#oh I'll just add the details in later | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

withleeknow · 9 days

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i think you'll do well with requests bc they seem to be popular in the fanfic side of tumblr! but even if it doesn't take off that quick, at least that'll be less overwhelming bc some ppl can be so demanding....anyways, i hope the best for you in this new journey haha 💝

me personally, i'm not very creative so i'll leave the details to the professionals (aka you) but i'd like to req something from minho's pov. i think those type of stories are SEVERELY lacking in the lee know fics department lol 🥲 it could be a childhood friends to lovers where he is pining for oc but he has a lot of self esteem issues and thinks she's not interested in him. also a big softie and just all around head over heels for her. you can add your magic! (if this is even remotely interesting enough to write lol i just want a minho pov tbh shsjjfjdjdj 😭)

light years.

summary: three times minho bites his tongue, and one time you don't let him.

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst; kissing, cursing, so much pining i could hurl. could this have been more edited? oh absolutely lmao but i actually don't hate it sooo this is what we're going with :p word count: 4.2k note: to the first anon, thank you so much for your kind words! :') and i'm sorry that this took me longer than expected. i was trying to figure out what i wanted to write for your prompt but then i got the second request with the song and i thought they would go nicely together hehehehe i hope the both of you enjoy thissss

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I'm not sure what it means to love But I blink kind of slow around you I'm not sure what it means to love But I'll grow wherever you do What that means, I don't have a clue

I'm Not Sure - Margeaux Beylier

One.

Minho is 18 years old, and he doesn't know what love is, doesn't really care for it at all.

While his friends are out there wrapped in the clutches of young love - the kind that blooms with stolen glances in classrooms and sticky notes passed in secrecy, Minho finds it simply unnecessary. He doesn't understand it whenever Hyunjin whines about not having a girlfriend because they're still young, they've got all the time in the world for romance later down the line. It's not the end of the world like Hyunjin laments it is.

Minho has his own life to prioritize. College is starting after the summer and he still needs to figure out how he's going to cope with the absence of his cats once he moves away. He's got dancing and he's got his other hobbies to keep him fulfilled and occupied.

And above all, he's got you.

You're getting ready for your sister's wedding when it happens for the first time. Or rather, when it doesn't happen.

You step back into the room where Minho is waiting for you on the sofa, his gaze resting idly on the screen of his phone, scrolling absentmindedly through his friends' group chat even though he has no interest in whatever they're talking about. You cough lightly to indicate your return after disappearing into the bathroom minutes prior to change into your dress. He looks up upon your soft announcement, and when his eyes settle on you, he swears it feels like an invisible force has collided with his chest and knocked all of the air from his lungs.

Throughout all his years of knowing you, inseparable from childhood until now, Minho has never seen you like this - all dolled up with your hair falling over your collarbones, cascading over your shoulders in soft waves that beckons him to run his fingers through. The light blue dress hugs you beautifully, the silky material catching the light from outside the window every time you shift on your feet under his steady gaze.

"So...?" you ask, moving your arms awkwardly behind your back like you're not sure what to do with them. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

Minho thinks you might just be the prettiest girl in the world. He thinks he must have been an idiot his whole life, to have spent most of his waking hours beside you and not once has he noticed how truly breathtaking you are. He thinks about the feeling that spreads in the pit of his stomach, sends warmth throughout his body and makes his heartbeat race a million miles an hours.

Your best friend blinks slowly as he savors the warmth that he's never experienced before. It's similar to the feeling you get when you're sitting under the shade of a big tree on a summer's day. It's comparable to the satisfied tranquility you get after you've just finished a hearty meal. A little hazy in your contentment.

It's not until you probe with a pointed Well? that Minho realizes he's been staring at you in silence for a few minutes now. He swallows thickly, willing away the words that he wants to say but they get lodged in his throat. He reckons it's weird to verbalize them, because it's not how the two of you function. You don't often utter that kind of sentiment out loud and he doesn't either. Never have and likely never will.

In the end, he bites his tongue. "You look presentable," is what he settles on.

