated than it seems.
it could be nearing 2 in the morning but you wouldn’t mind, satoru would be discussing how and why wombats have cube shaped poops and how koalas eat eucalyptus and pandas have half a brain cell they don’t bother to use.
“it has no real nutritional value and that’s why they have to eat so much of it,” he mumbles, eyes drooping as he cuddles closer to you.
“aren’t they made to digest meat?” you whisper, head tucked into the crook of his neck, your breath running a chill down his spine.
“think so, dunno” he mumbles back, breathing evening out before he’s fully asleep.
your eyes open slowly as you crane your neck, his pink lips slightly parted as he takes soft breaths, snowy hair pointing every which way.
you can’t help but smile at your lover.
“goodnight pretty boy” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “my little yapper,” you chuckle to yourself, already looking forward to what he’d talk about tomorrow.
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masterlist
a/n: hi friends ! just a quick little something i put together bc i miss satoru so bad lately </3 he’s def a yapper and i want to hear him talk all day and night
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi
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finelinevogue · 1 year
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he’s just harry
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summary - a couple of fan interactions with harry on the streets of london
word count: +1.1k
pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader
Even though the media make it out that Harry hates being out in public on his days off, you know it is actually one of his favourite things to do.
Especially with you.
Harry is known for being a private man, but he can’t help what fans secretly record and post on the internet. He would do the same for Stevie Nicks and you would do the same for Taylor Swift, so neither of you are opposed to reporting anyone for secretly filming. 
A favourite pastime of yours and Harry’s is to actually watch back story-time videos of fans, from when they have met you and Harry. Which is what you were both currently doing, after having your dinner. 
Harry is laying on the bed in your shared hotel room. You lay against his back and are held tight to him by his arm wrapped around your waist. 
He leans down to look at you every few minutes and leaves a kiss on your forehead, just because he can. His fingers around your waist snake under your Pleasing sweatshirt - the one that is actually his - and stroke tiny circles on the skin of your tummy.
With some light jazz music playing in the background, you and Harry can’t feel anything but peace. 
He has your phone in his hand whilst he scrolls through the latest videos on TikTok with the tag # harrystyles.
The next video he scrolls to after and edit of himself on stage is from a meeting of a fan in London.
“I just met Harry Styles.” The girl screams from the inside of her car. The video pans around and her boyfriend is sat there with a grin, no doubt because his girlfriend is so happy.
“I get to say that every day.” You comment, making Harry pinch the skin at your waist. You laugh and carry on.
“Can I just say, first of all, I have been waiting for this moment for years. Always in my mysterious girl era, just in case. And the one day I am wearing slouchy clothes I stumble upon him on a random back road in London. Life clearly hates me.” She begins her story.
“She looked great, I thought.” You said and Harry made no comment. Most likely because he never paid attention to looking at anyone with interest anymore - not since he had found you.
“And Y/N. Oh my God! She’s fucking stunning. Like, I understand why Harry snatched her up.”
“I did find a pretty good egg.” Harry agreed.
“I am not an egg.” 
“Whatever you say, baby.”
“But they were both so lovely. Harry was really kind and thanked me for supporting him. I asked for a photo but they politely declined, which is a little frustrating, but maybe it was for the best since I looked so bad today!” The girl continues her story.
“Fuck sake.” Harry mumbles out and you pause the video, already knowing what thoughts were relaying through his mind. 
You turned your head so you could see his whole face before speaking to him.
“You’re not a bad person for not taking a photo with them. You shouldn’t make yourself feel bad either. You’re a person, just as they are. People are allowed to close off their privacy for the day if they want. Okay?” 
“Thank you.” Is all Harry responds with. Well, that and a minutes worth of kisses. 
You move onto another video, so not to upset Harry any more with the previous one. You couldn’t know whether she might say something else bad and you weren’t prepared to make Harry sad, so the next video it was.
This came from a girl in London airport.
“Oh fuck.” Harry instantly says when he sees the girl on the screen.
“What?” You asked, confused. You hadn’t even been aware this interaction had taken place and you were with him in the airport. Now you were just curious as to what had gone down.
“This is going to be so embarrassing for me.” He wines and tries to bury his face in your neck. You kiss the tip of his nose and push him away.
The video starts by the girl looking really nervous, before Harry pans into view on the other side of the screen. It was only their chins in the view, but it was still a very lovely view of your boyfriend.
“Hi.” The girl fumbles over her words.
“Hello.” He says, removing his sunglasses from his face since he had been found.
“I just saw you from over there and had to come and say hello. I know this is probably really annoying for you and I’m going to leave so as to not be a burden to you, but I really love your music and you are an amazing human being.” The girl rambles, but that might be the nicest of things you have heard a fan say to Harry.
Before the girl can leave, Harry asks that all important question.
“Thank you so much. Would you maybe like a photo?” He asks. 
“Aw Harry.” You pout and he pinches your waist again. “Quit that, will you?” You hit elbow him in his ribs gently.
“Yes please. Wow, thank you.” The video then tilts so Harry and this girl come onto the screen. Harry smiles a small smile and holds up his fingers in a peace sign. He looks very cute.
“Have a safe flight.” Harry says and goes to hold his hand out for the fan to shake, but instead knocks her phone out of her hand and it drops to the floor. 
“Harry!” You gasp and sit up a little more attentively.
“I know.” He cringes.
Luckily the phone was alright, but Harry had to prolong the conversation with the fan and even offered her a new one. She turned that down and thankfully he didn’t have to owe anything to anyone. You can tell at the end of the video he is embarrassed though.
“You dickhead.” You laugh at him. 
He puts the phone down and joins his other hand under your sweatshirt so they are both enjoying tracing over your skin. You hum in delight and breathe in the air that is scented by him.
“I’m tired.” He says, knocking his head against yours to rest.  It had been a long day of rehearsals and meetings for him today, but he didn’t mind because he knew that it would be worth it to spend an evening of peace with you. 
“I know, baby.”  You say, reaching a hand up behind your head to stroke over his curls. “We can go to bed now, if you want?” 
“Okay.”
You and Harry end up spending the next twenty minutes getting ready for bed and cuddle before you are both fast asleep, awaiting the first, last, ‘Love On Tour’ show tomorrow. 
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hello! i’m love your post and arts so much! I look at your posts after a hard day and my mood immediately changes to excellent. can I ask a couple of questions?
which pairing with Ethan do you prefer?
and… can we get to know you better? a little biography?
Thank you for your time! I'll be waiting for new arts! (sorry if i made mistakes, my english is not so good. im russian)
i like basically every ship with ethan! it mostly depends on the mood im in, but if im being honest, mithan, winterfield, and wintersberg gets frustrating to think about because they all dont treat ethan well canonically... lethan is fun because they have never met and i can make my own assumptions!
i used to like wintersberg the most and i still do like it, i just have expanded my horizons to other ships as well...., its mostly like a punchline to me though. they have the funniest potential which is why a majority of their posts is just joke comics. i do not like how people try to erase how karl is arrogant and egotistical tho. thats like removing the flavor.... the way karl acts is just very funny to me, hes so lame in a good way and i like how everytime he talks to ethan it sounds like hes twirling his hair and kicking his feet. canonically speaking, karl was very much in the wrong for trying to use rose and not elaborating and i will die on this hill. ethan is not in the wrong for being disgusted and angry that karl would ever try and propose that in the deal. karl is very arrogant so when ethan says no to him it makes him mad and he tries to use fear to get ethan to take his deal (kicking his chair and warning him) i like karl, i like how messed up and arrogant he is but i dislike how people try to portray him as a nice guy. however, in a AU where everythings the same except he doesnt try to use rose i do enjoy the dynamic they could have, especially if the teamed up (not with the deal where they use rose. ethan wouldnt agree unless karl never involved rose in the first place). karl is just a very entertaining character and i like him a lot, hes funny and his personality can be extremely hilarious
mia and ethan is pretty tragic and thinking about it too much makes me a bit sad, imo in a reality where ethan survives re8, he needs to divorce mia. im not saying ethan needs to hate mia and never talk to her again i just dont think they should be so intimate together because of her behavior... please do not take this as anti mia. they loved each other dearly but it wasnt healthy. their relationship was kept afloat by lies and mia doesnt change even though she deals with the consequences of her own actions in re7. she actively tries to hide her past from ethan and is mostly focused on trying to move on and have a normal life even if ethan will have to live the rest of his life in the dark.
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she loves her family so much, shes very afraid of them leaving her so she hides all the bad things in the hopes that they wont leave. its selfish, its human, its real, her character is so amazing and i love her. she doesnt learn from re7 and hides important information from ethan again. i geniunly think they should have gotten divorced after re8 if ethan had survived. its tragic and its sad but they love each other so much. it sad because they both geniunly love rose so much but they themselves shouldnt be together. its just sad to think about it. whenever i draw them it usually takes place before re7. they should have divorced on good terms and shared custody of rose.........
ethan and chris is also frustrating to think about... chris is a major jerk in re8, whenever i draw it, its under a unspoken AU that chris did not behave the way he did in re8. his weird behavior in re8 is probably for a meta reason imo. capcom wanted to set up a twist villian so they make chris very vague and unesscarily cruel. while its frustrating that they turned chris into a jerk for the sake of a twist, it still happens in canon and i will forever roll my eyes whenever i see him on screen. he did what he thought was best but imo, execution matters more than the intentions. same applies to mia. they both did things that hurt ethan because they thought it would be the best but in the end they just hurt ethan.
all the ships ive discussed with people ethan has met canonically just makes it look like i dont even like the ships... LOL ... ethan just has horrible luck with the people he meets i guess... but i do enjoy the ships and drawing them, but again all of them come with the canon baggage that ends up making me sad because everyone treats ethan poorly whether they had good intentions or not
which is why leon and ethan is the most fun to draw without getting stressed... LOL... they have never met but just drawing what i think their dynamic would be like is very fun.
please dont take this post personally, this isnt a post declaring why ur fave ship sucks, this is just my own personal preferences and in the end i draw all of them anyways
if i had to rank the ships based on drawing silly comics it would be
wintersberg
mithan
lethan
winterfield
wintersberg has the funniest potential just because of karl and mithan can be funny if u water it down to "i love my wife so much" and said wife comes home with suspicious amounts of hard cash
i enjoy making joke comics far to much
if i were to rank the ships based on how healthy they would actually be for ethan it would be
lethan
winterfield, mithan, wintersberg (no particular order)
sorry 😭
leon and ethan have literally never met but imo it would still be the healthiest because ethan gets to start new
the three other ships r all unhealthy in some way, at least canonically without changing much about the characters (i do like winterfield but just because of how chris behaved in re8 it knocked them down)
i cant even rank them on personal preference because my opinion changes so often 😭 it changes based on discussions i have with my friends or recent art i see that inspires me... me and my friends recently had a discussion about mia and ethans relationship which made me very frustrated and sad with mia so i defiently wouldnt be drawing them anytime soon... meanwhile i hvae been talking to a friend who really likes winterfield often so the conversations we have give me art ideas and i end up drawing it more. if a friend of mine really enjoyed wintersberg or lethan and talked to me about it often id probably start drawing it more, the joys of being a multishipper
it changes a lot based on how im feeling and if im in the mood to draw something funny or something serious
sorry u asked a really simple question and i responded with a essay
and a little bit about myself is that i go by crumb, i am 18 and i go by all pronouns and prefer it/its
im vietnamese and live in texas
i made this tumblr acc solely so i could post my ethan art and im a re7/re8 girly so if ur here waiting for me to draw the re1-re6 characters im sorry u should probably expect nothing
i also make personal animations sometimes which u can find here
thanks for the ask and sorry for the rant!
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princessbrunette · 4 months
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Kook!reader Mouthing off to jj and he looks up from whatever he’s doing and is like “ you better chill out or Ima tear that ass up” and her spoiled ass has never been spanked or anything so she thinks he’s bluffing and says he’s too pussy or something. So he just raises his eyebrows and 10 seconds later she’s over his knee confused, and he ends up making her cry bc she needs someone to show her who’s boss 🤭(I need this pls write it)
♛ ⋆˙₊˚⊹♡
jj always got very concentrated and serious when he worked on his bike. it required his full attention, his lips pressed in a thin line with that crease appearing between his brows as he switched out tools and wrenches at whatever he can to fix the problem he’s facing with it. he’d learnt over the years to fix it by himself, hell — he could probably take the bike apart and rebuild it with his eyes closed. it was sexy, seeing him like that— the one downside was it meant less attention for you, and for a girl so spoiled that was a nightmare.
you sit on a stool near him as he works on twisting bolts and sorting wires on an inside panel of his bike. he doesn’t mind you being there, what he does mind is your constant nagging and unnecessary chatter. if it was too much for jj, it must have been bad.
“dont know, babe. it’ll be done when it’s done.” his eyes flutter with irritation as he answers your whining for what feels like the tenth time that minute.
“y’said that last time. you know i came alllll the way to the cut to hang out with you and you’re spending’ all this time with your bike.”
“well, y’haven’t even been here an hour and i told you i’d be done soon. so quit the whining, yeah?” he warns, and he thinks he’s finally shut you up— being met with purely peace and quiet as he continues working away. that is until, you pipe up once more.
“maybe you should date the bike then. seein’ as you love it more than me.”
the tool in his hand clanks against the ground as he drops it, using the same hand to run over his face, releasing a quiet hum of frustration as he tries to gather himself. he stands, turning fully to you with a malicious grin and a tongue in his cheek. you stare, wide eyed and unbothered, feet still swinging.
“i don’t know how your mommy and daddy deal with you back on the kook side’a the island— but over here this lil’ attitude you got goin’ on ain’t gonna fly too well with me, alright? cut it out ‘fore i make you.” he’s made his way over to you, jaw tight and big eyes flickering between yours. you tilt your head, a challenge.
“like you’re gonna do anything about it.” you tease and he chuckles, shaking his head.
“alright, okay— yeah, let’s see shall we?” he asks before he’s dragging you off the stool by the arm and leading you inside.
not even five minutes later, and he’s got you folded over his lap in tears, his large hand relentlessly coming down on your sore ass cheek, each hit making you squeal.
“did i say stop countin’? ‘cos i’m pretty sure i never said that.” he tilts his head, raising his voice just a tad as you hiccup and sniffle.
“seventeen.” you sob, holding onto his thigh for dear life.
“yeah. three more. you’ll think twice next time before you pull that kook shit on me, huh?”
“m’sorry jj!” you whine and it’s met with another spank.
“yeah, i bet.”
“eighteen!”
after you’ve had all the attitude smacked out of you, the blonde cradles you on his lap, rubbing his lips together guiltily as you cling onto him. you had to learn your lesson though, so after he made sure you were okay and got you anything you needed — he headed back outside to finish up on his bike.
he left you to sulk and think about your actions, and just as he was finishing up on his bike— he hears the quiet padding of your feet approaching once more, standing as quietly as you possibly could until he looked over, giving you permission to speak.
“i’m sorry, jj.” you mewl and he throws the rag he was wiping his hands on over his shoulder, pushing himself up to stand.
“i know, babydoll— you’re good now, yeah?”
you respond by lifting up your hand unsurely, pinching a wad of cash. “what’s that?” he asks, placing his tool back into its box.
“money to get the bike fixed so you can spend more time with me.” you sniffle quietly, unsure how he’s gonna take it. he chuckles, snatching his hat off and pulling you in for a hug, his arm around the back of your neck and hand rubbing your lower back.
“i finished with the bike, you goof.” it comes out muffled as he kisses the crown of your head. “and whilst i appreciate the gesture, there’s no freakin’ way i’d let anyone touch my bike.” he pulls back, offering you a friendly smile before pressing a kiss to the tip of your snotty nose and then bringing his fingers up to pinch at it, wiping the snot away. you crinkle your nose, and he starts to walk you backwards. “c’mon, let’s go inside.”
♛ ⋆˙₊˚⊹♡
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Can you do a Clarisse x reader fic where reader snaps at Luke after he calls Clarisse the lightning thief pls? 😇 Fem reader also.
'Thunderstruck'
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Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader
A/N:Hii!Ty for requesting,lovely!I tried but it turned out rather short.But still I hope you like it!Also sorry for beint inactive I had a ton of tests.Probs gonna post more this weekend then be ia for weeks again(hopefully not)
You snap at Luke after he accuses Clarisse of being the thief,and he reveals his true nature.But unknown to you-Clarisse saw it all.
Among campers,accusations of the lightning thief circulated,asting suspicion on Clarisse La Rue-the one who 'had a motive to do it' as luke claimed.Anger swelled within you as Luke pointed fingers at her.It ended with you and him arguing in his cabin "You've got to be bullshitting!You think Clarisse is the lightning thief?" you snapped, eyes burning with frustration. "You're out of your goddamned mind,Castellan!"
Luke's eyes narrowed, his gaze gleaming with a sinister edge. "Watch your tongue.You might not want to make enemies with the wrong people," he warned, a dark undercurrent in his voice.
But you weren't one to back down. "I don't give a single fuck who believes you! Clarisse is not the thief, and you know it,you fucking liar!" The words flew from your mouth like arrows, fueled by a mix of anger and frustration.
But unbeknownst to you, Clarisse observed the heated exchange from the shadows. She saw you defending her honor, even when she wasn't present. Something stirred within her, a warmth that surpassed camaraderie.
As the argument escalated in Luke's empty cabin, his true nature unveiled itself. The revelation sent a shiver down your spine. "You're working with Kronos, aren't you?" you accused, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.
Luke's malevolence was palpable as he threatened you, his true colors unfurling like a dark banner. Refusing to be intimidated, you clenched your fists and, without a second thought, delivered a resounding punch to his face.
In the aftermath, as the echo of your punch lingered, Luke's cruel grip on your chin startled you. "Keep your mouth shut," he hissed, leaving you with a sense of vulnerability and shock.
Leaving Luke's cabin, you sought solace by the lake. The water's gentle ripples mirrored the storm within you as the storm outside continued to brew.Unbeknownst to you, Clarisse had followed,silently watching as you grappled with the turmoil of emotions.Sensing your frustration, she approached and sat next to you.
The clouds overhead darkened, and a distant rumble of thunder echoed through the air. Raindrops started to fall, gradually turning into a torrential downpour. With the rain cascading around you, you and Clarisse found yourselves drenched in water.
"Hey," she said gruffly,not even paying attention to the rain,but earning your attention,a flicker of surprise crossing your features as you looked at her. "Thanks for standing up for me back there.Means more than you know."
You managed a small smile,still surprised but as you were about to speak,but before you could utter a word, Clarisse pulled you in,by your shirt as she silenced you with a sudden but equally passionate kiss. It caught you off guard, but the intensity of the moment overwhelmed any protest that might have crossed your mind.
Clarisse released you, her gaze locking onto yours. "Don't need your words right now,just your presence,pretty girl." she asserted.Though,seemingly aware of your shock-and enjoying it,she gave a smirk and spoke again, "Don't ruin the moment with words.Just enjoy it."
As the rain intensified,the world around you blurred into a watery haze.The raindrops, echoing the heartbeat of the moment. In the midst of the storm, your lips met again, a mix of passion and a tinge of vulnerability.
A/N:I'd punch and kiss Luke at the same time but how dare u accuse my girl like that 😭
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okiedokrie · 19 days
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Epiphany // Want Me - Chapter 1
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Summary: Jeonghan is more than a little upset at Joshua at the moment. He's getting tired of waiting for him, too impatient and stubborn to realize what he has in front of him. Jeonghan takes his frustrations out by having fun. And maybe, he'll enjoy it with the company of a new friend.