You roll your eyes, then reward him with a laugh.

Minho doesn't care about love. He only cares about you.

Two.

Minho is 21 years old, and he's gotten used to his heart beating erratically whenever he's in your presence.

Three years flew by in the blink of an eye, and graduation is just around the corner. You've always done well in school, straight A student with a track record that most could only dream to have. You put in the hours, you do the work. You deserve everything that you've achieved.

But it's been a challenging few months for you both, being seniors and all. He's had to watch you struggle to stay on top of your classes while also having to slave over a thesis 24/7 until you were sure it was perfect. It reduced you to tears a few times, and Minho was there to hold your hand through it all.

He held you in his comforting embrace when you wanted to give up. He made you dinner when you were too immersed in your schoolwork to notice that you'd forgotten to eat. He was your biggest support system; if it weren't for him, you don't know if you would've made it through.

It's hot outside today, a little unbearable but not uncharacteristic for June. Minho waits in a familiar hallway, the same hall that he's walked past for hundreds of times over the past few years, the same hall that he won't see again once he holds a degree in his hands in only a few weeks' time.

As he sits on an old wooden bench, he bounces his leg as if he's one of the people in the classrooms that line the hall. He doesn't have to be on campus today, but here he is regardless because you're scheduled for your thesis defense this morning. You're in one of those rooms, probably also bouncing your leg from the overwhelming nerves. Minutes feel like hours; you went in there a while ago after he had sent you off with a pat on the head and an encouraging Godspeed.

He's nervous for you, but he's sure that you'll do great. Years of hard work accumulating in what must be the most important moment of your academic journey. You even stayed up all night last night, refusing to sleep a wink just to revise your arguments and talking points.

Minho's head snaps up instantly as he hears a door creak open, the sound of it reverberating throughout the empty hallway like a gong announcing your return from battle. It takes you a few seconds to step out of the room and into his line of sight. He can't see you very well with all this distance between you, but he can still make out the way your frame is visibly shaking with every step you take. He rises to his feet, and you break into a sprint.

He opens his arms wide - a hug of consolation or congratulations, he doesn't know yet - but he still can't seem to brace himself for the collision. You run straight into his embrace, your warms wounding around his middle tightly. Minho feels your tremors, hears your sniffles from where you're pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

"How did it go?" he asks gently.

You start crying then, and he doesn't know if the tears that his shirt is soaking up are those of joy or of grief, but he holds you through it anyway. He swears he can feel every single beat of your heart, hammering so wildly as you're pressed against him like you could sink into him if only you'd push just a little bit more.

"I passed," you say in between sobs. "I got an A."

Minho heaves out the breath that he's been holding ever since you entered that classroom, but it's not like he had any doubt about it to begin with. He hugs you tighter than he's ever had before, and he loves you just the same.

You two must look so dramatic, all wrapped up together in your own little bubble, but who the fuck cares? Although, when another student passes by and coughs, you do break away from him, a little embarrassed for a second.

Even with your hair all mussed up and your flushed cheeks stained with tears, he still thinks you look the same as you did when you were 18 at your sister's wedding. The prettiest girl in the world.

Minho wipes away the wetness on your face with his sleeves, then swipes with gentle thumbs at the moisture that's gathered along your lash lines.

"Holy fucking shit," you breathe out, your shoulders sagging with evident relief, so much more relaxed now that you've done it. "I can't believe it's finally over."

Your best friend can't entirely agree, because he's always believed in you. He's had faith in you since the beginning, since you were mere children laughing and crying together on the playground. You were meant to do great things, this was always crystal clear to Minho.

I love you, he thinks as he smooths a hand over your hair, his chest swelling with nothing but pride and fondness for you. You did so well.

But it's not what he ends up telling you. He swallows it down, washes it away with a dose of regret and longing. He's still not the type to express sappy sentiments, and he's grown accustomed to adoring you only in secret.

"Let's go," he says softly. "I'll buy you dinner."

Minho is still young, he's still got his whole life ahead of him, but he knows what love is now. He knows that it's you.

Three.