Characters/Pairing(s): Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Suggestive
AUs/Trope info: Non-Idol!AU, Poly!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Word Count: 2319
Warnings: drinking, cussing, descriptions of non-sexual nudity
Rating: 18+
A/N: banners by @kwanisms
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Loud bar music beats in sync with Jeonghan's heart, shockwaves coursing through his body, and the vibrations calm him down. 
It's been exactly 56 hours since that conversation with Joshua by the window, and he's still a little pressed over the fact that Joshua is taking a bit too long to catch up with him. In their 10 years of friendship, many things have changed already. Like the way Joshua dresses, how comfortable they are with controversial jokes, or the way Joshua got beefy over the pandemic for seemingly no reason?
But god, those pecs are immaculate. Jeonghan thought, this wouldn't be the first time he thought of Joshua this way. 
It was a little dubious, wanting someone who's convinced they don't want you in the same way, but ever since that conversation, Joshua has never looked at Jeonghan the same.
It was like an Epiphany smacked him in the face.
Jeonghan isn't complaining though- okay, maybe a little. He's complaining about how long it's taking Joshua to take a hint. Especially when he's trying to set him up with what he believes to be the love of his life.
Apart from Joshua, of course.
A hand wraps around Jeonghan's arm, sliding into the barstool next to him. “Hey Jeonghoney!” She said, placing a kiss on his cheek, a grin spreading across her face in an impish manner.
“Shuji couldn't make it today?” She asked, already having a nickname for a guy she hadn't even met yet, but it was fine, she was always the comfortable type.
“No, doll. He's way too in his head about his feelings and I want him to ride it out on his own, he desperately needs it.” He said, taking another swig of his drink before setting the empty glass down and calling for the bartender. 
Signaling another of his drinks and a new one for his new company, Jeonghan rolled his shoulders in frustration before turning to the woman next to him, her eyes watching his every move attentively, the dim red lights of the bar making her look devilish. 
She is kind of the devil, though, at least to Jeonghan's loins.
“Aw, that's too bad.” She said with a pout, “At least we're here now, let's dance after this drink. What about it, Jeonghoney?” She grinned after.
Jeonghan grinned a boyish grin after this, he always loved that she was always down for whatever, making the most out of any situation. Maybe that's why they clicked during Seungcheol's birthday party.
“Yeah, I'd love that.”
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The bar had a more laid-back atmosphere than most nightclubs, which Jeonghan appreciated given that the club crowd was never really his. But still, the dance floor was high on energy and hot. Everything felt too hot and sticky for him to fully get his head into it, especially not with Joshua's existential crisis being in the back of his mind.
He felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling his body closer to hers as they set a more relaxed pace to the song. She leaned in, kind of shouting over the music to speak to him, “You're in your mind again Jeonghoney, care to share your thoughts?” She said, leading the sway of their bodies to the music.
Jeonghan only shook his head, holding her hips in his palms to swing to the beat more intensely. “Nothing you should worry your pretty little head about, doll. At least, not in the middle of a bar.” He tried to joke, a dry chuckle leaving his throat. 
She huffs, agitation bubbling, “Then why are you thinking about it, hm? In the middle of the bar no less?”
Jeonghan just chortled at this, he kind of played himself there. She may be bubbly and easy-going but that doesn't mean she's anywhere to being stupid. She's a very intelligent woman if she wants to be.
He leans down to kiss the wrinkle on her forehead, effectively smoothing the furrow of her brows, “My bad doll, I'll just focus on you, then.” He said, turning his head to place a kiss on the side of her head, humming at the scent of her perfume. 
She giggled, pulling him close to her as they swayed, the song slowing down. They both turn their heads to rest on each other's foreheads, Jeonghan's hands resting on her hips with no pressure of leading their swaying, only enjoying the warmth of her presence. 
Jeonghan believes this is bliss, to have someone who wants him as much as they want them. It might be wishful thinking on his part, but he hoped that one day Joshua would catch up with him.
It was obvious how Joshua acted around him, but he needed Joshua to tell him explicitly. Joshua needed to come to that realization in his own time.
Jeonghan waited for over a decade now, what's the harm in more waiting?
She leans in, their lips brushing but never kissing,  they haven't kissed, not on the lips yet, but Jeonghan is guilty of wanting to go further with her, carefully considering his options of just asking her directly to let her set the pace.
He decides he's a really patient guy, he's always waiting, isn't he?
Jeonghan came to the realization that he wasn't monogamous a long time ago, he had a lot of time to think about what that meant and to let go of the social stigma that was instilled into him at a young age. He thought he was wrong, for wanting more than one person to love. He thought his integrity and loyalty didn't exist because he couldn't just commit to one person.
But then again, his heart was just too big for one.
Jeonghan pulled away from her face to lean down and press his face into the crook of her neck, opting to press feather-light kisses to the skin, his hair tickling her cheek.
His hands roamed her midriff, still at a respectful pressure and manner. He just wants to feel her close, having no sexual intentions. He hums in contentment, peace in his mind as he shares this intimate moment with her.
Breathing in her scent made calm wash over Jeonghan in gentle waves, almost making him forget the recent turmoils of his and Joshua's relationship. 
The key word is almost.
Much like every day after he met Joshua at 18 years old, he managed to make a place for himself in the back of Jeonghan's mind, never leaving no matter how hard Jeonghan tried to push him further back.
Can you blame Jeonghan though? A beautiful soul like that only comes once in a lifetime, there wasn't a day when Jeonghan could ever think that Joshua could be anything other than beautiful.
Not that he had to try hard, Joshua's merits spoke for themselves. His mindset, devotion, loyalty, and comforting aura. Everything about him. Even everything that he was insecure about, Jeonghan found beautiful. 
Oh, being in love with your best friend hurts.
Maybe one day he’ll get over the monumental obstacle that was his feelings for Joshua. He felt really guilty for them most days, too. He couldn’t fully commit to being Joshua’s friend because of his feelings. He felt bad for essentially lying to him, for over a decade, even. 
Jeonghan doesn’t want to be just his best friend, he never did. And that’s what bothered Jeonghan the most.
She pulls him out of his own thoughts. Running her fingers over his hair to look him in the eyes, still a little unfocused on the current moment. She should be offended, he was the one who invited her out to dance but he couldn’t even be present enough to be here.
But, of course, she isn’t. You see, Jeonghan had a type. The type to forgive over and over again. You and Joshua, basically. 
He's only been in love twice in his lifetime, you and Joshua, basically. 
Jeonghan finally snaps out of his own thoughts just as the song ends, pulling away from her, taking her hands in his to lead her back to the bar. “I really need a drink, sorry for ruining your fun doll.” He said, his voice a little dry.
“It's fine Jeonghoney, you need this more than I do. He'll come around, I'm sure of it.”
Oh, just how sweet can you get? Jeonghan thought, your saccharine smile sticking to his mind like thick honey, golden ambrosia poisoning his mortal consciousness. 
Being in love is addictive, and Jeonghan is only a man. Maybe his pining for his best friend would be the sun he flies too close to, hubris is his greatest sin, after all.
He leans over to press another kiss to her shoulder, “You're too kind to me, doll. It's only been a few days, but would it be too soon to call you a blessing?” He jokes, trying to lighten the situation by buttering her up, like usual.
She giggles, much like at Seungcheol's party, but this time instead of curiosity toward a handsome stranger, it's adorable for a close companion. 
Jeonghan and Y/n haven't known each other for long, but to a romantic, you know your soulmate as soon as you meet them.
It was easy for them, Jeonghan didn't have to skirt around the idea of something more with her. He didn't have to wait for her to get on the same page as him, minds in the same wavelength as soon as they locked eyes. Both Y/n and Jeonghan are romantics, so of course they're in love.
But Jeonghan still yearns for his best friend.
The one who stood by him for over a decade now, the only one who Jeonghan could share all his secrets, the one who knew Jeonghan better than he did, but somehow did not know anything at all.
Jeonghan only wished that in another universe, Joshua was just as much of a romantic as he is, maybe then he'll finally be able to tell him that he loves him in the way that Jeonghan wanted to.
One more drink before they go home. Jeonghan thought.
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Taking her home for the first time felt a little intimidating to Jeonghan, especially since the conversation they had before leaving. 
If we're going to take this relationship seriously, you need to trust me Jeonghan, trust us. I love you, truly, I want us.
She's right, of course, one look at the both of them and you'd know just how in love they were.
They make their way through the threshold of Jeonghan and Joshua's shared apartment, carefully entering Jeonghan's room. Joshua hasn't been in their apartment the whole night, choosing to spend his time with high-school friends that took the time to visit him from across the world.
It might be the best for him, a distraction from the difficult situation he found himself in.
Jeonghan helps her with her night routine, his hands are a little clumsy from all the drinking they'd done, yet Jeonghan takes great care in unzipping the back of her dress.
He kisses the new skin exposed to him, her back turned to him as she frees her hair from her up-do and she starts to pick bobby pins out. Jeonghan takes this opportunity to massage her scalp, trying to press out the tension from being up for so long.
After helping her undress, Jeonghan starts to strip lazily too, taking his time to get used to the nip of the cold air nipping at his skin, before joining her in the bathroom, he fishes out some towels as she sets the water to whatever temperature was comfortable for her.
She gets in the shower, letting the water soak into her hair and skin, fogging up the glass of the shower and the mirror. Jeonghan followed after her, hia body also getting soaked by the water as he was reaching for the shampoo and letting it lather on his palms, before gently massaging her scalp again, carefully scratching it to clean.
She sighed, the physical intimacy comforting her, it was odd for most people, to be this comfortable being naked and showering with someone they knew for less than a week. But Jeonghan just felt like someone she'd spend the rest of her life with, it was odd, to fall this quickly, but it was right, this felt right. 
Jeonghan feels the same way too, most men wouldn't know what to do with themselves when in the vicinity of a gorgeous woman, but to Jeonghan,  just her presence was enough. Sure, it'd be nice if there was something more, but just this was enough, love overpowering any carnal desire for her skin.
He just wants her close, so after helping her with shampoo, he hugs her from behind, warm skin pressing against warm skin, pressing small kisses to her wet neck. She giggles, Jeonghan's soft lips tickling her, leaning back against him, she sighs again, she loves this type of intimacy. Both of them were too drunk and tired to do anything over than finish up preparing for bed, so instead they just held each other close, enjoying the moment of silence, only being broken by the steady patter of the shower.
They both finish their shower and skincare before getting dressed, Y/n in one of Jeonghan's shirts and a pair of his boxers, and Jeonghan in much of the same uniform. 
They take turns drying each other's hair, Jeonghan's expensive and fancy blowdryer doing the job perfectly. Now, after a relaxing shower and a few more kisses, they're ready for bed.
Jeonghan shuffles under the covers with her, immediately turning over to pull her close, his heartbeat under her ear as he steadies his breathing again. She looked beautiful, a calm washing over her in the safety of Jeonghan's arms, pressing more kisses into each other's faces as they fell into an easy slumber.
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justkending · 8 days
Text
Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 6/7)
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Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)
Word Count: 3300+
A/N: I have only read through this once, but I plan on revising it this afternoon, so please excuse any mistakes! The next chapter will be the last, and I'm so glad you guys have enjoyed it up to this point :) You all are the best! (Also, I tried fixing as many of the tags as I could, but if it's still acting weird, please message me or send an ask!)
_________
Chapter 6:
“Shit, you have a mean right hook, but you kinda have to hit the target for it to have the impact you want!” I pant as I move just seconds before Bethanne makes contact with the wall behind me. “You learn that in pilates? Maybe I should take it up.” 
Reggie let out a frustrated grunt from the room over where Bucky was now ducking and weaving out of angry, calculated swings. 
In assessing my opponent's fighting patterns, I sense Bethanne going in for another swing. Grabbing the picture frame off the wall, I bash it into her head, where she teeters and falls back, discombobulated enough for me to move to help Bucky.
“I should have known better than to trust you two,” Reggie grunts as he gets a slight jump on Bucky, shouldering him and taking him to the ground. “Especially you’re bitch of a fake wife-”
I go to handle the comment for myself and help Bucky, but something about the slur triggers Bucky to handle the situation on his own, and the next thing I know, he’s now on top of Reggie and twisting his arms in a way that causes a wale in pain to follow. 
“That’s not how you speak about a lady,” he grits through his teeth and winds back to swing. 
At the same moment, with my attention elsewhere, Bethanne comes from behind me with a piece of glass from the picture frame -that didn’t do the job I’d hoped- and slices deeply in the back of my arm, getting a scream and hiss from me. 
She’s seething when I turn around, her own hand dripping blood on their pristine white carpet from the clamp she has on it, ready to give another slash when the opportunity presents itself. 
I hear Bucky shout my name, distracted by my injury, and then catch a glimpse of the tussle that breaks back out between the two men. One problem at a time. 
Holding the back of my arm, feeling the blood leave my body faster than I expected, I twist my head to the side at the blonde. I learned the intimidation tactic from Wanda, and when I say it works, it works…
Bethanne’s crass smile falls, and she is smart enough to take a few steps back. 
“I’m not a gentleman, so I won’t hold my tongue, bitch,” I add emphasis on the name and start walking to her with my head down and eyes glaring at her. Instantly, she turns on her heel and runs to another room, where I pick up my speed and follow her. 
I get my foot in between the doorframe before she has the chance to shut it, and dear God, I wish I had my Doc Martens right now to kick the damn thing down. I shove my shoulder into it, and she stumbles back for a lamp in the bedroom we were in now. 
Not well calculated, she throws a small one, and I dodge it as it slams into the door behind me. 
“Come on, Bethanne. All those sole cycles and bare classes, and you don’t want to see if those muscles work? Throw a hit like a woman. Let’s make this more interesting,” I move to a fighting stance and ignore the sting on my arm, knowing I have fleeting moments of adrenaline before the blood loss catches up. 
“You’re just mad you got caught,” she spits out, and I mean literally spits out. The saliva would have hit my foot if she wasn’t such a sissy. “You think we didn’t catch on from the second bug you destroyed? Pretty fucking obvious if you ask me.” 
I could hear more pieces of furniture breaking off in the other room and realized that maybe this chit-chat needed to end. 
“Sure. Let’s go with you guys figuring it out sooner. If that makes you feel better about all this,” I shrug, rolling my eyes and stepping in to move this party along. 
____________
The night before. Bucky’s POV:
Due to the wire in the bathroom, which neither Y/N nor I wanted to deal with, I had to shift my nighttime bathroom routine to the master’s. 
Like any normal master bath, there were two sinks, and I stationed myself at the one Y/N hadn’t. For the first time since coming to this place, we actually felt like a couple as we both got situated on our side of the counter and started doing our nightly regime. 
“How intense of a wire do you think it is?” she asked quietly after washing her face and dapping the water off her skin with a clean towel. 
The doors to the bathroom and her room were both closed, creating a barrier to the others. 
“I think we’re safe to talk in here,” I answered, rinsing my toothbrush I’d just used and throwing it into the travel bag I had. 
“Ok, so I can ask freely, how much longer do you think this mission is going to take?” she sighs, opening the cabinet in front of her, taking out three cosmetic vials, and putting them in a practiced order in front of her. 
“Huh?” I let slip, and she turned to me with furrowed eyebrows. 
“Huh, what?” 
I shake out of my disbelief and look at her clean and noticeably smooth face. A subtle scar next to her eyebrow being the only form of imperfection by societal rules, but I wouldn’t call it that. 
“I didn’t think you were a,” I paused, not sure what to call what I was seeing. I just saw her as someone who would splash some water on her face at the night's end and call it a day. Then again, I didn’t know enough about face creams and serums I’ve seen Nat and Wanda use. 
“A clean person?” she finishes my sentence with a harsh laugh as she brings out a spray bottle with a maroon liquid in it from another cabinet, spritz her face three times and pats it in with her hand. 
“Don’t think that’s the word I was looking for,” I shake my head, running a hand through my hair and fidgeting as I feel her gaze shift to me. 
“Not a face washer and 20 ageless serums kind of guy?” she hums, rubbing a green goop in her hands before all over your face. “Well, not all of us are aging at the rate of paint drying. Some of us have to put in effort to look this good.” 
I smirk at that because I don’t think she realizes what she just said. 
“You say I’m effortlessly handsome?” I grin, turning and resting my back on the counter as I watch her. 
She can’t seem to help her own smile and bites her lip as she fans her face, grabbing another small dropper bottle. 
“You know what? Don’t even try and pretend you don’t know you’re a pretty face,” she blushes and tries to backtrack. “God. Can you believe the difference this conversation would have been just two hours ago? And now I’m here calling you pretty.” 
“I’m not complaining.” The grin on my face hurts with how authentic it is. “And if it makes you feel any better, I think Reggie would steal you away as his wife if I weren’t already attached to you.” 
“Ah, yes. The testosterone battle that took place tonight. Glad you brought that up,” she nods, placing the finished bottles back in the cabinet and adding the last serum to her face. Her skin had a nice glow after the magic treatments. “I knew men lay their claim, but you seemed more intense than I’d imagined you’d be about that kind of stuff.”
“He was undressing you with his eyes,” I said sternly, compared to the easy-going tone we had stuck to. “He needed to be set straight acting like that.” My arms crossed as I watched her unbothered by the conversation piece.
“And you, acting like a lion ready to bite the head off of him while trying to get on their good side, was the way to counter that behavior?” 
“I wasn’t that intimidating.”
“You’re James Buchanan Barnes. You don’t have to put on an act to be intimidating. Therefore, when you put on any protective act, the intimidation act just multiplies.” She deadpans to me. 
Ok, maybe she was right… I was a little more invasive into her space this evening, but it was to prove a point. 
“I was doing my job,” I shrug, stepping closer, picking up her skincare bottle, and examining it. 
“You played the annoyed and jealous husband very well. I’ll make sure your nomination for a Tony Award is submitted.” 
I shake my head, handing her the bottle she places precisely in the cabinet. 
“Are you a neat freak?” I ask, and she turns to me, pulling her hair out of the ponytail she had put in to wash her face. 
“I’m not anal if that’s what you think? I prefer things to be organized where it’s helpful.” 
“I’m pretty sure that’s what a neat freak would say…”
“Says the man who organized the spices alphabetically and sorts the coffee pods by color.” She tidies her space, wiping any water with a washcloth, and turns out of the room, flipping the light switch with me still in there. 
“When you’re cooking, it makes things easier to find. That’s just common sense. And the color thing? Well, it’s aesthetically pleasing,” I debate, following her on her heel. 
“Sure thing, neat freak…” she laughs, going to her side of the bed and getting her nightstand prepared for the night. 
I watch her, and she doesn’t seem to mind as I silently catalog her ritual. When she finally gets things settled and looks at me, waiting for a reason for why I’m still in her room, I stumble over my words. 
“You’re question earlier.” Considering the life mic in the room across the hall, I have to be careful in choosing my words. “Maybe this suburban life isn’t as bad as we thought it was. It is a nice break from our former day-to-day.”
She nods, pulling back the covers of her bed and rubs lotion from her bedside into her palms. 
“There are some aspects I’ve come to like,” she smiles genuinely. 
“Agreed.”
____________
Present Time
In seconds, Bethanne was unconscious and lying on the ground with a curtain cord binding her on the ground. She’d be occupied enough for me to help Bucky restrain his opponent and come back to move her after. 
I held the back of my arm, which was still oozing blood. The dizziness was slowly creeping up on me, but I tapped into the reserve of adrenaline to assess the chaos in front of me. 
Lucky for Bucky, he was holding his own well enough even if his opponent was double his size (but are we shocked? No.), so I moved to the kitchen for a weapon, considering we didn’t have time to prepare before this fight broke out. 
For context, this all started with me coming over here to meet Bethanne for a yoga class she had invited me to this morning. Bucky just happened to be heading home earlier from "work," given that he actually had nothing to do.
Lucky for me because Bethanne had used the excuse of yoga to corner me, and Reggie happened to be home to help, too.
I had played into their casualness to start, feeling the energy off and their disposition askew, and tried to stall for a while, knowing it would be a better fight with my partner nearby. I texted Bucky to meet me at their place with an excuse, and by the time he got there (5 minutes later), the fight broke out, and all curtains were pulled back to reveal the truth.
“Barnes!” I shout, and his head pops up from his position, trying to disengage Reggie. I throw the knife I got a hold of from across the room, and he spins, turning the giant perfectly to where the knife embeds itself in the front of his thigh. 
A yell in pain sounds, and Bucky turns to hold his head in a lock that eventually makes Reggie pass out. 
Silence takes over the space. The only sound is our panting as he looks at the damage and sees the end of our mission come to a close. Whether intentional or not…
“So, that was fun. Glad we got some cardio in,” I huff, pulling my arm closer to my body and putting pressure on the cut. 
“Jesus fuck,” Bucky runs a hand through his hair and walks to me. “Where’d she get you?” 
His hands are gentle and light compared to how he’d been using them the last few minutes. He turns me to the side, using my shoulder as leverage, and bends to look at the gash on my arm right above the back of my elbow. I had been wearing a dry-fit running jacket that clung to me, so the damage wasn’t 100% visible, I’m sure, but the hiss he lets out when he sees it leads me to believe otherwise. 
“How’s it look, Doc?” I ask and wince with a sharp breath when he pokes at it. “Dude. Jagged glass cut. Careful.” 
“Just moved the fabric,” he grumbles, still examining it. In front of us, Reggie groans. We both look at him. 
“We can play operation in a minute. Let’s tie the big guy up, and you can help me get Raggedy Bethanne from the other room in here to interrogate,” I push past his shoulder as I move to get Reggie situated. 
Begrudgingly, Bucky helped me move the sleeping giant and we shut all the blinds and set the space for a controlled interrogation. 
Currently, Bucky is on the phone with Steve, letting him know the plan went awry. We were working on getting information while we waited for a team to come collect the two perpetrators. Steve confirmed he’d send undercover agents as cops for us to wrap up the loose ends. 
In the middle of the call, someone knocks on the door, and we share a look. I’m still covered in blood, but I find a painter's poncho on the side, throw it on quickly, and grab a used paintbrush in the convenient tray next to it. 
“One second!” I shout, making a few marks on the poncho and one on my face for show. I go to open the door, praying I don’t have any blood on my face, but I did well in keeping away from Bethanne’s pathetic attempts of retaliation. 
When I open the door, I see their next-door neighbor, Mrs. Nosy-Nancy Betrum, smiling wearily in front of me. 
“Oh, hello, Charlotte,” she says nervously, trying to peer into the house around me. “Is Bethanne in there?” 
“Oh,” I perk up casually, turning behind me for a second and looking back at her. “She just ran to the bathroom. Is everything ok?”
“I just heard some shouting and crashing and wasn’t sure what was going on,” she started, still trying to peak into the background that I’m mostly hiding, so I moved a little to show the not-as-destroyed part of the house. 
“Oh, she’s doing a kitchen renovation and asked if we could help since we have some experience ourselves. The boys are hauling and dismantling some things. Lots of grunting and noise, I’m afraid,” I cringe lightly to play into the apologetic side of the conversation. “I’ll let her know we’re being too loud.” 
“Oh, ok,” she nodded, seemingly convinced but still glancing in. 
“Char, can you come help me and Reggie with this?” Bucky shouts, and I turn to look at him as he gives me an out. 
“Sorry about the noise, Nancy. We’ll try to be considerate about it. One sec, honey!” I nod back. “See you for Wednesday book club at Katrina’s next week.” I give an award-winning smile, and that seems to seal the deal. 
“Let me know how the finished project comes out,” she waves, walking down the steps.
After I shut the door, I groan as the pain in the back of my arm throbs more and more. 
“I’ll get Beth,” Bucky stands up from where he has successfully tied up Reggie and anchored him to a chair. “You go find a clean cloth and put some pressure on that,” he points out my arm that’s smearing red into the white paint I had tried to hide it with. 
“Good plan,” I nod, hissing as I move to the kitchen to make a makeshift tourniquet. 
_____________
The mission was done. I could sleep in my own bed now. My arm hurt like hell, and I was dreading the unfortunate aftercare and restrictions to come, but the mission was done, and I was headed home. 
After we got Bethanne and Reginald situated, the interrogation started, and they squealed like pigs. Well, Bethanne did, but Reggie didn’t hold out like he thought he would after some convincing with Bucky’s form of torture. Restrained if you ask me…
We had a list of other names to hunt and find. We found solid evidence in their home to prove most of it. Steve and Nat were given puzzle pieces that we had come for originally, so we were on the right path of taking down the organization Fury had been hunting.  
Things worked out for the better, even with the fact that they had successfully hidden a bug, and we were discovered. But there was a reason Bucky and I were picked for this, and we proved that. 
“What’s the diagnosis?” Bucky asked, coming into the med-bay I had been stationed in for the last hour on the Quinjet home. 
“I won’t need a robotic arm, unfortunately. I’ll have to wait a little longer before I can join your one-man club,” I sigh depressingly before I quirk a smile at him. 
“Wouldn’t be a one-man club if you joined it, now would it?” he laughed, sitting on the bed next to me where the nurse finished the stitches and wrapped a clean gauze bandage around it. 
“Thank you.” I nodded her way as she grabbed her things and walked out quietly. 
“Gonna be a minute before you back out in the ring, huh?” he asked, bumping my shoulder. “Sam hasn’t been proving to be the best dueling partner. Maybe since you won’t try to kill me now, you can take up the title? I feel like you’d be a decent match.” 
I turn to him after picking at my bandage and eye him. “Who says I wouldn’t try to kill you still? What’s the good of training if you’re not practicing the real thing?” 
He rolls his eyes and spreads his legs a little more, causing his knee to bump into mine.
“I don’t think you’ll be up for the killing portion of our fights for a bit, so I’ll take the advantage as long as possible.” 
“You think a little scratch like this has held me back from killing before?” He laughed under his breath, and we sat in comfortable silence for a minute. “The team isn’t going to believe I no longer have a vendetta against you,” I whisper. “They’re going to think we’re putting on an act.”
Bucky’s POV:
“I, for one, prefer the nicety over the insults, but that’s me personally,” I say, noticing the nerves in her comment. 
“I’m going to miss insulting you,” she sighs heavily, and I’m shocked at her closing in the space enough for our shoulders to touch. “I don’t have to give it up fully, do I?” 
I take her attempt of trying to lighten the mood and nod. 
“Considering the team is going to give us hell for it, and Steve has a bet we’ll make up in 3-weeks-”
“Wait, make up? I thought the bet was how long until we bite each other’s heads off.” 
“Nat’s bet is. She gave it until tomorrow actually. Steve was rooting for us I guess,” I shrug. 
“Hmmm,” she nods her head as she thinks things through. I’ve seen that look many times. “What if we messed with them?” 
“Channel our energy into keeping the charade going a little longer so neither wins?” 
“You really shouldn’t be betting on your friends,” she grins mischievously. 
“I’m always down for winning a second time this week,” I smile back.
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clockwork-ashes · 2 months
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All You Have Is Your Fire - Part IX
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Find Part I here :)
Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.
Note: A huge, huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who literally deserves all the credit and whose post inspired me to start writing this. I could not stop thinking about this headcanon, and it was so kind of you to let me try and make a story from it :)
And a HUGE thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3
Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 /
Part X >>
Lucien walked beside Elain as he continued to lead them towards the loveliest library in the Forest House. She was so unusually close that the stone hallway felt too small, the walls closing in around him. If he wished, he could have brushed the fingers of his hand against her knuckles. 
Lucien tried not to glance at his mate, but failed rather miserably. He could see Elain’s pretty brown eyes taking in her surroundings carefully, trying to track where they were going. Lucien knew from experience that it would take Elain and Cora both some time before the two females grew accustomed to the sprawling complex, a city in its own right. 
Cora walked silently on the stones just a bit behind them and Lucien wondered briefly what kind of shoes she was hiding beneath her long skirts. Her steps were noiseless, like she was floating, almost as though Lucien and Elain were alone. 
Perhaps involuntarily, Elain moved even closer to him. Lucien nearly offered her his arm, but thought better of it. He did not think she would appreciate it, but Lucien could still feel the phantom grip of her hand on his own as they had been escorted to their shared suite the night before. 
Thoughtlessly, Lucien had left her alone when he had woken up, and while he was sure Eris had slightly exaggerated Elain’s words, he knew that Elain did not like the fact that he had declined to tell her where he planned to go.  
Through their bond, Lucien could feel her frustration with him over it, a slow thrum over that bridge between two souls. It had come as a shock to Lucien when Elain had agreed to go to the library, even with her lady’s maid joining. 
Elain was clearly uneasy with their current predicament, and Lucien could not even blame her. 
“The Autumn Court is lovely,” Elain politely offered in the quiet. She did not look towards him, keeping her gaze steady and ahead.
Lucien nodded in response. The court he had been raised in was genuinely beautiful, stunning, especially for someone who had never visited before. Lucien did not mention how cruel of a place it could be. “I always thought so.” 
Lucien said nothing more, unsure if Elain was truly looking for a conversation to start between them, or if she simply wanted the awkward silence that had befallen to end. 
Lucien ran a hand through his hair, the gesture a nervous habit. He caught as Elain seemingly stopped breathing, her heartbeat racing. 
With a furrowed brow, Lucien looked at her, hesitating to ask if she was alright. 
Much to Lucien’s relief, Cora spoke before he did. With hurried steps, she caught up to Elain, hardly worried. “Forgive me, but if I might speak out of turn,” her voice carried in the hall, her accent thick with the rhythm of the Hewn City. 
“That’s nonsense,” Elain mumbled, her shoulders relaxing. 
Lucien felt his lips turn up, the smallest of smiles at how Elain did not even consider that Cora was technically working for the Night Court. He could hear the way Cora’s tone changed immediately, suddenly more comfortable. 
“How does anyone manage to get around this place?” She made a careless gesture with her hand, the golden thread along her sleeve flashing. “All of it looks the same,” she addressed him with a dark brow raised. 
Lucien noticed for the first time how lovely she was, his focus almost always having been entirely on Elain since the moment he had seen his mate in his father’s throne room. Cora’s jaw was sharp, her lips full, an elegant bump just on the bridge of her nose. Her dark brows framed even darker eyes, a blush staining her high cheekbones when Lucien faced her fully.   
“You get used to it,” he responded warmly. “It takes some time, but I’m sure you’ll find your way around easily enough by the week’s end.” 
“Callum Vanserra escorted me to the servant’s quarters yesterday.” Cora tucked a long strand of hair behind her pointed ear. Lucien took note of how she did not add a title to his brother’s name and he liked her boldness, her blatant disregard for another court’s prince. “I think he led me past the library, but I can’t tell if we even walked by here,” she added with a nervous laugh. 
Lucien offered Cora a genuine smile. “Remind me, then, to take you to your room before Elain and I return to ours.” 
“Callum is your older brother?” Elain’s question caught Lucien by surprise, a knowing smile flashed along Cora’s lips as the other female turned away from him. 
Elain cleared her throat awkwardly, as if asking the question had caught her by surprise as well. Lucien could feel a small burst of possessiveness flashing along the bond, the way Elain urged him to pay attention to her with a tug on that invisible string.  
Jealousy. 
“Callum is third-born, practically ancient.” Lucien looked to see how Elain would react. Her eyes were wide with curiosity, the weight of her full regard too heavy for him. An amazing actress, she hid her emotions so well, Lucien thought. He faced away from Elain once more. “He was a child during the first war, and was raised in Xian, by my maternal grandmother.” 
Elain nodded along, interest lining her expression. Lucien could see her from the corner of his eye and decided that was much better, her beauty easier to bear. Like looking straight at the sun, painful and yet the desire was there. 
“Will you tell me about the others?” Elain asked, looking up at him, her steps in time with his own. 
Lucien shrugged, he hated all his brothers in equal measure. “There’s not much to tell.” He felt another pull on the bond and could not help facing his mate.
“I should probably know more about your family,” he watched as a scarlet blush bloomed on Elain’s pale cheeks. “We are getting married, after all.” 
A genuine laugh spilled from Lucien’s lips at her tone. “I suppose you’re right.”
“It happens on occasion,” she clipped, her blush deepening in colour. 
Lucien tore his gaze from Elain for a moment to flash Cora a concerned look, wondering whether he should speak in front of the other female about his brothers. His golden eye whirred. 
“I won’t repeat a word of this to anyone,” Cora rushed to reassure him, noticing the way Lucien glanced at her. “My lips are completely sealed.” 
Lucien ran his hand through his hair, sighing. He decided it hardly mattered what Elain’s lady’s maid knew in regards to his family. He turned his attention back to Elain, only to find her looking at him intently. “You haven’t met Felix, but he’s only a few years older than me.”
“You were close with him.” Elain’s statement suggested that was the only logical conclusion in her mind. 
“Not at all,” Lucien scoffed. “He only ever looks out for himself, silver-tongued, a perfect emissary. Felix can convince the most stubborn of nobles to see his point of view, sway their opinions in his favour.” 
Elain hummed in understanding, but Lucien still did not think she could completely grasp the twisted relationship he had with his brothers. 
“Felix is on good terms with Ronan, I think.” Lucien could never be too sure where the loyalty of each Autumn prince lay, or how quickly they might turn on one another if the right circumstances were to arise. “Ronan works closely with my father, his flames strong enough to make him a worthy contender for the crown.” He frowned as Elain silently coaxed him to go on with only her eyes. “Like I said, there’s not much to tell.” 
Lucien continued walking, the library’s carved wooden doors only a few steps away. He did not need to raise his hand to open them, despite how heavy they were, glad that they were still unlocked and open to anyone who wished to enter.
“And Eris?” Elain asked, her brows raised. Surely she had heard about his eldest brother’s reputation, Lucien thought, but he was the only one of his brother’s Elain had truly interacted with. It made sense that Elain would want to know more.  
Lucien almost stopped in his tracks as he considered her question. “Eris is…” 
A snake. 
The male who raised me. 
My favourite brother. 
“Eris is Eris,” he said with a shrug, the gesture and his statement so ridiculous he winced. With his eldest brother, everything was achingly more complicated. “The best and worst of Autumn, sure to be my father’s heir.” 
“When you scowl, you look like him.” Elain’s statement was a throwaway, hardly considered, but Lucien frowned. He slowed his steps so that she could walk past him and into the library, Cora still at her side. 
Lucien followed after them just in time to catch Elain marvelling at the sight before her. 
There were countless towering shelves pushed against the walls and in neat rows all around the large room. The golden spines of some of the rarer books glimmered in the light of the torches, all of them carefully spelled by librarians and priestesses against catching alight. Lucien knew that these were some of the only books in all of Prythian that remained untouched after Amarantha’s reign, and he felt a strange sense of pride for it. 
In the middle of the library, between a pair of shelves, stood the remains of a hollowed tree. The leafless branches seemed to hold up the ceiling, the gnarled trunk shaped in a way that resembled a fireplace. Thick roots created nooks near the trunk, perfect for private reading, before they disappeared like waves on a beach beneath the stone of the floor.  
Lucien waved his hand and flames came to life in the emptied space of the ancient maple. 
Wonder shone bright as sunlight in Elain’s eyes as she turned to Lucien, all sincerity. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she breathed. 
Lucien smiled at the sight, the way her walls had come down. “Some say that this library rivals even the ones in the Day Court.”  
“I can imagine how that might be the case,” Elain shyly smiled, shaking her head as she walked deeper into the room. 
Lucien watched as Elain reached out, careful fingers tracing the leather bound books on the shelf nearest to her. Brown eyes skimmed the titles of each one, she bit her lower lip as she went on the tips of her toes, peeking at some of the scrolls on a higher row. 
Lucien felt like he was intruding. 
He tried to turn his attention to Cora, but the Night Court female had silently scurried away, leaving Lucien and Elain alone. Lucien decided that Cora was perhaps a meddlesome busybody before he simply followed Elain further into the library. 
Elain pulled a scarlet book off the shelf, the pages yellowed with the passage of time. Lucien raised both his brows as he stood behind her, as he read the looping script on the cover. 
A Complete History of Autumn’s Blood Duels. 
“Looking for some light reading?” 
Elain did not look at Lucien as she flipped through the book, lifting her shoulders in an elegant shrug. “I’ve heard the term once, just curious.” 
“It’s probably full of some very gruesome details,” he warmed. A memory flashed in Lucien’s mind, one from his childhood. He had stolen a similar tome off Callum’s nightstand as a boy, and had had to sleep on the armchair in Eris’s room for days as a result. 
“I’m sure I can handle it.” 
Lucien recognized that there was a bite to Elain’s words, as though she was not simply speaking about the book in her hands. It was a hidden anger, a crack in her ever so carefully crafted mask. All her pleasant smiles, all her words dripping with honeyed falsehoods were no longer directed at Lucien, and he was surprised to realise that he was glad for it. 
“Of that, I have no doubt,” Lucien offered quietly, hoping Elain understood the full meaning behind his response.
Elain’s head snapped up quickly as she turned to look up at him, their eyes locking. The full force of the mating bond was a knife to his chest as her scent washed over him, sweet like blooming jasmine. 
Lucien wondered if Elain felt the same overwhelming pull as her eyes darkened a shade, as she leaned closer only to breathe in deeply. 
Their hearts were beating steadily in a matching rhythm, and Lucien forced himself to take a step back. 
Like a curse shattering, Elain whirled on her heel faerie-quick, holding the book tightly against her chest. 
As though nothing had occurred, Elain went back to focusing solely on the books on the shelves in front of her. Lucien watched her for a moment, before he too turned his attention to a different shelf. 
With a weary sigh, Lucien concluded that if he and Elain could survive their time in Autumn, he would suffer the most torturous two weeks of his immortal life.
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sissylittlefeather · 2 months
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Your Love's Been a Long Time Coming: Chapter 2
A/N: Second installment of the Elvis x OC Vivian Choquette series! We pick up in 1961 during the filming of Blue Hawaii. I really hope you all stay on board for this one. I have the next 4ish chapters planned out and there's some fun stuff coming...
Need to catch up? Here's my Masterlist.
As always, thank you for your help and encouragement, bestie @ccab!
Warnings: Still pretty tame, kissing, cussing, alcohol use, references to sex/oral sex, fist fighting
Word count: ~2k
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"Hello again..."
******
"Hi..."
"Oh, you two know each other?"
"Yeah we met in..."
"Germany." She finishes the sentence for him because he doesn't seem to be capable of it. He's still in awe of her. She hasn't changed much since the last time he saw her and he's still spellbound.
"Good. That should make this easy then." The director turns away from the conversation and leaves them to get reacquainted.
"I-I I didn't know you were an actress?" He tries not to visibly cringe when his nerves make him stutter. She gives him a half smile.
"Yeah, I'm just starting out really. This is my first movie role."
"And you're the lead?"
"You're the lead. I'm just your girlfriend." I wish. He thinks, but doesn't say it out loud.
"Well, still, good for you."
"Thanks... so listen."
"Hmm?" He shifts a little as someone walks behind him and forces him closer to her. She looks up at him and he notices how her eyes are the same color as the ocean when it's deep.