Minho is 24 years old, and he finds it hard to make peace with the fact that you're starting to get out there, that you're finally going on dates now that academics aren't taking up most of your time anymore.

To be fair, none of the guys you've seen have been graced with a second date, and Minho thanks his lucky stars whenever you return from a night out and text him a simple Not it. He knows that it wasn't your decision in the first place, that your mom and your sister have been setting you up on blind dates because they want to see you bring a boyfriend home.

You complain about it all the time, whining about how you're not interested but your family is adamant on it. Minho is well aware, and yet, there's a part of him that's a little shaken, because what if? What if the universe miscalculates and the stars misalign just enough in his misfortune for you to cross paths with someone who's absolutely perfect for you? Someone who's a good man that can give you what you've always deserved to have.

He really doesn't know what he would do if that happens. When it happens?

He doesn't know why you're here tonight either, sitting on a chair on the other side of his kitchen island in a pretty dress when you're supposed to be going on a date in half an hour. The guy apparently works for a big record label, some producer that your sister knows through a friend of a friend.

You look indifferent, kind of bored, as you watch Minho makes dinner for himself. "You seem miserable," he comments, taking a quick break from chopping vegetables to glance up at you. You do look a bit miserable, but you're still the most beautiful in his eyes.

You throw your head back and groan loudly, "Because I am. God, I don't know why they keep making me do this. These guys always give nothing."

"Please elaborate."

"They're all boring suits with tedious routines." you say, and as absentminded as your tone is, it sounds a little pointed to Minho's ears. "They don't make me laugh."

Do they not make you laugh, or do they not make you laugh more than I can?

"Then don't go," he snickers, though there's no humor in his voice at all. "These guys sound like duds. Just tell your sister to fuck off."

"Do you mean that? Do you really think I shouldn't go?"

And there's something in your gaze, something so suddenly expectant in the way you're looking at him that makes Minho wonder. If he says yes, would you listen? Would you stay here with him? Would you stay here for him?

I'm serious. Don't go. You can have this and I'll make myself ramyeon. Just be here with me.

You both stare at each other on either side of his kitchen island for an infinite stretch of time. He feels like your eyes are trying to tell him something that he can't decipher, as if they're sending him signals in a language that he never learned how to read.

For a second there, he indulges himself. He pretends that you're only asking because you want to hear him say it. That you want him to put up a fight and not let you go.

But he bites his tongue because it's become a bad habit. A habit that he can't shake because he simply doesn't have the courage to do so. Because if you stay here tonight, looking like that under the cozy lighting of his living room, he might just spill his secrets and he wouldn't be able to take it when reality comes crashing down and you end up telling him that you've never felt the same way.

"I'm kidding," he musters up the words, and tries to plaster on a smile for your sake, even though he's not sure if you really believe it. "You're dressed up anyway. Go and get a free fancy dinner, if anything."

Minho knows what love is, but his love has always lived in the shadows, his longing has only existed in the dark that it terrifies him just thinking about it meeting the light.

Four.

Minho is 26 years old, and he's been a coward for the better part of a decade.

Maybe he's loved you for even longer, but he has spent the past eight years head over heels in love with you, and not once has he done anything about it. Never been able to gather enough courage to ask you out, never even hinted at his feelings for you. He loves you from his place by your side and yet, you've never known.

He loves you the most, but he loves you in the worst way that a person can love another - he loves you in silence.

You're the prettiest girl in the world, and Lee Minho is a pathetic coward.

All these years, he's kept quiet and for what? There's always a spot reserved for him right next to you and yet, it feels like he can only watch you from the sidelines, far away from where it really matters, because he doesn't think he can fit into your life the way he truly wants. You taught him what love was, and love, to Minho, is unattainable. Something he can spend the rest of his life yearning for but won't ever have.

Love hurts. Sometimes, all love does is hurt.

"I would've taken you to a nice restaurant if you asked, you know," he says, putting a chocolate cupcake on the coffee table in front of you before he sits down next to you on the fluffy carpet of your living room. He pulls out a candle next, placing it right in the center of the sweet treat.

Your gaze follows his hand has he lights the candle, your eyes glinting with excitement as though you're a child again and your favorite day of the year is still your birthday. The tiny flame curves and bends, dancing to a rhythm that looks like only you can hear. You watch the candle like it's magic, while Minho just watches you, thinking the same thing.

He watches as you close your eyes and clasp your hands together for the theatrics, then you blow out the flame seconds later with a swift breath.

You turn to him with a smile, "I don't need a nice restaurant. This is perfect."

He blinks, and there's that warmth simmering in his belly again. He first felt it when he was 18, and he feels it now. He feels it almost every moment that he spends with you, and he reckons it's only reasonable, because you're his home personified and love can still be beautiful even when it hurts. There's his heart racing again, but that's nothing new to Minho.

He muses over your words. Perfect. Just one simple word is enough to get his hopes up in a way that it really shouldn't.

Your definition of a birthday well spent is in your cozy apartment, eating takeout pizza with your best friend. Perfect, to you, is him baking you a singular chocolate cupcake upon your request and being with him within these four walls, where his fingers occasionally brush yours when you sit next to each other.

Oh, Minho would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to.

He clears his throat lightly, breaking away from your gaze that's full of gratitude and childlike wonder. "What did you wish for?"

"I'm not gonna tell you. It won't come true then."

Wishes don't come true anyway, he thinks, but obviously he won't say it out loud to you, and on your birthday no less. Instead, he diverts his attention to the cupcake, subconsciously tonguing his cheek as he takes a small chunk of the sweet and offers it to you.

You let him feed you even though your eyes are narrowed. "What was that look?" you ask.

"What look?"

"You had a look."

"No, I didn't," Minho insists.

"Yes, you did. You wanted to say something, didn't you?"

He shrugs, popping a piece of cupcake into his own mouth. The answer is yes, he did want to say something, but if you want to get technical about it, then he's wanted to say something for years now. He asks you the same thing every birthday, What did you wish for?, and you would refuse to tell him every time.

"Wishes don't come true," he verbalizes it this time, with a voice that's lighthearted on purpose despite knowing that you wouldn't take it that seriously either way.

You roll your eyes. "Now you're just being pessimistic."

"What? I'm speaking from experience."

"You've never had a birthday wish come true?"

"My birthday wishes haven't come true since I was 18."

Minho feels your eyes on the side of his face, and when you remain quiet for a beat too long, he turns his attention back to you. "What?"

"How do you know they didn't come true?"

"Because..."

Because you've been my wish for almost a decade now. I didn't use to believe in wishes but I always believed in you. Every year, I wish for you to look at me the way I look at you, but it never comes true. Every year, I wish that you would love me back, not just as a friend, but you never do. You are my wish, but you're also the very reason why I know wishes don't come true.

Then he's laughing, but nothing is remotely funny about this. It's your birthday and suddenly all he can think about is how much it stings to be reminded that you're the only thing he'll ever wish for, and still, maybe this simple wish is absurd enough that the universe will never grant him what he truly wants.

"Never mind," he says. "This whole thing is silly."

There he goes, biting his tongue again. Coward.

"No, what were you going to say?"

"You're so bossy today," Minho pretends to complain.

"It's my birthday. Tell me," you press on, and suddenly he can't find any appreciation for your stubbornness that he's adored all his life. You keep your eyes fixed on him when all he wants to do is hide from you.

What is he supposed to say to you? What can he even say? That he's spent more than a third of his life hopelessly enamored with you? That the second he utters any of this out loud, he knows it will be the end of your friendship?

And Minho can't afford to lose you. Even if it hurts, he would rather let love hurt than live in the absence of you.

"Eat your cupcake," he says instead. "I'll get some ice cream."

He makes a move to get up, and the bad habit further cements its place in his subconscious. He's always running away from you when you're supposed to be the person he can be the most open with. This is how he knows he doesn't deserve you.

But you reach for his wrist and it makes him still, the feeling of your hand sliding downward to hold onto his fingers. He's used to the feeling of your smaller hand in his, used to how he can hear his heartbeat in his ears whenever you lace your fingers together.