"Let's not make this awkward, okay?"
"Oh, of course not." He nods reassuringly.
"We can be... friends." His heart sinks a little. Friends. That's all she wants.
"Sure. Friends sounds good." It doesn't sound good at all, but he'll settle for friends if that's what it takes to be around her.
"Elvis! Come meet some of the other cast members." The director calls from across the room. Elvis nods at Vivian.
"I'll see you around. I gotta..."
"Yeah. Go, Mr. Movie Star." She pats his shoulder lightly and a shiver runs all the way down his spine. He hopes he'll be able to keep it together around her for the whole movie.
******
"CUT. VIVIAN! THAT'S STILL WRONG." The director is yelling from his place behind the cameras. Elvis stands and watches as she struggles to do what she needs to do. He can tell that she's getting more and more frustrated as the takes go on and on. For some reason, she can't seem to wrap her head around the necessary lines. Elvis is dying to try to help her, but it's not the time or the place. She looks at her feet and shakes her hands and he knows she's trying not to cry. Every time the director yells at her, she gets more flustered.
"OKAY. AGAIN."
They try the scene again and Elvis holds his breath, begging God to help her get it right.
But she doesn't. She misses it again.
"CUT. Alright. That's enough for today." They've been trying to get the scene all day long and the director is done. Elvis hangs his head as the director stomps over to Vivian. He can't really hear what he's saying, but when she starts crying and begging, he takes a couple steps closer.
"Please, please let me try again tomorrow. Please don't do this to me. Please."
"I'm not wasting another day of filming. We're replacing you. We have another actress ready to go. You're fired."
"No! Please!"
"Okay. You're not completely fired. You can have a non-speaking part." The director turns and walks away from her. Vivian looks around at everyone watching and takes off running away from the set.
"Viv! Wait!" Elvis calls out to her and tries to follow her. He loses her somewhere in the trailers though and isn't exactly sure where she's gone. When he finds her trailer, he knocks on the door, but he doesn't hear any noise inside. He waits for a few minutes and then turns to walk away. Thats when he hears something hit the door and break. He knocks on the door louder this time.
"Viv, let me in!"
"Go away!" He decides to try the door. It's unlocked, so he opens it and slips inside.
CRASH
He ducks quickly as something hits the wall above his head and breaks.
"Viv! What the hell?!"
"I need another glass." He looks at her sitting on the couch with a bottle of vodka clutched to her. "Or maybe I don't."
She takes a pull straight from the bottle and grimaces.
"Vivian." He walks over and sits down next to her. She offers him the bottle and he declines.
"I got fired."
"I know. Are you okay?" She looks at him and laughs.
"I feel like you're always asking me that. I'll answer the same way I did last time. Do I look okay?" She takes another swig from the vodka bottle.
"No. You don't." He grabs the bottle when she gets it back to her lap and sets it on the coffee table.
"Hey..." She goes to reach for it and he pulls her to him, holding her with her head on his shoulder.
"No, that's enough." Even he's surprised by his command of the situation, but he knows more alcohol is the last thing she needs. He's not sure how much was in the bottle to start, but there's only about a third of it left. Her body quakes as she begins to cry again.
"I p-promised my stepdad I would make this acting thing work out."
"Why does he care?"
"He's tired of the burden I've become since I'm not married. He said he never dreamed I'd still be around." A wave of rage washes over Elvis. He's never met the man, but he imagines punching him if he did.
"Honey, it's not your fault you're not married." She sits up.
"Well I know that. Tell him!" She settles back into his shoulder. "Kinda is my fault though because I won't just marry anyone."
"Oh?" He dismisses the fleeting thought of proposing just to give her a way out.
"No. I want to be madly in love when I get married. I want to be so in love that we can't stand to be apart from each other for another minute." She sits up again and turns to him with a dreamy look in her eyes. "I want to positively burn for my husband and I want him on fire for me. You know?"
He nods as his heart races. Could she love him like that?
"I know exactly what you mean." He whispers.
Just then, she grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him into her, pressing her lips to his. He melts into her, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close to him. She opens her mouth and slides her tongue into his and the passion mounts as their tongues take turns dipping into the other's mouth. He can feel her hands against his chest and she whimpers a little. He pulls back and looks into her deep-ocean eyes and then leans in and kisses her cheek, down to her jawline, and then on down to her neck. She snakes her arms around his shoulders and pulls him with her as she lays back on the couch. He rearranges so that he's on top of her, rolling his hips into hers.
Is this it? Is this how they begin? His mind is racing as they continue to kiss deeply.
"Elvis, stop."
"What?" He backs away breathlessly and looks into her face.
"Are you in love with me?" His heart skips a beat. Is he?
"I-I-I..."
"Because I need you to know that this would just be sex. I'm really drunk and sad and I'm just not... I don't want to give you the wrong idea."
"How drunk?"
"That was a new bottle of vodka." When she says it, he notices how heavy her eyelids are and that her words are a little fuzzy around the edges. He feels like someone has knocked the wind out of him. Sitting up, he runs his hand through his hair and closes his eyes.
"You are, aren't you?" She asks him calmly.
"I didn't say that."
"Then why did you stop?"
"You're too drunk. I don't even know if you want this." She laughs and he looks down at her sadly.
"Oh, trust me. I want it."
"Well, I don't. Not like this." She sits up and glares at him.
"Then why the hell are you here, Elvis?!"
"I don't know."
"Fine. Get out, then." He stands up, grabbing the bottle of vodka as he does. He tries to head for the door, but she yanks the bottle away from him "Goodbye, Elvis."
Deeply discouraged, he walks out the door and down the steps to go back to the hotel. Is he in love with her?
******
The next day, he's sitting around with the guys during a break. They've brought in the new actress to play his girlfriend and she's great, but he wishes they'd given Vivian another chance. He looks up just as she walks by to sit with another actress about twenty yards away.
"You see her?" Joe asks the group of guys with a wry smile.
"Vivian?" Elvis asks confused.
"Yeah. She's got a hell of a mouth on her." He laughs raucously and pushes one of the other guys.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Joe?" Elvis feels himself start to seethe, hoping Joe isn't talking about what he thinks he's talking about.
"She came to my room last night. She gives great h-" Without another thought, Elvis is on top of him, throwing punches. The idea of him with Vivian makes him see red. And then him here talking that way about her pushes him over the edge. All the guys jump and holler, trying to pull them apart.
"Elvis, stop!!" It's Vivian's voice that cuts through the rest of the noise and gets to him. He drops Joe and stumbles backwards, breathing heavily. Blood drips from his nose where Joe landed a good defensive blow. "God. Men. Come with me."
She drags Elvis to a chair and makes him sit down. Then, she disappears for a bit. He considers getting up, as mad as he is, but he stays put until she comes back with some wet napkins to clean up his nose.
"What the hell were you thinking? You... with Joe?!"
"Elvis, I told you I was drunk and sad. You said no, so I found someone else." He feels another wave of rage rush through him.
"Just like that, huh? I really don't mean anything to you."
"You said you weren't in love with me. I told you we could be friends. That means you're going to have to be okay with me being with other guys. But if you're in love with me-"
"I'm not." It feels like a lie, but he wants it to be true.
"Good. Then, get over it." She says it softly as she finishes with his nose and pats his cheek gently. Then, she puts a hand on each arm of the chair and leans in close to him. "Listen, I like you a lot, Elvis. You're a great guy and it's probably a good thing you said no because I could fall in love with you. But I've seen you with girls. I know you have several on the hook right now. We can never be more than friends for that reason alone. I need someone on fire for me and no one else. Can you understand that?"
He looks down at his hands in his lap where bruises are starting to form. It's true, he does have a steady rotation of girls. And he has no way to make her believe that he would stop all that if they got together. Even he's not sure he could be true forever. But he'd certainly try, for her. Still, why would she ever trust him?
"Friends?" He looks up into her deep-water eyes again.
"Friends." She takes one of his bruised hands and kisses his knuckles gently. He actively ignores the way his heart skips when she does.
"With benefits?" He smiles coyly and she puts her hand on his forehead and pushes it backwards.
"We'll see..."
******
Until next time... thoughts?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!):
@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @jhoneybees @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley
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meowniee · 10 months
Text
Na Jaemin - Not Ready
Pairing: Female Reader x Na Jaemin (boyfriend)
Genre: Romantic and kinda kink smut
Word Count: 5599
Warnings: Switch reader and Jaemin | both are in college age | oral sex (m/f) | deep throat | cum play/eat | fingering | mentions of dry humping | unprotected sex (use condom in real life, please) | the reader is small compared to Jaemin | a little manhandling | bit of subspace | tell me if i need to tag anything else. Not proof read
A/N: Not a warning but: jaemin is a pillow princess (!!) in some parts (just a dick to satisfy her, omg this my favorite part) , reader is not innocent at all and she knows what sex is and everything etc.
“I want you”, you whisper in his ears using your sexier voice, lips pressing softly near the lob, the warm breath of your words caressing his little hairs.
“No, you’re not ready yet”, he whispers back, almost sounding like a repressed gasp.
“You can’t decide this for me!”, you speak louder, sitting back in his lap, outraged by the same old answer.
Jaemin shushes you with a tender kiss on your lips, cupping your face between his warm hands. “You’re not gonna die if we wait a little longer”.
Fuck, you can not be angry with him when he speaks so softly with you, his breathtaking stunning smile showing, looking fondly in your eyes.
“How can you say this? How do you know I’m not gonna die??”, you pout, your voice almost breaking ‘cause you want to cry in frustration.
“Are you going to die if I don't let you sit on my dick, baby?”, with an unblinking gaze he asks, his eyebrow raising defiantly. Your cheeks instantly feel warmer. Your eyes fall to your hands, regretting your words. Omg you're so embarrassed right now. Fuck, Jaemin…
“See? You can’t even handle the words”, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear, “Just give yourself a little more time. Be patient”. He kisses your forehead and lays you down, spooning your back. How can he sleep like that? You’re still burning in desire and frustrated. 
Jaemin is an exchange student, he came all the way from Korea to your country to study photography, pursuing his dreams. Since his first day he has captured everyone's hearts with his good manners and warm smile. You didn’t know a single person that dont like him. It’s like… impossible. He would never hurt a fly. On the contrary, he would take care of the fly if it was hurt. He’s just like that.
And it’s been a couple months that he is “taking care” of you. You aren’t hurt or something. You just really want to have sex with your boyfriend, but he his cock blocking himself everytime that you are making out. In the beginning you thought he was being really respectful, waiting for you to take the first step, approaching him or doing the first move. But in the last weeks it feels like he doesn't even want you. You tried a lot of things to seduce him: you dressed pretty for him, you did your sexier makeup, you touched him differently, you started slowly kissing his neck… And at no point did he show any interest in taking a step forward. So when you clearly stated that you wanted to have sex with him, he said this? Fuck, Na Jaemin.
Today you woke up in the morning to beautiful sunlight filling the room, the warmth covering you like a soft blanket. The sweet smell coming from the kitchen was amazing. Just before you decided to get up, Jaemin crossed the door with a tray full of delicious looking foods. 
“Good morning, princess”, his voice was cozier than your blankets.
You just smiled back, a little sleepy yet, stretching your arms above your head and sitting back at the bed frame.
He placed the tray in front of you. Orange juice, pancakes, coffee, a slice of cake and some grapes. It was a full breakfast for both of you. “Gomawoyo [thank you]”, you said. He looked surprised at you and smiled proudly. “I said it right?”, you shyly asked. “Ne [yes], it’s right. You’re so gwiyeobda speaking korean”. You closed your eyes trying to remember this one, but failed. “I don’t remember this one”, you pout a little, silently saying sorry. “It means cute”, he patted the top of your hair. You frown your eyes and smile with the gesture. Sometimes he treats you like his little puppy and you love it more than you want to assume. 
“Do you need something for tonight?”, he asked while eating a pancake.
“It is okay. I have everything ready”. 
Today is your birthday and you are having a party in your dorm. It’s not a big party but you made it clear that it was a kinda fancy party. You wanted to dress nicely, look pretty, like a doll in your high heels and short black dress. Your best friend helped with the preparations and will help you with your makeup too. 
“When is your best coming?” Jaemin asked.
“She will be here around 8pm… I hope”, you laugh. She’s almost ever on time but… you never know
“So I will go out for you to doll up without men around you”, he joked, “I will get some nice champagne for my princess birthday”, you flustered while he held your hand and kissed your knuckles.
“You tried something else after that?”, your friend whispered curiously while you two were choosing accessories to complement the looks. You sigh in discontent and shake your head. No, you haven’t tried anything after that sad attempt. 
“Girl, you read those things that I sent to you?”, she asked with a huge smirk on her face. “Maybe that way he can't say no… He’s being like that but he is still a man!”. 
You laugh, hiding your face between your hands, kinda embarrassed. “I don’t think I have the courage, but i will try my best”, you both laughed hard. She helped you put together a plan for today… you will sleep with Jaemin tonight. There’s no more time. You desperately need him naked, in your bed, touching all your body and everything. 
The plan? Well… If you couldn’t handle his words that night, now you can, and you will show your different side. You trained in the mirror a lot of times. You can’t be shy around him to conquer your prize. The sentences flood your mind for long hours the last few days. You will be the one that will not let him say no this time. You are choosing tonight and he’ll not be able to stand against it. If you don't give him a chance to say no, he can't stop you…
“Wow, you are stunning, princess”, Jaemin was enchanted by you. His eyes shining more than your jewels, his smile wider than ever while dancing close with you. “So, so beautiful”, he whispered in your ears. He was as stunning as you with a black suit perfectly fitting his broad shoulder and small waist. “Can’t wait to give you your present”.
“Wait! A present?”, you gasp in surprise, looking at him with rounded eyes.
“Yeah, a present… I think you’ll like”, he said with a mischievous smile, eyes piercing yours. “But we need to wait ‘till the end”.
Now your mind is malfunctioning. His words leave you dizzy, your body warm and chills running down your back. Maybe he planned the same thing for tonight? He is your gift? You couldn’t hear anything around you anymore, just his words repeating. God, just make this party end really fast. 
You couldn't wait. Two hours later you were leaving all responsibility for the remaining guests to your friend and walking upstairs with Jaemin right behind you. Holding his hand tight making sure he wouldn't run away, letting go only after having closed the bedroom door. You looked at him with your sparkling eyes, little smile.
“Wait a moment”, he asked, turning his back to look for something in his bag. You tried to sneak a look, but he was faster, turning to face you again.
He was holding a black box in one hand and the other was guiding you till you face the mirror with him pressed in your back, looking into your eyes through the reflection.
He rested his head on your shoulder as he opened the box, revealing a beautiful necklace. “I bought this for you. It will fit you so well”, he said as he took the jewel out of the box to put it around your neck. His hands brushing along your collarbone.
He put on the jewel and rested his hand on your shoulders gently, placing a soft but long kiss on your neck exposed by the dress. Eyes fixed in your expressions in the mirror. 
“This is so beautiful, Nana”, you sighed, touching the jewel that rested beautifully on your neck. “I want my princess all pretty for me”, he kissed your shoulder this time while his hands traveled down your arm. You got caught by his moves and turned your attention to him. His eyes were so calm, but so dark. Your body softened in his arms, letting your head fall back a little, exposing your neck.
He started to kiss you from your shoulder with little pecks all the way to your earlobe, sending shivers down your whole body. You had to bite your lip to hold a soft moan when he softly bit your ear, taking a deep breath of your perfume.
You let your hand travel to his neck, caressing his soft black hair, turning your head to look into his eyes. Your lips were so close, almost touching, like a magnetic force pulling towards each other. His hands pressing your waist, back pressed against his chest, solid like a wall. 
You part your lips and close your eyes inviting him to start the kiss. His lips are soft and you feel him melt when your mouths connect. His body moves while kissing you, almost like a little dance, and your body follows him naturally. He cups your cheek, a thumb pressed gently in your face while the rest pull you closer. Your body starts to feel warmer and you deepen the kiss, your tongue invading his mouth needy. The kiss became sloppy and messy, hard to breathe as you devoured each other's mouths.
He turns you into his embrace. Your hands flew to his chest, cupping his gym worked tits. He mischievously smiled after looking at how tiny your hands looked in his body. He took a deep breath and dove into your mouth again. Your hands started slowly to open his buttons, your touch so soft, trying to catch him off guard.
You only managed to open half of them when he broke the kiss and grabbed your wrists. You looked into his eyes and silently challenged him. With your fists immobilized by his hands, you lashed out with your mouth. Small kisses left on the warm exposed skin of his chest. “Don’t tease me like this”, he growled, closing his eyes, but not letting you go yet. 
You started licking his smooth skin with just the tip of your tongue, making sure to breathe right after so he can feel the temperature difference. He inhaled deeply through his teeth, letting a sound of pleasure escape his mouth. He let his head drop back, just enjoying the feeling. You took that opportunity to free your hand and grab his, leading him to the bed like a predator seducing his prey. Your prey. Your foux eyes fixed in his, your lips curving in the ends. He just follows you till you grab him and throw him on the bed. He sits and looks up at you, standing taller than him. You are so close between his legs that he is almost pressing his chin in your stomach, right under your boobs.
Hands pressing his chest down, you kiss him until his back is pressed on the mattress under you. His hands caressing your waist all the time, traveling up to your ribs and back to your hips. He’s lost in the trance. He’s lost in you and what you’re doing to him right now. He almost forgot that he needed to breathe.
“Baby…”, he sighs, looking at you and breaking the kiss, “Where is this coming from?”. For a moment you thought he might be mad, but he wasn't. No. He was enjoying it too much. His gaze melted, his body surrendered to yours. You sit in his crotch, sliding your hand in his chest and unbuttoning the remaining buttons. He’s not stopping you. 
You return your lips to his mouth, down his neck and collarbone, all the way down his chest. You stopped to leave an experimental kiss right beside his nipple. He groaned and tensed his hands in your hips. You go a little further and lick it before closing your lips around, sucking gently. You feel his hips trusting your core. You smile with victory. Your boyfriend is totally lost underneath you, surrendered and pretty hard.
You feel his hand holding the back of your neck, with almost no pressure, but guiding your mouth to the other nipple. His sounds are so pretty that is making you ruin your lace lingerie that you choose just for this night, for him. You continue your journey across his abdomen (all the six packs, omg), kissing and licking all the spots you've always wanted to worship. 
He took your lips off his body when you got to the waistband of his pants, gently pulling you by your hair. “You're evil”, he whispered the words in a deep voice. You smiled and pressed your cheek to his hip, bringing your mouth so close to his already hard bulge. “You sure about this, princess?”, he looked closely at you smirking, looking for signs of doubt. But he did not. You were very sure about that. Without a word, you laid your hand down gently, fingers touching his hard cock. His mouth opened on a moan as you closed your fingers around him. Then he snapped.
He grabbed your head and pulled to his face, sitting again, shoving his tongue inside your mouth, looking desperately for yours. Fuck… He was kissing you like he was starving for days and you were his fresh meal. His hand everywhere on your body, pressing you against his chest and down in his crotch, making you roll your hips against him. You finally let out a high pitched moan when he trusted you harder. 
“This feels so much better than my pillow”, you murmur in his mouth.
“Fuck, baby…”, the only thing that he could pronounce while you speed up your hips. His lost eyes rolled back.
“Do you want me to stop?”, you tease him.
He shakes his head ‘no’.
“That’s what you wanted? All that ‘you’re not ready bullshit”,you talk like a snake, your voice comes out like hisses while you return to assault his neck, biting his perfect skin, leaving little marks. He’s just a groan mess right now, his cock pulsating inside his pants, his eyes closed. “Did you want me to take control of you so badly? … Oh baby, you could've just asked me”, you mocked. You felt your head being pulled, forcing your face below his. His sudden attitude left you breathless.
“Watch your words… or I'm gonna think that you don't want to be treated like a princess in your first time”, he threatens, his voice is dark, his eyes trailing all over your expression.
Fuck, you’re so in trouble right know. But it softens right away. His duality will drive you crazy. He gently lay back, guiding your head gently to his crotch. His lips already smiling again, his hands leaving your head just to rest behind his own.
You unzip his pants and pull them down, lowering your lips to his covered dick. Just a thin line separating his member from your mouth. You’re drooling just thinking about having him weighing on your tongue.
You face him and start pulling his underwear down, almost painfully slowly, without taking your eyes off him. You take his thick member and massage it lightly, running your small hand up and down, feeling the sensitive skin at the tip and all the prominent veins leading up to it. You feel the fluid that slowly comes out of it letting your hand slide easier. You press a little harder and twist your hand when you reach the top. A low pitched moan leaves his pretty lips again.
You stick your tongue out and lick the tip like a kitten. His eyes devour every new move you make. You take him in your mouth, moving down slowly as your jaw relaxes to accommodate his size. As you accommodate him, you move your head up and down, pressing your tongue up and sucking, twisting your fists where your mouth couldn’t reach, doing it faster as your mouth relaxes.
“Shit, baby… Do it slower”, he instructs you. A hand resting on the back of your neck, guiding your moves. “Where did you learn to do that?” His rhetorical question was cut off as you swirl your tongue around the tip, followed by a series of indistinguishable murmurs. The hand that previously rested on your neck starts to press you down, making you take him even more. He stopped before it made you gag, but he kept you there. 
“Baby, can you relax and breathe through your nose for me?” You looked at him and nodded, doing as he asked, breathing slowly through your nose, feeling your throat relax even more. He presses your head down slowly, feeling his cock go deeper into your mouth, pressing against your throat. He groans and bites his lip as he watches the member disappear.
“Now swallow”, and you did. His cock slid down your soft, warm throat until your nose was pressed into his abdomen. He looked down and saw you wet eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed. Your little hands pressed his thigh while you trying to breathe with his cock shoved down your throat. He let go of your head and you freed your mouth with a pop, spit forming lines connecting you and his dick standing tall in front of your face. 
You wanted so bad to taste his cum that you protested when he suddenly pulled you into a kiss. “What was that?”, he asked after hearing you whining. You couldn't speak the words that went through your head. “Where is your bold persona now? Pull yourself together and say what you want, princess”, he used the same tone you used with him earlier, mocking you. “Want to stop?”, he asked seriously this time, always watching your expressions.
“No… just want to make you cum…”, you replied looking into his eyes, doing your best to hold his gaze as your face burned.
“You want my cum… in your mouth?”, he asked cautiously, his voice smooth as silk in your ears. You nodded in response.
“Fuck… you just need to ask, love. Everything for my princess”, he smiled and pressed your head below his cock, right in his balls, while his other hand wrapped around his girth. “Lick them like a puppy”, he ordered. You watched intently as he massaged his cock from bottom to top, licking his balls as he asked. He was a mess, lips parted in an 'o' shape, eyes closed and head tilted back. Small beads of sweat started to run down his neck and forehead, wetting the ends of his hair that were there. His breathing getting shorter and his noises louder, his abdomen contracting. 
“You think you can swallow me again, princess?” You didn’t wait to take him in your mouth again. He looked bigger than before, weighing more on your tongue.
“Relax and swallow”, and he pressed you all the way down again, faster than before, making you choke. Your throat closing made him squirm, moaning floating through his lips.
“Tongue out”, he commanded as he took it out of your mouth, jerking faster, looking at your face. You know you looked irresistible like that. Tongue sticking out, sitting on your heels, puppy ​​eyes, waiting thirsty for his cum to drop all over your face. 
The scene in front of you was also irresistible. He looked very close to cumming, breath hitched, mouth open, eyes almost rolling back. Fuck. You slid one of your hands between your legs to try to quell the pain that was making you throb.
Without a warning beyond the loud moan, he cummed in your tongue. The thick fluid falling into your mouth made you moan too. He kept jerking his cock until he could breathe and his muscles relaxed. You waited anxiously with your tongue full of cum for him to give you an order. He looked at you and stroked your cheek gently. 
“So patient”, he praised you, looking proudly at your messy face. “Come here”, he gestured with his fingers, beckoning you closer. You were doing your best not to let the cum run off your tongue, but it was too hard. You could already feel a part slowly oozing out. 
He helped you climb onto his lap, straddling his lap. “Oww, you are making a mess”, he took out his own tongue and licked what was running from the corner of your mouth. You didn't know you could feel even more horny than you were feeling right now. “Kiss me”, he ordered, already passing his tongue on yours, scooping someone from your mouth just to shove it right back. 
It was the messiest kiss of your life, cum dripping from the corners of your mouth as you shared. You couldn't control your hips rolling in this tight, pressing on your throbbing point, wanting some relief from the burning sensation in your core. In the end, he made you swallow everything, until the last drop of his cum. Hands gripping hard in your hips, helping you to keep the rhythm as it became out of step.
“Are you sure it's your first time, princess?”, Jaemin jokes, his voice still rough from moaning. 
“I just did it in my mind… a lot of times”, you admitted, sheepishly at the end.
“Have you been thinking about humping my thigh too?”, he forced your face to look in his eyes. His grip slowed your movements, making you whine.
“Nana… don’t stop”, your voice was like a whisper in his ears.
“My mouth is better than my thigh, you know?. Come here, baby”. He helped you out of bed and slowly began to take off your dress. His warm hands pushed the dress off your curves, letting it fall to your feet. 
He reached out and took your hand, guiding you to the bed again, but this time more romantically, laying you gently on your back on the soft mattress. He kissed your lips and imitated what you had done to him. He went down your body leaving wet kisses and small bites. Every new place his mouth touched burned your skin, making you shiver. 
He put your leg over his shoulder and looked into your eyes. His lips were so close you could almost feel them touching you. He stuck out his tongue and pressed against you. He maintained eye contact until his eyes closed in pleasure at the taste of you. He began to quickly move up and down past your swollen clit to your tight entrance, slightly sticking his tongue inside of you.
A new sensation was added when he started stroking you with his thumb. He pressed in and out, each time letting himself in deeper, until you felt him inside you, massaging your velvet walls. Your legs trembled around his head and you felt him chuckle pressed into you. The thumb quickly turned into one finger, then two, in and out in a slow, almost painful rhythm. Your body was sweating and your mind was going insane. You were almost there, but it seemed to be unreachable at the pace he was dictating.
You started rolling your pelvis against his face, trying to get his tongue to go faster.  He moaned with your movements and stopped, leaving his tongue out for you to use as you pleased. You started to fuck against his tongue, at the pace you knew would make you come. Your fingers tangled in his hair and pressed him even closer. The vibrations of his moans further increased your confidence and your pleasure. He kept his fingers firmly inside you, abusing a specific spot that brought you even closer to exploding. 
And then you did it. Pleasure flooded through your body and every muscle tensed, eyes rolling back, breathing paused as the sensation spread. And you melted in his mouth. He greedily licked all the pleasure that oozed out of your pussy. You didn't notice it but you've been pulling his hair all the time, pressing his face almost inside you. You couldn't get enough of it.
He made your orgasm last as long as possible. You protested when he took his fingers away from you, feeling the emptiness. His feline eyes were squinted at you. Satiated? He seemed far from being. He was just getting started and you didn't know if your body could take it anymore. You've never had more than one orgasm and surely your fingers didn't give you as much pleasure as his mouth did now. 
He laid his head on your thigh and waited until your body stopped shaking. His hands caressed your legs and hips, calming your senses. He looked like a predator softening up prey before attacking.
Like a cat, he crawled over your body, stopping at your chest. Your peaked nipples were an invitation for him to take them between his lips. He sucked gently as he swirled his tongue around it. His hand reached out, taking it and squeezing it gently.
“What was it like to use my face, princess?”, he whispered in your ear while his hand was still busy playing with your breast. 
“Incredible. But I want you inside me now.”
“Ohh, inside you? Come on then.”, he quickly spun you onto him, leaving you sitting on his hip. His hard cock rested on his stomach. Fuck... you couldn't believe all that had gone into your mouth moments before. He looked bigger now compared to the small distance from your entrance to your navel. 
“Worried?”, he asked as he watched your eyes travel over his body.
“I'm… a little… worried if it's going to hurt”, you pouted. He broke into a smile as soon as you shared your thoughts. “It looks so… rock solid”. Your words made him laugh out loud. 
“Yes, princess. It’s really hard right now”. He guided your hips until you had your lips pressed against his cock. He moved you the full length of his size, leaving a glittering trail behind. He stopped when you reached the tip, circling your clitoris deftly. He was stimulating you with the tip of his cock. Your body started to heat up again as your pussy managed to get even wetter.
He pulled your body against his defined chest, devouring your mouth without ceasing to minister against your sensitive spot. His hand burning all over your body. He was such a great kisser that you almost forgot that you’re about to be ripped open by his member. You felt a hand slip between your bodies. You felt him positioning the tip just in front of your entrance. You felt the pressure trying to get inside you. 
“Keep kissing me”, he ordered. He guided you down his dick, slowly. Your walls contracting with the entrance almost made your eyes roll over. Fuck, you’re feeling everything. All the bulging veins, the perfect shape of the tip, the delicious upward curve of his cock. Everything. The mixed feeling of discomfort and pleasure left your body confused. How could this be so good?
Then he stopped. You've never felt so full in your entire life. Your insides pulsed around him. 
“Hmm, you did so well, baby. When you're ready, use me however you like”, his free hand caressing your cheek. 
“Fuck, Nana…”, your head finally falls on his shoulder, trying to relax the rest of your body.
He patted your head while holding your butt pressed against him. You began rolling your hips experimentally, small circles at the base that further expanded your small hole. Each time it seemed to slide more easily through your walls. His growls below your ear matched the sounds you were making.
“Just like that, baby. Fuck yourself on my dick now. You wanted this so bad.”
Your ass began to pick up the pace, rising and sitting again, deeper and faster, the pain no longer hurting. Just pleasure running free all over your body. You could feel his body tensing, his breath unstable, little curses and praises flowing through your ears. 
You rested your hands on his chest and pushed yourself up, making him penetrate you even deeper, if that was possible. His gaze went from your face to where he disappeared inside you. His hand landed on your belly where a small bump formed. Your mind spun as you went up and down and saw the bump move. You looked at him in awe.
You started to set the pace faster, digging your nails into his chest, head dropped back, sweat nearly dripping into the valley of your breasts. Your thighs were burning with the movement, but it felt too good to stop. 
He watched your expressions of pleasure and frustration. He knew you had never come with penetration before. His thumb began to press against your already throbbing clit. The other hand guided your errant movement bouncing on his member. 
You slapped his hand off your pussy so you could reach your orgasm yourself, rubbing your clit the way you like it, pressing hard and fast. Jaemin was controlling himself a lot watching you use his body to achieve your pleasure. His eyes traveling between your face and your hand between your bodies. He didn't know if he could take much longer without coming before you. 
You felt your insides contract as well as your muscles. Your body spasms on top of him like electrical waves. You stopped your hips as your body processed the most wholesome orgasm you have ever had. Your moans echoed in the room and you had to place your hands on his chest so that your body didn't completely collapse.
There were so many sensations that you didn't notice when he quickly took your wrists and laid you down on the bed. With your wrists pinned above your head with one of his hands, he started to fuck your clenching walls. You involuntarily tried to get out from under him, but you were still with his other hand pressing down on your hips.
You didn't know what it was, but the overstimulation was driving you to a second orgasm without you having recovered from the first one. Now his hips were pressing hard and fast against you. Your name escaped his mouth in a mixture of groans and grunts. Maybe you felt it when the tears started to escape your eyes rolled with pleasure, but you’re not sure.
“I'm gonna cum deep inside you when you cream on my cock again, princess”, his voice came out as a deep, almost menacing growl. His brows were furrowed as his tongue pressed against his cheek. His eyes were just open enough to see you squirming beneath him.
“Please, Jaemin…”, you begged right away as the pressure on your G-spot was too much and the warm sensation took over your body again. 
The warm sensation wasn't just from your pleasure, but also from his cum being injected inside you. He pressed his cock so deep that you thought that you really were being split open. He stopped thrusting but you could feel him pulsing as he came with you.
You both remained catching your breath still inside each other. He slightly loosened his grip in your wrists and began massaging in small circles where he had pressed hard before. His lips left brief kisses down your face and neck while your minds returned to reality.
“Ow princess, why are you crying?”, he gently asked as he felt tears cut the path of his kisses. 
You shook your head in response. You didn't know why you were crying, but you didn't want him to think he had hurt you. He held you tight against his chest, stroking your hair as he soothed you.
“I'm feeling like I'm floating…”, you struggle to talk and think at the same time, but you manage to communicate with an airy voice.
“I’m here with you. Take a deep breath”, his nurturing voice came back. You're feeling so embraced in his warm figure that you could sleep right away. “You did so well, princess. You were such a good girl for me. I’m so lucky to have you”, he said and then kissed your forehead tenderly.
“Nana… why not before?”, you looked in his eyes.
“Why didn't we do this before?”
You nodded in agreement.
“I wanted you so bad, baby. But I hated the feeling of corrupting you like you were an innocent teenage girl”, he replied promptly, caressing your cheek and wiping the trail of the tears that had flowed earlier. “You're such a strong woman in all aspects of your life, Y/n. I wanted your confident self like this too. And the wait was worth it”, he smiled and kissed your lips affectionately.
“But you're going to have to tell me later where you learned all this…”, he said in a playful voice, lightly tickling your neck. Your face couldn't be hotter than it is right now from embarrassment.
“Now we're going to take a shower and then I'm going to prepare something for us to eat, okay?”, you cracked a smile as he picked you up.
Fuck, Na Jaemin… How could he be such a perfect man?
251 notes · View notes
heartbreakgrill · 5 months
Text
Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Pt. 5, "Is it cool that I said all that?"
A week passed, just like that. We had flown to Germany at the beginning of the next week, where we’d be for just fourteen days before we’d move onto France. 
Oliver and I didn’t have many chances to see one another. We were always on different wavelengths. Him, with rehearsals, vocal rests, writing sessions. Me, with the delicacies of travel. The only times we really saw each other were during breakfast or dinner, two places he’d been making a point to show up to. No one really noticed his newfound presence- no one but me, considering it seemed to previously be a way for him to spite my very existence.
His first appearance happened the very next morning after our conversation on the bus. After he kissed me like he was going off to battle, we rode the elevator up our floor, departed at my door, and just an hour later, he ended up texting me goodnight. That message alone was enough to have my heart beating crazily. 
The next morning, I was still feeling that aftershock while sitting at the breakfast table, talking to Ronnie about her brother’s baby. The elevator doors dinged, opening up like the literal gates of heaven. I barely paid any mind because everyone who normally came to breakfast was already seated at our table. But, I did spare a glance and caught sight of his dark figure, slinking towards us. I gave a second look, stumbling over whatever it was I had been saying to Ronnie. I covered up my stutter by clearing my throat, but she didn’t really notice, nor did she seem to care. Oliver sat at the end of the table, greeting everyone with his same simple nod. My heart was going again. 
I tried not to stare, tried not to even look at him for fear of melting on the spot, even when I felt his eyes burning into my face. I was blushing, bright red. My knee shook, nervously, under the table as I brushed my hair from my cheeks, behind my ears. I caught his eye from the corner of my own and he smiled, ever so slightly. 
I was done for, I knew it. 
It became a delight to see him at these meals, even if we never got the chance to speak to each other; even if, afterwards, he’d shoot back upstairs to his room. That was always my favorite part, when he disappeared from the table because, shortly after, he’d text me. 
Something like:
Oliver: your hair looked pretty today. 
Daisy: you looked alright 🤷
Oliver: wooooooow
I compliment you and this is how you treat me
Daisy: oh im so super sorry
Oliver, you are so handsome and gorgeous and amazing and awesome
Better?
Oliver: sure, sure 
That’s where most of our conversation took place, over text, especially that first week that whatever this was began to take place.
He’d text me good morning and good night, nearly every single day. He’d ask how my day was, ask me what sort of plans I had. I kept waiting for this question to evolve into another one, something like, “Wanna hang out later?” I’d settle for a damn booty call, if that’s what he wanted. I tried not to get frustrated when that first week drug on, knowing he was insanely busy. I couldn’t expect him to drop everything else and prioritize me. But, a small part of me hoped he would. 
I just wanted a little bit more of his attention. 
Luckily, I- eventually- got it.
We were in Germany for the next week. We flew out from Italy that Sunday, settled into our hotel in the early afternoon. I hadn’t planned anything for that Monday, hoping to just rest a bit, leisure across the city, maybe. I knew, too, that the band was off that day. Maybe a small part of me was making sure I was available in case he wanted to grace me with his presence. I wouldn’t admit it, though, because it just wasn’t healthy. 
But, my hopes amounted to something. 
At first, things seemed to regress. There were no messages from him on my phone. 
I thought about texting him first, but I felt strange doing so, like he’d be annoyed if I reached out instead. I then tried to ignore the sinking feeling that this put in my chest. Maybe he was done with me. Maybe he realized that this wasn’t ever going anywhere, especially considering we hadn’t so much as had an in-person conversation in a week. Luckily, I hadn’t slept with him. 
My mind began racing too much, so I pulled myself out of bed and started getting ready for the day. Sam was already gone. He told me yesterday that he, Cy, Adam, and Ronnie had made plans to go do something. He offered me to come with, but I really wanted to just laze about. There was an infinity pool and today was going to be one of the warmest days of the summer for this country. Soaking up the sun seemed like a good way to truly relax. 
So, I put on a bathing suit, slipped a sundress overtop, and rubbed sunscreen all over myself. I wasn’t about to battle a sunburn on top of jet lag. Then, I packed my purse with my water bottle, my latest book, headphones, and my wallet. Just as I went to grab my phone, sling my towel over my shoulder, head out, a knock came from the door. 
I turned to the sound with furrowed brows. Housekeeping wasn’t supposed to come until we told them to. And, as far as I knew, we hadn’t scheduled a cleaning. 
“Who is it?” I called out, stepping towards the door. 
“It’s me,” a low voice responded, hushed in volume. 
A thrilling excitement suddenly rushed through my veins. I tried not to rush over to the door and instead, forced myself to take slow steps. I set a hand on the handle, already feeling a shake in my bones. Just being this close to him pulled some sort of chemical reaction out of me. 
The door opened and Oliver turned his head straight, to really look at me. He had been checking over his shoulder, paranoid about any passerbyers. As soon as he saw me, he grinned, wide. Then, he didn’t hesitate to shove me back into the room, his hands on my hips, his lips grasping for mine. He threw the door shut behind him. 
It took me a second to find my footing. But, when I did, I became desperate, hungry. I tugged at the front of his hoodie in an attempt to get him as close to me as physically possible. Oliver ran a hand up my hip, across the front of my body, between my breasts, up around my neck. His fingers were slotted just beneath either side of my jaw. He pressed down, ever so slightly, to ensure my mouth stayed on his. 
As he kissed me, I could tell he was basically starved. This was even more evident when he nipped my bottom lip, drawing just the thinnest drop of blood. I moaned, involuntarily, at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin, though it was only for a millisecond. 