What he isn't accustomed to, is the look on your face this very second, akin to the one you wore two years ago as you sat on the other side of his kitchen island, asking him if you should go.

Expectant and hopeful; you're holding something back too.

The words that slip from your lips are ones that he never imagined you would say to him.

"I've waited for you long enough."

His poor excuse of retrieving ice cream is all but forgotten as he stares at you, doe-eyed and despairingly confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

You take a breath, and Minho wonders if this is how he looked every time he wanted to say something only to back down in the end.

Then it all comes rushing out.

"For a while, I thought there might've been something between us, something more than just friendship. I don't know why I thought that, I just had a feeling. On the day of our graduation, I thought you would finally kiss me or at least say something, but you didn't. Whenever I went on dates, I wanted you to tell me not to go, that I was wasting my time with those guys that couldn't make me laugh because they weren't you. You never said anything, you never did anything. I waited every birthday just like I waited tonight. You're still holding it over me and I'm starting to wonder if you really love me too or if I imagined everything this whole time."

Your voice gets smaller toward the end, almost as if the uncertainty takes over you the longer he remains silent. He doesn't have the words for it, doesn't really have the mental capacity to process all of what you just professed. Years and years of longing, of hoping that you would come running into his arms the same way you did on the morning of your thesis defense, and it turns out that you were always the one waiting for him to reach you.

If you really love me too.

Your fingers start to loosen around his but Minho doesn't let you get away, not now and not ever again. Not when he finally knows that he's burnt up enough of your time just because he was too stuck in his head to see that you were holding a hand out for him all along.

He pulls you into his orbit and he likes to imagine that somewhere out there in the infinite universe, two stars collide when he kisses you for the first time, long overdue but still heavenly nonetheless.

He's crying but you don't seem to mind the tears. You're kissing him back and it's really all that matters. He can't think straight but he adores you to the point that his lungs ache.

"I love you," he mumbles against your lips. The sentiment comes out clumsy, half coherent but wholeheartedly sincere. "I'm sorry. I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you."

You're the one who breaks the kiss first, with your hand on his chest gently pushing him away. Panic instantly shoots through him like a lightning strike. These are the words he's been holding back for years, did he not even say them right? Did he fuck things up yet again?

You brush the tears from his cheeks, your voice so impossibly soft when you ask, "Do you mean it?"

Minho splinters into a million pieces, of course he does.

Your name falls from his lips, sounding like a prayer, like the most tender plea that's ever been uttered, "I love you the most. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been yours for so long and I never said anything. Fuck, I-I'm sorry. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I-"

You bring his face to yours once more, shushing him with a kiss that makes him putty in your hands. You tell him that it's okay, and you kiss him like you forgive him. The world could be ending right now, and he doesn't think that either of you would even care very much.

Because you're the only wish of his life, and you kiss him as though you want to make up for the lost years. Because Minho feels like he's 18 again and you're the most beautiful girl in the world, wearing a smile that leaves him breathless in the most wonderful way possible.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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forpiratereasons · 5 months

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i found a genre of longform videos that is just 8-10 hours of someone driving around freeways during thunderstorms and i have a lot of thoughts about this but also: stede the driver who films long pov driving vids and extremely stressed ed who gets addicted to his channel

it's meditative, and it reminds ed of being in the car with his mum, driving across aotearoa. he feels like she's there with him sometimes. but the more he watches, the more he becomes aware of the driver--a sigh here, the shuffle of fabric in the seat there.

there's almost no information about him on his channel, the gentleman driver, not even a name or a pic, and ed becomes a little fixated on picking up details about him. doesn't happen often, but once or twice ed catches the driver humming a few beats before falling silent again, clearing a throat, sighing, clicking his throat like he's talking silently to himself.

once, on hour six of a ten hour vid, ed's rewarded by the view of an elegant hand reaching across the screen to grab something that must be on the dash in front of the camera. four seconds ed plays over and over.