Oliver reared his head back, looking down at me with furrowed brows. He processed what had just happened, assisted by the size of my pupils and the way my lips sat, open, waiting for him to come back. A smirk twisted onto his lips, “Oh, darling…”
He pulled me back in, running his tongue across my bottom lip to clear the blood. My knees were weak. Luckily, he moved, so that he was sitting on the bed and tugged me down into his lap again. He didn’t hesitate to grab my ass, grip on my throat tightening a bit. He moved his lips to my cheek as his movements became painfully slow. 
“You’re so pretty, Daisy,” he whispered against the apple of my cheek. I felt his eyelids flutter across my skin as he moved away from my lips. I nearly shivered at the goosebumps, a stark contrast to the heat pooling all over my body. 
He moved his other hand to my neck, too, brushing the hair down over the back of my shoulder. In doing so, he placed his hand back where it had been. Then, his lips made their way to my bare skin, right where my neck curved into my shoulder. His sweet, soft kisses suddenly turned into small nips, his teeth tugging at my skin. 
I squeaked at the first one, but, then, as he carried on down my neck, I found pleasure in the nipping pain. I gripped at his shoulders, a hand moving to his hair, as my desperation took over my body. I couldn’t sit still anymore. I ground my hips down into his, eliciting a huffed breath from Oliver. I wanted to grin at the power I knew I had over him, but I really just wanted to stay as I was- putty in his hands. I didn’t want any control. I was his to use, his to manipulate. I would do whatever.
But, I did find a little bit of a rhythm in my hips, if only because I needed the friction. I was motivated when I knew it was making him feel good, too. As I did so, Oliver’s lips came to my skin again. They caressed the edge of my earlobe, where I could hear his sweet breathlessness. 
“Daisy,” he whispered, nearly moaning my name into my ear.  
I shuddered a sharp, audible breath at the sound of this. I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed him- everywhere. The anticipation, all of these long weeks- even just this one- it was killing me. 
I pressed my forehead against the side of his head, whispering my own words into his ear, “Oliver, please!”
He finally listened. His hand found the bottom hem of my sundress and he quickly tore it from my head. It landed somewhere across the room. Eyes still dropped shut, I went blindly for his hoodie. But, Oliver caught my hands in his, stretching my arms out on either side of us. 
I opened my eyes curiously, brows furrowed. His gaze was dragging itself down my swimsuit-clad body, a sly grin on his lips. I blushed at the look on his face and wanted to pull my arms back around myself. But, he held me open. He kept admiring. 
“Daisy, darling,” he rolled his eyes back up, over my chest, until he met my stare. A wider grin stretched across his face. “Daisy…you are gorgeous.”
I scrunched up my nose and looked down at our laps. He dropped our hands and took my face in his hold, pulling my eyes back to his. “Don’t do that. We’re not gonna do that, okay? Even if you have to pretend, I won’t let you be ashamed of yourself when we do this, okay? You are…so fucking beautiful.”
I took a deep breath as the sincerity of his words sunk into my skin. I nodded slightly. 
Oliver eyed my lips and slowly leaned back into me. This kiss was different. The hunger, the ferocity, slowed. It was almost…loving, gentle. But, then, I moved my hands back to his hair, tugged slightly, and he went back to ravishing me. 
I helped Oliver shed his hoodie. Then, I had my turn, admiring his toned chest, scarce of any dark makeup. I didn’t have to say anything to him. I knew that he could read all of my thoughts through my eyes. 
What I wanted to say, but couldn’t quite find the words to, was that he was something out of a Greek myth, something untouchable. Something that would never be real. 
I drug my fingers down his chest as he kissed me again. I undid his belt. When I tugged at his jeans, I found my footing on the floor, moving off of him, so he could stand to pull the pants down. His hands were back on my body in an instant. Though he began to tug me back on his lap, I had my own plans. Just as I began to crouch down to his knees, Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but-
A knock sounded from the door, followed by a taunting, “Daisy…”
Shit. 
Max. 
My spine straightened so fast, I thought it would snap in half. Mine and Oliver’s head whipped towards the door, my own gaze widened with utter shock. Oliver formed a fist with his hand, punching the palm of his other in slow defeat. 
He looked back to me, fear in his pupils, “What the fuck?” 
I shrugged defensively, bewildered. I went to whisper back when Max spoke again. “Daisyyyyyy, darling- I know you’re awake. Was wondering if you wanted to hang today, since we’re both free. Cmon, open up-“ he rapped his knuckles against the door again. 
Everything occurred in a desperate haste: Oliver rounded up his clothes, arms stuffed full of them, within five seconds flat. I tracked down his shoes as he did so. Then, I nearly pushed him onto the floor of the bathroom. He stumbled on his feet, barely catching himself on the counter. As the door fell shut, he shot me a panicked, worrisome expression that I could only scrunch my face up at. I didn’t know what he wanted me to do, but he was acting like someone was here to murder him. 
I went to the door, sweating a bit, and lay a shaky hand upon the knob. Then, I realized I was half-naked and rushed to pull my dress back on. Before he could knock again, I let Max in, hoping I looked anything but suspicious. 
As soon as he came into view, Max was elbowing his way inside. He held a tray with two drinks and a small brown pouch that wafted a delicious smell past me. 
He carried an energy that was far too excited for my current nervous stature. “Good morning, darling! Sleep well? I sure did. What are your plans for the day? I’m thinking we lounge out by the pool for a few hours, maybe catch a late lunch, then hit the town? Drop by a few bars? Maybe we can round up the rest of the group, force Oliver out of his self-inflicted prison, have some fun? Yeah?” 
As he spoke, Max moved around the room, unloading one of the drinks into my hands, picking out a few napkins, presenting a pastry on the small desk in the corner, seating himself onto the bed all casually with a leg crossed over the other. When he finished, he took a slow sip of his coffee, brows raised expectantly 
I toyed with the lid on my drink, eyes darting nervously towards the bathroom. I knew it wasn’t true, but I almost felt like I could hear Oliver’s breathing. Smell his cologne. I worried Max would, too. 
Everything would be over. 
“Um-“ I cleared my throat. Then, I tried to relax my shoulders and approach Max with a friendly smile. “Yeah! Yeah, that could be fun. I was planning on going down to the pool anyway.”
“Wonderful, darling,” Max approved, “Well, why don’t you go ahead and finish getting ready and we’ll get going.” 
I looked around me, trying to remember where I had left off this morning, when Oliver had barged in and interrupted my routine. 
“I just need to grab my stuff, actually. I was heading out the door before O-“ I cut myself off from my explanation, lips pinched together in a way that I could only assume looked quite guilty. I swallowed thickly, ashamedly glancing towards the bathroom again. I tried to save myself, “before you started knocking, ha! What a coincidence!”
“Coincidence…” Max followed my glancing gaze. I snapped my eyes back forward, and he met me there. The edges of his pupils seemed to squint, like he was reading between the lines, but he didn’t say anything else. “Well! To the pool we go!”
We were in the clear…for now. 
-
Oliver: i am so fucking sorry 
Hes a prick
So fucking daft
God
I love him 
But what a bloody idiot
Daisy: LMFAO
I dont even know what to say 
I feel bad for you!!
Theres gonna be a witch hunt for you if anyone ever figures it out
Oliver: god dont remind me
Youre so worth it though
We spent hours poolside, like two beached whales, glistening with sweet sweat on our shoulders and sunscreen in our skin. I dipped into the water infrequently, if only to cool myself down, but spent most of my time finishing up a book (texting Oliver between its pages). I cursed Max for his lightly tinted shades, praying to whatever God above that he wasn’t side-eyeing me, that he couldn't see my illicit grins, my quick thumbs. 
I tried to get Oliver to come hang out with us. If I couldn't have him to myself, I’d take small doses of him with others. But, as vampiric as he was, laying by the pool was just not something he wanted to do. Besides, in his own words:
Oliver: I just wouldn't be able to be so close to you without doing something
Especially with you in that little bit of cloth you call a swimsuit 
I should be a dick and make you squirm
Make you think about me while you’re all peaceful by the pool
Make you think about my hands
My teeth
Daisy: Oliver…
Asshole
Oliver: sorry, darling
But after that incident with the cake?
And that bathing suit
Yeah i think it's my turn
(1 attached photo)
The heat outside was nothing compared to what I felt in my chest. I ensured my jaw was shut tightly, unwilling to let the saliva pooled in my mouth dribble down my chin. Then, I scrounged through my photo albums, cursing myself for having deleted my most intimate photos. Instead, I had to just stare (drool) at the one he’d sent- his hand, his bare stomach, the very edges of his pitch black boxers. 
I would never lose this game- I just couldn't. But, in this moment, I was! While I liked being submissive in the end, I enjoyed being the one doing the teasing. That slight upper hand I got from it gave me a headrush. I was, I guess…bratty. 
So, I watched Max carefully from the corner of my vision, thankful for my tiny bathing suit. I could make do- if he’d just leave. He was reading his own novel, hunched over a little bit. It had been a while since he’d gone to the bathroom or really even moved. He had to eventually.
My wishing on invisible stars worked because Max excused himself to the bathroom. He first paused to ensure I was doing okay. I thanked him for his concern with an urgent smile, quick nod of my head. And then he was gone. 
Daisy: I really don’t get what all this fuss is about. I think this suit covers me up just fine, don’t ya think?
(1 attached photo)
Oliver: behave, miss thing
You have no idea what’s waiting for you
Daisy: sure, sure
Needless to say, Oliver put me on the very edge of my seat all day. I only had the one photo that was taken in the heat of the moment. He had…an empty hotel room and an imagination like any other. He never let me see past those stupid boxers though, holding out on me to only intensify that anticipation. 
As was Max’s plan, we grabbed a late lunch. I had hoped we’d change beforehand, but he was so hungry, we had to rush out of the hotel. And, as per usual with Max, he took his good old time eating, strolling leisurely, dropping by every single shop that caught his eye. Don’t get me wrong- it was a lot of fun. I was grateful to have some one-on-one time with him. 
But, I knew what- who was waiting for me back at the hotel. So, I was a little distracted.
Eventually, the day was coming to a close. No one really wanted to go out drinking because the band had rehearsals early in the morning. Instead, we were all going to meet up for a light dinner in the hotel bar. 
I tried to escape Max as soon as we entered the hotel, but he insisted on walking me to my room. Meanwhile, Oliver was shooting me a dozen messages- he was in his room, he didn’t have a shirt on, and he was waiting for even the shortest possible breath that he could take at my lips. 
Max stood outside my door, yapping about some shop lady who had made a joke to us earlier. He kept laughing, kept going over the punchline. It was funny, sure, but I was literally trying to close the door between us, a forced smile aching on my cheeks.  We had to be at dinner in just half an hour and I needed to shower. I would sacrifice all that time for Oliver, but I was sure I smelled of sunscreen and sweat. I needed to rush under the hot water, and then rush into his arms. 
“Ha! Can you imagine? What kind of-” Max kept going. 
I faked another laugh, positive that one of my eyelids was winking shut, visibly displaying the max level of insanity that I felt right now. I took another step back into my room, preparing to bid farewell.
Luckily, Max caught sight of the time. “Holy shit, Daz,” he looked up from his watch, “it’s so late! Sorry to cut our wonderful day short, but we better hit the showers before everyone wonders where we’re at.”
“Ah! Good idea!” I bumped the heel of my hand against my head, shock on my face. Then, I pushed up onto my tiptoes to give him a short kiss to the cheek, “Thank you for today. I really just had the best time ever! Love you, Max!”
Then, as he began to respond, “Aw, darling, me, too! I love you-” I shut the door on him, “Oh- yep! I’ll see you in a bit!”
The speed at which I moved through that hotel room was sure to rip the carpet up off of the floor. I kicked off my sandals, sending one right into the window. It made a loud clanking noise, which I flinched at, before landing on Sam’s bed. But then I was already moving onto my sundress, tearing it off, ripping my swimsuit down my legs, over my head. Once those were off, I jumped in the shower, grateful that I didn’t need to wash my hair so I could do a quick rinse. 
I was back out of the shower as quickly as I’d gotten in, doing my hair up into a claw clip, pulling on an outfit that didn’t require much thought, but was still concise enough to be cute. I barely had my phone and purse in hand before I was shooting across the hall, like a chicken crossing the road. 
Oliver opened the door before I could even take a breath, tugging me in by my hips. 
He had my back pressed up against the door, one of his spare hands already holding the base of my throat like a goddamn rosary. His dark eyes stared down at me, hungry, like he was about to consume every inch of my flesh. I went to say something, brows already lifted on my face in their devious position. In the process, my hands fished for him, grabbing at his shirt.
In one easy moment, Oliver grabbed both of my wrists, stretching my arms up and above my head. He squeezed my throat, ensuring my eyes were on his. My back arched from the movement, my chest pushing through the air as a small whine escaped my lips subconsciously. 
Oliver drug his eyes down my body, smirking pleasedly at the movement he drew from my body. “We have five minutes. Shut the fuck up and be a good girl for me, yeah?”
“Okay.”
We weren’t really being realistic about how much time we would get together.
Two minutes later, Oliver was on his knees below me, his large hands bruising either one of my thighs, my hands were entangled in his hair, my underwear were somewhere far across the room, and his breath was ghosting my core. Just as he inched painfully, teasingly closer, someone was knocking on his door. 
It was my turn to hide as Adam and Cyrus ushered Oliver from his hotel room, excitedly telling him about some new song they’d just heard. After ensuring in the bathroom mirror that I didn’t look disheveled, I watched through the peephole as they neared the elevators. Oliver peered over his shoulder, the smallest of smiles on his lips. I rolled my eyes. Of course he’d find it funny- he was winning again. 
Then, when the hallway seemed clear, I quickly left his room and tried to casually make my way down to the dining room.
Oliver was trying not to laugh, I just knew it- his lips were pressed together, a humored look in his eyes as he pretended to be occupied with the potatoes he mashed around with his dinner fork. I glared at him as I approached the table. 
Then, Sam was talking to me, asking me and Max about our busy day and I had to pretend like their best friend hadn’t just been on his knees for me. 
This was killing me. 
-
Surely, I thought to myself as dinner came to a close and everyone began heading to bed, surely we would find the time. Surely our luck wasn’t that bad. We’d get some time alone- we just had to. 
So, as the elevator that Sam, Ronnie, and I caught closed, and carried us to the fifth floor, I quickly texted Oliver. I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping, praying, wishing this would work. 
Daisy: soon as Sam goes to bed, i can be over
A heavy heat of anticipation sat right on top of my chest, shooting off butterflies in my stomach, making me breathless when I said goodnight to Ronnie.
I waited, patiently, for about an hour- no, exactly an hour and ten minutes. I waited an hour and ten minutes for Oliver to text me back. I stared at the numbers in the top middle of my phone screen as I pretended to read a book. Then, when Sam lay down and shut off all the lights, I rolled onto my side, the dim glow of my screen filling my corner of the room. My eyes glazed over numerous times while each little number morphed into the next. Slowly but painfully surely, the delightful anticipation began to dissipate. 
I really wanted to be chill, to be normal and casual and just…go to bed. Accept that maybe he had fallen asleep, maybe his phone had died. Pretend like there wasn’t a small hole sinking in my stomach. 
But, I saw him begin typing forty minutes in. 
And then he stopped. 
And I still waited another half an hour for him to respond. 
He never did.
The next morning, I was able to forget about it. 
I focused on the productive conversation we’d had in the bus, the one where he set a boundary with me, where he told me he couldn’t really offer me much in terms of connection or romance. The one where I practically begged him to just have me in whatever way he could. 
And, I forced myself to stop worrying about the fact that he never responded. The world, after all, did not revolve around me. I needed to be reminded of that and have patience with him. Besides, I wasn’t going to allow myself to feel that- disappointment. Small bits of heartbreak. This meant basically nothing, right? We were just hooking up, hanging out. It wasn’t that big of a deal, like we discussed. 
I’m chill with that.  
I ate breakfast with the band, discussing with Ronnie some of the best tourist attractions that she suggested I seek out. Oliver was a little late this morning, feet dragging a bit. When I saw him round the corner to the dining room, I sat up just a bit. He seemed tired as he took a seat at the opposite end of the table, hoodie up, as per usual. He didn’t really touch any of his food, but instead nursed a cup of tea. So, I ignored the sinking feeling that came when he didn’t even look at me. 
He showed up. That’s what really mattered. 
I tried not to be distracted as Ronnie told me about some sort of monument, but it was a struggle when my concern for Oliver was as relevant as it was. There was just something off about him…and it almost felt like it had to do with us, with me. Or maybe I was just reading into things a little too much. Again. 
Everyone else finished up their breakfast before me. So, the group broke off before long, a few headed out the door to the venue, some up to their rooms to grab last minute items. I watched as Oliver straggled behind Adam and Cyrus, towards the elevators. When he first stood to follow them, I tried to meet his eye, tried to shoot him a reassuring, encouraging smile. He evaded my gaze. My shoulders dropped a little. 
When they were out of sight, I took my phone out and grappled with texting him. I felt like I should, just to see if he was okay. But, then, the part of me that knew there was nothing serious between us fought against that want. It wasn’t weird, right? If I texted him, just to see how he’s doing? 
But, then, come to think of it…he never even said good morning to me. So he probably just wanted to be left alone. I should probably just read the signs he was clearly giving and just provide him with some space. He didn’t need me up his ass at every waking moment, constantly expressing my concern for his every move. Especially not after the conversation we’d just had. 
I felt a little insecure, a little worried, going back over every interaction we’d had like I was responsible for a grown man’s feelings. I pushed aside the overthinking my brain was ruminating on and decided to just get up, to just get started with my day. 
This thing between us was not going to work out if I overanalyzed his every breath, if I let it all get to me. I needed to chill out- just be chill. Cool. 
I headed for the elevators, purse slung over my shoulder. The doors were already opened, so I stepped inside. When I faced forward, Oliver was there, following me in, my name barely a greeting off his lips. 
“Daisy…”
“Oliver, hey-”
He interrupted me, lips on mine before I could even take a breath. I was taken aback, just briefly, before getting swept up in his soft touches, his hungry mouth. My purse slid off my shoulder. Oliver’s fingers caressed my cheek, my hip, pushing into me until my back was against the wall. 
We kissed until the bell dinged, signaling that the doors were opening up to our floor. Oliver pulled back, quickly distancing himself from me. His chest heaved a little, out of breath from our encounter. His pupils were shot, wide, blown up. I furrowed my eyebrows as I carefully eyed him. I was trying to read between the lines here, but I couldn’t. 
And he was gone before I could ask for any answers from him. 
-
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, rubbing moisturizer into my freshly clean face. Taylor Swift was playing softly on my phone, a subtle soundtrack to my evening routine. It had been another long day of perusing across Europe. My feet ached from the 10 miles I’d walked,  my stomach was full from the delicious dinner I caught on the way home, and my brain was buzzing with all of the sights and sounds I’d taken in. I was going to cherish these evenings for the rest of my life. 
I had even managed to stop worrying about Oliver, had let the pitiful racing thoughts that had been taking up space in my mind fall away. I was going to be cool about it. I was going to be the chill, casual girl. 
What we had, what we were doing, was just hooking up. We hadn’t explicitly agreed on keeping any strings to ourselves, but Oliver had told me he couldn’t really offer any in the first place. And that was okay! It’s not like I needed to be in a relationship anyways. I was going back to school in the fall and I’d probably, honestly, never even see him again after this summer. 
Casually hooking up with someone would probably be good for my development, anyways. It would teach me to become more comfortable with my body, to be more patient, to be more understanding. To just chill the fuck out, honestly.  Yeah, I’d totally gotten rid of those racing thoughts…ha. 
Anyways, even though I wanted to text him, to see what was going on, to see if he was okay, I just wasn’t going to. I was gonna tuck myself into bed, get a goodnight’s rest, and prepare myself for another long day. Focus on me, my happiness, my health. 
My plan was going well, too. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Then, at around midnight, I woke to my phone buzzing on my nightstand. 
I lazily brought the device to my ear, murmuring some sort of greeting through half-lidded eyes. “Hello?”
“Come over.”
“What- hello? Oliver?” I sat up in bed, a little jolted by the situation. I spoke in hushed whispers, eyes on Sam’s figure to ensure that he was passed out still. 
Oliver’s voice replied in an exhausted tone, “I can’t sleep. Come over.”
I took my sweet time, not wanting to seem desperate, not wanting to be at his beck and call. I pulled a hoodie down over my torso before slipping out of the room. I guided the door shut, flinching when it clicked a little louder than expected. Once I was sure the hall was clear, I headed towards Oliver’s door.
He must have been watching from the peephole, waiting for me to arrive, because as soon as I made it, the door was open and he had his hands on me again. His touch was more desperate than ever before, fingers harsh, tongue rough. 
I could barely gasp for air as he gorged on my lips, overfeeding himself. I was growing more concerned for his mental health, considering it seemed like he was displacing whatever he was feeling onto me. I probably already knew what was going on- the stress of the tour, of making the next album, it was all getting to him. 
He barely had any time to himself anymore, barely had any chances to breathe, to execute self care. He was overworking himself. He was just exhausted. 
I felt guilty kissing him, touching him. It felt exploitive and dirty.
So, when his hands traveled down my body, up under my hoodie, to my pants, I brushed them off of me. I took a big step away from him, reaching out my own touch to keep the distance between us.
“Oliver-” I took a deep breath, trying to ground my dizzy head.
His eyes were bloodshot. He hadn’t tasted like alcohol, so I assumed he must be high. Or he had been crying. I didn’t really know which one. 
Whatever exhaustion pooled in his gaze dissipated as it was replaced with worry. He took a small step towards me, palms out in a wary manner. “I’m so sorry- what is it? Are you okay, darling? What did I do?”
My jaw was a little slack, concern drowning my features and tone. “No, no- nothing! Sorry- nothing! You’re good. We’re good. I promise.”
He breathed a sigh of relief as his shoulders slumped a bit forward. “Thank fuck. I thought I hurt you or something.”
“I mean you were being a little rough, but that’s okay,” I managed a breathy chuckle.
Oliver ran hand through his hair, glancing around the room, to his feet, back to me. “Why’d you stop, then? Everything okay?”
“I’m fine,” I emphasized, “I’m more worried about you.”
Oliver sighed, loudly, posture dropping a bit more. He wiped his face as he looked away from me again. “Why?” He sounded annoyed with me. 
“I’m not gonna pry, cause I know it’s not my business, but…”
“It’s not,” he cut me off. 
I reared my chin back. I thought carefully, choosing my words delicately, as I crossed my arms over my chest, “I know. I know it’s not my business. I just- just want-”
“What?” He spoke impatiently. 
“Just want to make sure you’re okay.”
Oliver didn’t respond. He stared at the floor beside my slippers, as though he could bore a hole with his eyes, sink into it, and slip away from this moment. I looked past his head. I didn’t want to pressure him with pervasive eye contact. 
Then, after a minute or two, I heard him sniffle. I still didn’t move too much, but ran my eyes over his face. He wiped away a few tears. Oliver bit into his bottom lip, which wobbled around a bit. He didn’t want to give into the emotions overwhelming his nervous system, but he was going to have to.
I couldn’t hold myself away from him any longer. He needed connection, touch, gentleness. So, I walked right up to him and hugged him, tugging his head down into the crook of my neck. I felt his arms squeeze my entire self into him, like an anchor at his shores, calming his seas. 
For the next twenty minutes, we stood there, my heart sitting just underneath his own, beating into one another. He didn’t really cry too much, probably unwilling to. I didn’t like to cry in front of others either. It was vulnerable, too vulnerable. 
We just hugged each other. I caressed my fingers through his hair, hoping to soothe him, to provide solace. He just squeezed me back, tight as ever. It felt really good. I wasn’t going to pull away first, but he eventually did. 
He let out one of those embarrassed laughs, wiped the tears clean off his cheeks, and moved to sit on the bed. I offered a kind smile, but still didn’t say anything. He would come to me with whatever was on his mind whenever he felt ready to. 
“Sorry…about- that. Probably, uh- probably weird.”
“Not at all,” I waved him off, moving slowly towards him. 
He looked up to me, his palms resting on the edge of the bed, and motioned for me to sit. I did. 
“I’m just…just tired,” he shrugged. 
I knew it was more than that. I knew that he harbored a lot of negative feelings towards himself, something he had confirmed for me just last week. He held himself up to a crazy standard and, of course, never met those expectations. No human being ever could. 
I wouldn’t convince him of this fact, not in just one moment together. But, I could tell him one thing that he probably needed to hear. Something he’d value and treasure for longer than just a moment. 
“I’m proud of you,” I spoke softly, turning my head to meet his eyes. 
He didn’t say anything. He just swallowed, rubbed his lips together, thought long and hard. Then, he glanced away, brought his eyes back to mine and nodded, just once. I saw the words slot themselves into his mind, stored away for just him to hold onto. I knew he valued my opinion, so even though it wouldn’t fix his issues, it would provide some support. Support was the only way to get to recovery, to healing. 
Oliver set his hand on mine, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “When I first met you, you told me you were trying to discover life this summer. To find deeper meaning. The more I get to know you, the more I disagree with that.”
“Oh?” I furrowed my brows. “And why’s that?”
“It’s just not accurate,” he shrugged, “you have so much meaning. You’re…you’re so sweet. And kind. And intentional with everything you do. You put so much goodness out with even just your gaze. I just…”
I stared up at him with, I’m sure, these big dopey eyes. Words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I really like you, Oliver.”
He frowned slightly as he brought a hand to my face, thumb brushing the apple of my cheek. I searched his eyes and couldn’t find the answer needed for what I had said. So, the distant smile on my face twisted upside down, worry lacing my features. Had I gone too far? 
“I know, darling,” was all he said. 
Moments of silence passed between us. 
I knew he couldn’t give me much, but maybe now that my feelings were out there, clear as day, written in the sand, maybe it would help him feel more secure about whatever this was. Maybe he’d jump in with me. After all, I was scared, too. Hell, as of this morning I wasn’t looking for a relationship. But- we could be good together. He could be good for me. I know I would be good for him. 
Maybe we could l-
“I don’t know that I communicated this to you well enough,” Oliver went on. 
“It’s okay…”
Oliver glanced away, seemingly ashamed of whatever he was gonna say. “I can’t be in a relationship with you, Daisy. I just…I’m not good. I’m not ready. I don’t want to hurt you. I think you deserve better. We’re on different paths- I have a million excuses.”
I don’t know how I managed to avoid the tears because I could feel them threatening me from behind my eyes. But, I did. I put on this facade, acted out the role. Stood, nodding slowly, painting a sweet smile on my face.
“It’s okay. I understand. I’ll just…I’m gonna leave,” I headed for the door.
But, Oliver was grabbing my hand. “I don’t want you to. I know it…it’s so selfish of me, but I want you anyways. We have two more months before you have to go home- so who says we can’t just be casual, have fun for the rest of summer? I’d…I know I can’t ask that of you, but…I’d like that.”
I would hate him for this. I would hate myself for it, too. 
But, having pieces of him was better than nothing. 
I could push aside my feelings- fuck, I was already getting good at it. 
I would be the cool girl, even if it killed me.
Even if it killed us. 
77 notes · View notes
unique-high · 7 months
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Hey gurrl I'm new to your blog I absolutely love you stories and was wondering if I could ask one for cha eunwoo I can find an blk female book on him and it frustrating 😭😭
Well the company there are in is hybe
Cha eunwoo is a well established idol and actor while yn is still a trainee that eunwoo fell in love with and as been flirting with but she is an oblivions person so until he told her before she knew. Cha eunwoo age same as current while since yn is a trainee I would say 18
Soo sorry for the long ass quest😘🙏🏾
a/n: omg sorry it took me forever to freaking get to this! Please forgive me. I wrote this in one night so I didn't have much time to check for grammar so I'm deeply sorry for any mistakes.
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Eunwoo waits for you after practice. Every day. Always at the door. He waits. The other trainees would playfully poke fun singing KISSING the nursery rhyme as they walk out giggling passing the older male. You're sweaty, your limbs feel like jelly and a tired smile smoothes onto your face every time you see Eunwoo. And damn he loves your smile. It reminds him of the early days of summer when the weather still felt a little nicer.
Sometimes you and Eunwoo didn't need to speak. There was that silent talk that said more. When his eyes said more too but you never notice the way he looked at you. The little pleading behind his dark eyes for you to look at him a little longer and the little hint of love hidden in his irises for you to find.
There's a close enough space between you and Eunwoo as you walk beside him. He intentionally lets the back of his hand brush against yours, just that brief moment of skin-to-skin contact was enough for him though he craved more than that.
“Practice go well?”
“I kept getting the steps wrong again and the teacher scolded me.” you pouted.
Eunwoo pets your head. “Do you want to practice with me?”
He knew the dance by heart. He sometimes watched in on you and other trainees to see how you were progressing.
“Oh...No I know you're super busy preparing for your new drama. I don't want to bother you."
“You won't be,” he said. “You just need someone to fully break everything down to you.”
“Thanks. I'd really appreciate that.”
For you, Eunwoo doesn't mind doing things like this even if his schedule is going to be super busy. He can always make the time for you.
Eunwoo took you to your favorite cafe, down the street from the company's building. Instead of you ordering for yourself, Eunwoo orders for you, knowing your drink combo by heart.
You never had any real friends growing up, even with the other trainees you've been with for almost a year, you still weren't sure if you could consider them friends. But with Eunwoo, you consider him to be your best friend. You and he did the things best friends do, talk in the way best friends do, send TikTok videos back and forth, with “Lol this reminds me of you.” or “This is so us.”
Eunwoo pays for your drink like he always does. And you would shove your money at him to take it. He never does. He's a good friend.
It's when you're both sitting outside the cafe, enjoying the nice weather that Eunwoo is staring at you, watching you drink from your cup. He's staring so long that you become a little insecure.
You choke on a laugh asking, “W-Why are you staring?”
“Staring?” Eunwoo's thick dark brown cock's up.
“Yeah...At me.”
“I'm not starting.”
“You're doing it now.”
“I'm not.” Then he looks away down at his drink while folding the corners of a white paper napkin that's under his cup. “You, um... You look really pretty today.”
You laughed. He expected that. Your voice carries with the slight breeze that pushes by. “I'm not.” You said. “And after sweating all day, I'm surprised you don't think I smell.”
You raise your arm to get a whiff of yourself. Not so bad.
Eunwoo lets himself look at you. But don't full-blown stare at you. He tries to focus on the small things on you; like the yellow mustard stain on the front of your baby blue crop top that you tried your hardest to clean after lunch, then he looks at the lavender scrunchie on your wrist that he gave you back in April, you always wore it as good luck. He looks at the baby hairs on your arm. Then lastly, at the scar on your chin, you had gotten when you were five from your older cousin.
“Even after practice, you're still pretty,” he said.
Now that you think about it. This was Eunwoo's first time calling you pretty and you weren't sure why that coming from him made you feel like you were dancing on your tippy toes.
“You never called me pretty before.”
But he has a billion times in his head.
“Y/n, just accept my compliment.” he smiles. Of course he wanted to move along with the whole pretty thing because damn he wouldn't be able to explain why he thought you were pretty.
Or maybe he could. Or maybe he couldn't.
If someone were to ask him to name the five things he thought were pretty about you, he'd say, “Five isn't enough.”
“Why am I suddenly pretty?” You pressed him playfully.
Eunwoo rips the corner of the napkin under his drink, balls it in a tiny ball, and throws it at your face.
“Did I say pretty?”
“You did.”
“Hmm, I think you misheard me.”
“I didn't.”
“I think you did.” he laughs.
“Why are you denying it now?”
“Denying what?”
“That you called me pretty?”
“Did I call you pretty?”
“Eunwoo, stop messing with me,” you whined.
He winks at you getting up from the table and grabbing his cup and napkin. “I always thought you were pretty. I just never dared to actually say it out loud.” he walks away from the table.
You hop up grabbing your cup as you rush alongside Eunwoo. Slapping your hand out over his forehead, you checked for a fever.
“No fever,” you mumbled. Your hand fell away. “Do friends usually find their friends pretty?”
“Yeah, all the time,” Eunwoo said.
Yeah, but calling your friend pretty while you were in love with them was a different kind of pretty.
“Oh,” you said. You threw your cup in a trash can and so did Eunwoo.
“I think you're just as pretty.”
Eunwoo's face warms up. “D–Don't say that.”
“It's true though. Like your visuals are killer.” You gushed over him and damn, that made him want to stop walking and kiss you.
The walk back to the company was short. Your day wasn't over yet since you had vocal practice in the evening that lasted way later than you wanted to. You and Eunwoo linger in the company's lobby for a few minutes, just talking.
“I want to tell you something before you go,” Eunwoo said.
“Oh, What is it?”
Eunwoo looks around at the few people walking through the lobby, he grabs your hand pulling you to a more private area without listening ears. His heart beats a little faster. His hands get a little sweaty. His words are a little stuck now.
“I like being your friend.”
“Eunowoo, I like being your friend too!” you smiled up at him. And that man could have melted in his shoes.
“Being friends is nice, but I don't think I want to be friends anymore,” he said quietly.
“Did I do something wrong?” There's a creak in your voice.
Eunwoo cups your face with his warm hands that burn at your cheeks. “Of course not, Y/n.”
“Then why don't you wanna be friends anymore?”
“Because....” he paused. “I want something more with you than just a friendship.”
“What do you mean?”
Eunwoo playfully rolled his eyes. “I want us to be together.”
“We're together now.”
He laughs. “No, like I want us to be together together.”
“As in....” You trailed off.
“Boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Ooooh like that.” you smiled warmly.
“Yeah. Like that,” he said. “I've always been in love with you.” it's the way he says it that felt like a soft landing.
“You have?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“Since when?”
“The first time you smiled and said hello to me.”
Falling in love with you had been easy. You made it easy for him without even knowing it.
“Oh, god, not that time when I had a milk mustache.” You made a funny face that made Eunwoo laugh.
“Yeah, that time.” That was his favorite little memory of you.
You took Eunwoo by surprise when you stood on your tippy toes and kissed him. Your kiss felt like heaven, like it was the sweetest thing, your lips perfect against his, and he could kiss you every day for hours, if that's even possible.
He kissed you back, his lips moving with urgency, like if he didn't kiss you enough or make it deeper enough you would just disappear. You feel his lips pulled into a smile.
“I love you, Y/n.”
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justmystyles · 11 months
Note
hi there !! so i have a bit of a heavy request for you.
could you maybe do a hurt / comfort with harry where he finds out you’ve self-harmed and he comforts the SHIT out of you?
been going thru a bit of a rough patch lately , i hope this isn’t too much :)
have a good day lovely!!
Scars
check out my other works!
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
word count: 2.2k
summary: can harry be the comfort you need after falling back into old habits?
warnings: self-harm
a/n: so i woke up to this ask first thing this morning, i usually stay away from heavy topics like this, just because they require a special amount of care, and i don't know that i can do them the justice they deserve. but i was so moved that this lovely anonymous user asked me to help them through thier rough patch that i got to work on it immediately.
anon - thank you so much for asking me to help you through this time. i know we don't know each other, but if you ever need someone to talk to, i am right here. and that goes for any of you. i know i'm new here, and just a faceless username on a website, but i am always happy to be a listening ear, or do whatever i can to be there for you.
tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @n0vaj3an @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
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You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at your bare torso as you ran your fingers along the fresh marks. It had been years since you’d found yourself in this place, and you were silently cursing yourself for getting here as the tears streamed down your face. 
The first time this happened, it was a complete accident. You had been so frustrated at something or other, you honestly couldn’t remember the initial catalyst at this point, that you had clenched tiny crescent shapes into your palms. As you watched the blood emerge, you felt a sense of calm. At least this pain was tangible. If you were going to be hurt, you wanted to at least see it. So that’s what you did. 
For a long time after that, when life became too much, when you were feeling alone or misunderstood, you would mark yourself. You always knew it wasn’t the best way to handle things, but it gave you a sense of control you didn’t otherwise feel you had in your life. 
You were usually pretty good at concealing the scars. Tucking them away the same way you did with your emotional struggles. Until you were asked to be a bridesmaid in your cousin’s wedding. The dress was gorgeous, your cousin knew about your body image struggles, and took the utmost care to find something that would be flattering for you, something you would be comfortable in. And then you tried it on, unprepared for the slit that went up to your mid-thigh, showing off your collection of scars. Nobody said anything at the fitting, even though they all noticed. A few days later, your cousin spoke to you privately, and you broke down, telling her everything. She was incredibly supportive, and worked with you to make sure you got the help you needed. 
But here you were, years later, feeling like that sad, scared girl from all those years ago. You weren’t sure how it escalated to this point, you had been through a rough couple of weeks at work. Late hours, nonstop meetings, more criticism than praise. Your family were all so busy with their own lives that you barely had the chance to speak with them. And then there was the one person that was supposed to be your rock, Harry. 
Harry was incredible. You had never felt so loved, so cared for. You still remember the first time you showed him your scars, and told him about your past. He listened with rapt attention, tears pooling in his eyes. When you finished, all he could do was place soft kisses to each of your scars, muttering apology after apology and promising to protect you from ever feeling that much pain again. 
But he was on the other side of the world right now, he couldn’t be there for you in the way you needed. Between the time difference and your busy schedules, you felt like the two of you were merely pen pals. It wasn’t his fault, this was his job. You knew that, it was what you had signed on for when you started seeing him. That didn’t make you feel any less alone though.  
You were startled out of your thoughts by your doorbell. You furrowed your brow as you checked the time on your phone. Who would be bothering you this late? You splashed some water on your face to hide your tears, and grabbed your shirt off the towel rack, throwing it on before moving to the door. 
You left the chain on the door, opening it a sliver to see who was on the other side. The moment you were met with Harry’s sparkling green eyes and wide smile, the tears made their return. You stood in silence, the door partially opened as your brain tried to process that he was here, standing at your door. 
“I think I’ve successfully proven I’m not a nefarious stranger, think you could let me in now?” He joked. 
You closed the door just long enough to remove the chain before opening it wide, sniffing and wiping your eyes as you took him in, really took him in. Before you could react, he had charged over the threshold, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck. “I missed you, angel.” He murmured against your skin as his lips left soft kisses against you. 
“I missed you too,” you say as you pull back. He looks at your tear stained face, bringing his hand up to wipe the wetness away. “But what? Why? How?” You’re at a complete loss, he wasn't supposed to be back for another week. 
Harry chuckled at your flustered state, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “I was able to get things wrapped up early, so I’m here to surprise you.” 
After a few more hugs and whispered I missed yous, the two of you got settled on the couch, turning on the television for background noise as you caught each other up on the past few weeks. 
Once he had gushed about the projects he had been working on, and you had shared some minor details about your world, you got settled in his arms and the two of you started watching television, just enjoying the feeling of being with each other again. 
As the evening went on, Harry’s hand absentmindedly traveled under your t-shirt, stroking the skin on your hip before moving around and running up your stomach. You were half asleep, the comfort of being in his arms making you forget your actions from earlier in the day, so you didn’t register what was happening until he softly said your name in a questioning tone. You hummed in response. 
“What happened here?” He stroked over the marks once more. 
Your eyes went wide and you sat up, pulling your shirt down to ensure he couldn’t see anything. “Nothing.” 
“Y/N,” Harry said in a gentle warning tone. He reached for the hem of your shirt, but you scooted away from him on the couch. “Please?” His tone was less of a warning and more of a plea this time. 
You took a deep breath and lifted your shirt, holding the hem just below your bra line. Harry’s eyes went wide at the sight, running a finger down your stomach as tears immediately began to pool in his eyes. “Y/N, these are fresh.”
You open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a guttural sob. All of the pain, loneliness, everything from the past few weeks being released at once. Harry is on you in an instant, wrapping you in his arms allowing you to cry against his chest as he strokes your hair and holds you for as long as you need. You both know this is something you will need to discuss, but you’re also in no state to have that conversation right now. 
“Shhh,” Harry coos. “It’s alright baby, I’m right here. Let it all out.” He holds you tighter, wanting to make sure you knew he was there, and he wasn’t going anywhere. His own tears begin to fall as he continues to listen to your wails, and feel your body shake against his. 
The only words spoken for the remainder of the night are Harry’s assurances to you that he’s there, and that he’s got you. Eventually, the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms on the couch. 
The next morning, you stretch your body as your hand comes to your eye, wiping the sleep away. You can feel that your face is still puffy from your tears, your head pounding. You look around and see that you’re alone. You stand from the couch and head out in search of Harry. You immediately hear the sizzle of a frying pan and make your way into the kitchen to see Harry’s back to you as he stands over the stove. 
“Harry?” Your voice is raspy and low. 
He turns immediately, greeting you with a sad smile as he takes you in. “Hey baby.” He steps up to you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips before bringing his hand up, brushing your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Go sit at the table, alright? Breakfast is almost ready.” 
You nod and take your seat, watching as Harry disperses the scrambled eggs from the frying pan to two plates that are already stacked high with pancakes. He brings them over, placing one in front of you, and the other at the setting beside you. He then goes to the refrigerator, pulling out a bowl of fresh fruit, putting it between the two of you. 
“Juice?” He asks, wanting to make sure you have everything you need before he sits down. 
“Um… water please?” He nods, kissing the top of your head before going back to the refrigerator and getting you a glass of water. 
When he returns, he takes his seat beside you and the two of you eat in silence, Harry occasionally reaching over to squeeze your thigh gently. His way of reminding you that he is there. You know a conversation is coming, but you don’t dare speak first, hoping to put it off for as long as possible. 
Once you have finished eating, Harry clears the plates, putting them in the sink for later. He comes back to your side, taking your hand as he sits. “Baby,” he says softly, searching your eyes. “What happened?” You shake your head, dropping your gaze to the floor, he immediately slides his finger under your chin, bringing your eyes to his. “Talk to me. Please.”
You feel a lump in your throat when you hear the desperation in his voice. “I’m sorry.” You choke out. 
“Hey hey hey,” he moves his hand from under your chin to cupping your cheek. “Don’t be sorry, you have nothing to apologize for. I just want to help you. But I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.” 
You close your eyes, leaning into his touch and take a deep breath. The warmth of his hands on yours gives you the push you need to start. You tell him everything, all the things that have gone wrong over the last few weeks. The overwhelming feelings of hurt, loneliness, inadequacy. It feels so good to get it off your chest. You look at Harry as you speak, and you see no judgment in his expression, you know that he’s taking in everything you’re saying, and that his brain is working overtime to figure out how he can fix it, how he can make everything better.  
Once he’s sure you’re finished, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his lap placing soft kisses along your jaw. “Baby, I wish you had told me. No good can come from keeping this all to yourself.” 
“You were busy. I didn’t want you to worry about me.” You wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his neck.
He tilts his head, pressing a kiss against your temple. “Angel, no matter what I’m doing I am never too busy for you. I want to be here for you for everything, the good and the bad. We’re a team, right?” He feels you nod against his shoulder, he places his hands on the sides of your neck, pulling your face back to look at him. “I need to hear you tell me, baby.”
“We’re a team.” You say softly. 
“That’s right,” he brings your face to his, kissing you softly on the lips before kissing away the tears that had fallen. “One of the things I love most about us, about you, is that I know that no matter what is happening I have you. I can run anything by you at any time. Right?” You nod in agreement. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if everything was one sided like that? I came to you with my stuff, and you just took it on while also managing your own, all by yourself.” 
“I don’t want to be a burden on you.”
“Y/N Y/L/N, you are anything but a burden. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He assures you confidently. “Just you saying that proves how selfless and giving you are. But in order to take care of me, and everyone else who loves you, you need to properly take care of yourself.” 
You nod in understanding. “Thank you.”
“No my love, thank you.” He said with a soft smile. “Thank you for trusting me with your heart. I promise you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing, if you pick up that phone and tell me that you need me, I am going to do everything in my power to give you whatever you need. Okay?” 
“Okay.” 
He pulls your face to his, kissing you deeply. Enough to feel all of the love that he has for you. He doesn’t just want to tell you how much you mean to him, he wants to show you. When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “Do you want me to run you a bath? I think you could use some relaxation.” 
“Will you stay with me?” 
“Of course, my love. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” 
346 notes · View notes
desceros · 5 months
Note
Re: ableism w/Symphony Donnie: Definitely some internalized ableism but I think that’s unfortunately due to not many people knowing what exactly neurodivergence looks like and how people with it processes things differently.
Like, honestly, my biggest gripe was the recording and even that, for the SPECIFIC context of this story and Donnie as a character, it makes sense. Does it make it right? No, but if Donnie never had to think about these things before, for him it’s the same as recording everything to protect his family. Just something he does.
Also, even though my heart broke with Reader’s at her realization, MULTIPLE times reader has said Donnie says what he means and even at the beginning with the “I like you” thing I was like, “Girl, I’m going to need you to define the relationship with him.”
And I think, with Leo, even when writer’s do write him as neurodivergent, what I’ve read always has him as the he better masker whether it’s explicitly said or not. Idk if Symphony Leo is neurodivergent or not but STILL, reader has picked up that he’s good with masking which usually comes off as charming or “easy breezy beautiful cover girl”.
Idk, maybe because I know a lot of people like Donnie irl but if anything I was more frustrated at the obvious miscommunication between both of them than him directly, because as reader said, she projected her feelings on to him when he’s been super direct with his intentions.
Basically, there are sometimes where I wish people would just realize that processing the same thing between two people doesn’t always look the same and that one isn’t necessarily bad.
well-said, anon-chan!
edit: this got SPOILER!! HEAVY!! for chap. 22 and also soooo long so i'm going to tuck it under a cut. but here's some meta on symphony to explore this a bit since it's something that's very important to me and also... pretty critical to the fic itself! i don't typically like explaining myself outside of the text and letting the fic itself speak but. hm. i suppose i shall let it slide for today!
as you all have hopefully noticed by now, as an author, i like to be. hm. more subtle with things. i prefer to tuck things away versus having things be blatant in the text. and this is kind of coming back to bite me a little with donnie and his neurodivergence, i suspect.
i've tried pretty hard to make it contextually obvious that donnie's autistic. i've all but used the word. the way he behaves and communicates is heavily autism-coded.
meanwhile, the story is from viola-chan's pov, and she's neurotypical-coded (well. as much as i, an adhd-riddled autistic cat in a trenchcoat can manage).
as a result, she doesn't... pick up on donnie's problems with communication. not right away. but here, in this chapter, we see where she finally figures out what their issue has been the entire time:
…Oh. Oh god.  He really doesn’t get it. You’d known, of course, that Donnie wasn’t great with people. That he doesn’t communicate well. He doesn’t pick up on cues, or use them himself. No wonder he’s always so frank in his language, you realize. No wonder he’s so comforted by the firm rigidities of science. No wonder he looked so lost. No wonder he was so perplexed.
then, she puts that into practice by being specific and precise with how she talks. and we see that she now knows how to communicate with him in a way that works for both of them. and it works for them:
God; it’s like—a breath of fresh air, you think, staring at him in a little bit of awe. It’s so easy to talk to him, now that you’re just… letting it all out. Being honest. Frank. Infuriating that you hadn’t done this earlier. Feeling your irritation deflate, you nod. “…Okay. You just—need an explanation. Clarification.” “Yes, please,” Donnie gushes, fretting a little.
it's going to take some work. she still takes things he says personally and extrapolates past them (the whole "leo being an important person" thing). but she immediately nips it in the bud and is like. no. we're not doing that anymore. so, going forward, her relationship with donnie is one that's built on learning how to develop this open communication.
of course, it's not perfect, because they're human. donnie twisting her arm into still talking to him by calling in the favor is shitty behavior. a desperate bid to keep someone close that, for some reason, he can't imagine being without. not cool. the recordings of them having sex were shitty behavior to us, people who Know Better. but when violist-chan said 'hey, that's not cool, don't do that' and donnie was given a reason why not to, he just says ok. he might not understand ("but i record everything"). but he acknowledges that there's a concern there, and he agrees to be more conscientious in the future (having a consent sheet).
now then, let's look at leo's behavior in comparison.
donnie's biggest fault was that he didn't know to check in and make sure they were on the same page with everything. leo's fault, on the other hand, is purposeful, manipulative, and cruel. his open admission that he's been manipulating her from the beginning. manipulating donnie. lying to her.
to me, this is much, much worse than what donnie did. even knowing that at some point he starts developing friendly feelings towards her—and some of their interactions were indeed genuine!—i'm with violist-chan here. i'm not going to be digging through every one trying to parse out which ones were real and which ones were him being a dickhead. they're all tainted by the stain of betrayal.
also. because it has come up in a different ask that i will be publishing probably tomorrow bc of spoiler reasons: someone said something to the effect of 'why didn't he just not say anything? he could have taken that to his grave. how selfish'. i will remind you of a conversation between violist-chan and leo that happened in the previous chapter:
“Most of all, he’s honest,” you keep going, tangling your fingers together, staring down at the way they knot at your waist. “If he says something, I can take it at face value. There’s no hidden meaning. Nothing deeper. If he says something feels good, I know it feels good. If he says he likes something, he likes it. If he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it. If he asks for something, I don’t need to ask if he’s sure. He asks, so he’s sure. It—It’s a breath of fresh air. If I want to know what he’s thinking, really thinking, all I have to do is ask. And...”  [...] Leo’s still as stone for a few moments longer, looking at you like he’s trying to decide if he wants to say something; but finally he relaxes and comes back to you himself. Reaching out, he flicks your forehead, causing you to wince and rub at it.
i think... leo maybe wouldn't have ever said anything about it. but then you said this. how donnie matters to you because he's honest. there's nothing deeper with him. it's all at face value. you never have to worry about what he's doing, what he's thinking. and that i think... really messed with leo. because he knows he hasn't been honest with you. you can't trust what he says at face value. you do have to worry about what he's doing. and for you to say that that's the main thing you love about donnie—it messed with him. so, even though he knew it would jeapordize the relationship with you, even knowing he wanted to put this off for as long as he could, even though, even though, he decides he has to tell you. he has to come clean.
so even though it feels like shitty, selfish behavior... it's actually him trying to do right by her for a change. to conform to what she looks for in a relationship (both romantic and platonic). it just... didn't go over so well, predictably. most people don't like hearing that not one, but two of their most precious relationships were built on a foundation of misunderstandings or lies.
side note. i do headcanon leo as having adhd that primarily manifests itself as an inattentive form. i don't suspect it has much to do with his behavior here... save perhaps for some possible rsd being triggered when violist-chan is like 'ok actually go fuck yourself i'm out of here.' i don't find it particularly relevant to the discussion of ableism, in this context.
so anyway. long post aside. it's... interesting to me. to see people saying 'actually fuck both donnie and leo equally!!! bleh bleh bleh!!!!' i don't know that it's. hm. active ableism. i'm certainly not accusing anyone of the sort. but it is, at the very least, indicative to me that there are a lot of people who don't read into the text as deeply as perhaps i would like on certain character traits, if i had a magic wand to wave.
....and also perhaps just ableism, haha.
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candy8448 · 4 months
Note
Photo (for the one word prompt)
Used a fic idea i had since i basically joined this fandom but never wrote so i got carried away and wrote 1580 words 0.0
This fic idea came to me when playing totk for the first time when it first came out, i took a photo of the old champions photo and put it in the gallery of my new house
Get ready for some fluff! (From me? I know, shocking!)
Send me a one word writing prompt
"And this room, i actually made with you guys in mind... i didn't have space for full beds but those mattresses are a lot comfier than a sleeping roll. Sometimes i even prefered sleeping in here than in my own bedroom," imagining that i was still with you lot, he left out. Wild turned back to the chain as he finished showing them around his new home. Twilight glanced around, noting something,
"Where is the champions photo? I thought of all things you would want to bring, it would be that?"
Wild tried to hide his upset expression, "well, Zelda kept it... and she is the one with all the real memories of them... so its okay"
He tried not to think about losing the champions photo, but he couldnt help but think it was like loosing them all over again. Still, nothing would come from burdening the chain with his emotions.
---------------------
The next day, while Wild was out running errands, Legend burst into their shared room on the top floor, canvas and paints in his arms, dumping them on the table in the center of the room,
"We're painting him a new one."
"What?"
"You saw how sad he looked when he didn't have the champion's photo; we are repainting him a new one"
Warriors grinned at the vet, "wow, didn't know you were soft, collector."
That earned a glare, "You never know when you could lose someone, sometimes you need something to keep their memory alive, like a song, or a picture."
A few of them nodded in agreement.
"Right, who's doing what?" Time said as they all gathered around the table.
Wind's hand shot up first, "ooh, OOH! I can draw! Let me draw it!"
Legend looked at him, "okay, you do the sketch and i do the painting, BUT im gonna check over the sketch before we're done" ever the perfectionist.
Sky nudged Four, "bet we can make a pretty good frame eh?" Four grinned back and nodded, running off to find somewhere he could start.
Roles were assigned to each member: Four and Sky would work on a frame, Wind would sketch and Legend would paint, Warriors would find Flora and ask to borrow the original photo as reference, Time would also go with him to learn more about the champions, and finally, Hyrule and Twilight, having no artistic skill and being the closest to their cook would distract Wild until the painting was finished. It was a good plan, and they began too work.
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Legend and Wind sat in the top room all day, Wind was getting frustrated at how the sketch was just not looking right, Legend came to pull the pencil away,
"No you do it like this!" He said, rubbing out a piece of the drawing and sketching it on himself. Wind's eyes widened in understanding, and he grabbed the pencil again, fixing up other similar mistakes. Legend noted that the rito happened to look the best and he had to wonder if that was because it was the only race outside of hylians he had a lot of experience with. Wind noticed the same thing. He almost felt the spirit of the rito looking smug as he pridefully gloated on the others, and Wind giggled.
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"It's really nice you're doing this for him, i wasn't aware that he would feel upset that i kept the photo. I thought he would come and tell me if something was upsetting him," Flora said as they sat around the table in her own house in Hateno village. Warriors and Time had told Wild that they wanted to speak to her and Wild, being unsuspecting at the two 'leaders' of the group wanting to gather information, called Zelda over with the Purah Pad. She had teleported to them with the old Sheika Slate and Warriors couldn't help but gape at the glowing blue antlers and her purple and blue eyes. Zelda then proceded to take them to her house once they told her they wanted to speak to her in private, much to the displeasure of Wild, who wanted her nearby to make sure she was safe, not that anyone could blame him.
Time smiled at her, "well, hiding one's emotions do seem to come with the hero's spirit"
She nodded uncertainly.
Wars drew the girl's attention, "Can you tell us about the champions? Our friends Sky and Four would like to make a frame and were hoping to make it something special."
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Wild excitedly showed them around Tarrey town and was pulling Twilight and Hyrule along with him. When wild came running back to the house, Twilight first asked to have help with Epona, but because the house stable was already occupied, they had to go to the nearest stable. Hyrule also tagged along, hoping to use up time exploring once Wild's attention would eventually shift from horses to something else. Twilight was currently just following behind them, trying to catch up to the duo and making sure they didn't get hurt.
Wild had decided that it was a good idea to dive off the side of the town and into the water to reach the construction grounds. Twilight tried to stop him but the champion, as slippery as he is, got past him, already with his shirt off and shouting as he went down, followed by a massive splash that almost reached up to them. Twilight sighed and turned around, only to see Hyrule missing from his side. The traveler's laughter joined Wild's own as he knelt on the moving tracks platform and waved at him, Wild waving back as he swam to shore. Twilight sighed harder but smiled, at least his brother seemed in a better mood.
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Sky hummed to the rythm of Four's hammer hitting metal. The skyloftian had decided to join the smithy in the forge to spend time with him. The carving in his hands would theoretically slot into what four was making, the metal to hold the canvas in place and the wood for the details. Sky used what Warriors and the old man had relayed to them from Flora to create intricate markings which he hoped represented the champions. Four hammered away, joining his humming with his own layer to the tune until he stopped hammering and looked at his work, "how does that look?" He asked, sky stood up, halfing his unfinished piece nearby and comparing the two, looking at the but where the two would slide in together, "it looks great!"
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Hyrule excitedly dragged Wild to the top room by his arms. When the champion saw everyone in the room he looked confused, waiting for an answer. "We made something for you" Wind said, ushering him to the table.
Wild walked up to the table to see a canvas resting on it, one with a very familiar image. His breath hitched in his throat as he silently.
It was almost identical to the original image, the champions photo, but newer. Everone in the image looked perfect, careful strokes of paint marking out their individual features. Wild sniffled as he inspected the frame. Wood and metal worked into eachother. The metal sides of the frame had the words "champions ballad" indented in his hylian. The wooden sides had carvings, depicting the four regions the champions came from, it also had things which he knew the champions loved from his scattered memories. There were indentations of more things, and Wild wondered where they got this information from. The frame was detailed, he could also see where the wood and metal intertwined with one another. There were no carvings of the divine beasts, Wild noticed suddenly, no marks of duty; just six friends, together and happy.
Wild worlessly looked up at his traveling companions, and only now noticed the river of tears running down his face.
Twilight stepped forwards, offering Wild a tissue, "legend was the one who suggested we do this because we saw how sad you were about not having the original. He and Wind sketched and painted it. Wars and Time got the original image from Flora and learned about the champions for the details on the frame, which Sky and Four both made. Hyrule and I were distracting you so it could be a surprise"
Wild sniffed, happy tears overflowing him, "th-thank you guys, it really means a lot" his voice cracked, "i-um... can we take a new one? With all of us? If you dont mind" he stuttered.
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Flora held the Purah Pad, looking through the lens. She called out, telling everyone to move around and making sure they were in shot, "Time, move down, yeah like Warriors, you might not be that tall but you are still out of shot" laugheter errupted out of the others, the old man deadpanned before his face returned to his smile. Flora decided to take advantage of everyone's laughing faces, "Ready?" She giggled, borrowing Purah's iconic phrase "Click-" Twilight grinned mischieviously, "-snap!" And pulled everyone in suddenly with his strong arms.
The image was put up next to the champions painting on the top floor where they all slept. Wild took a step back, smiling softly. Everyone had a mixture of shocked and laughing faces, Wild himself, in the middle with a beaming smile and a tear running down his cheek...
Ao3 (oneshot collection)
Ao3 (the fic on its own)
I have notes and headcanons featured in this fic in the end notes of both of the Ao3 versions
Hope you enjoyed! :)
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