"is there someone in the car with you while you drive?" ed asks in a comment. "or is it just you?"

the gentleman driver writes back, "just me and the open road!"

maybe it's the format that makes ed ask, the anonymity. maybe he's just half asleep. "don't you ever get lonely?"

it's days before the gentleman driver writes back again. "do you?"

ed's not got an answer for that. or, he does, but not one he's willing to face head on. he asks instead how the gentleman driver chooses his routes.

the driver doesn't get very many comments and definitely not very many questions, and soon they're having little conversations in the comments of every video. ed gets another glimpse of that elegant hand, with a big turquoise ring, freckled forearm; hears another few bars of 'here comes the sun' hummed.

then the driver does something new: he stops at a rest stop.

and he leaves the camera rolling.

ed watches in rapt fascination as the driver crosses the screen in front of the car, goes into the rest stop. blond hair, broad shoulders, floral shirt. he's actually wearing jeans for an eight hour drive which is insane, and ed gets a glimpse of his profile as he smiles. insane.

if the driver's ever stopped before, it's been very carefully edited out. maybe he forgot this one. maybe he wanted ed to see. that's delusional, ed thinks, but he still navigates to the driver's about page and pokes around until he finds an email address.

nice shirt, he sends.

oh god, the driver sends back, and the video disappears from his page half an hour later. i forgot the editing. i'm sorry if it was distracting.

no, i liked it, ed tells him. it was nice to see the man behind the steering wheel. and then, hesitating only a bit, he adds: i'm ed.

hello, the driver writes. i'm stede.

the emails go on, and on, and eventually they turn into texts too, and promises from stede to check in on his longer drives, to "call if you ever need someone to keep you awake."

"i'm supposed to be sending you to sleep," stede argues.

"i'll sleep better knowing that you're safe," ed writes back.

the next video stede posts, he lets the camera run all the way until he's pulled into a parking spot at a roadside motel just outside of denver. the camera runs one minute, then five, and any reasonable person would've turned it off by now, but ed waits until he hears, very quietly: "safe and sound, now. go to sleep. goodnight."

is it stupid, to think you can fall in love with someone after just one sentence? is it still stupid, if that one sentence repeats at the end of every new video?

then one night the phone rings. it's late, dark out, and ed knows stede was doing a drive that wouldn't have him at his next stop until nearly one in the morning. he picks up. "hello?"

"oh, ed," the voice says. "you've no idea how good you sound just now."

it's a voice he's only heard before in hums and whispers, but it doesn't matter. lots of things about love are stupid, ed decides. this isn't one of them.

stede's blown a tire. "i'm okay," he insists. "i was just hoping for some company while i wait for the tow."

"where are you?"

"middle of nowhere," stede says, but when he names the spot, it's only two hours out. ed can be there faster than a tow probably would, and there's a note of anxiety in stede's voice he doesn't much like.

he's got his shoes on and his keys in his hand before he can think twice.

stede hems and haws but in all his fussing he doesn't actually tell ed not to come, and he stays on the line while ed piles blankets in the car and as he gets behind the wheel and as he sets out on the freeway. he stays on the line and they talk until they're both creaky with exhaustion and dry air, and then they're quiet, just like in stede's videos, but together this time. then ed crests over a hill and there it is: a car pulled off to the side with its hazard lights blinking. reminds ed of a lighthouse. 'i'm here,' the lights say. 'i'm here.'

he pulls to a stop behind, starts his own hazards. the driver side door of the car opens, and then there's a leg, and a body, and there he is. stede. he's still got his phone pressed to his ear; ed can hear him breathing.

"i'm going to get out," ed says.

"okay," stede says.

it takes another long moment, watching stede stand there in the dark, waiting for him. stede, with his hair and his voice and his hands and the way the quiet in him already feels like home.

"i might kiss you," ed says.

he watches stede swallow, hard. eyes widen. "okay," he says.

ed reaches for the handle. pops the door open. puts one foot out on the pavement and looks up to meet stede's eyes as his cabin lights come on, as the car starts to ding its door-open warning.

"oh," stede says.

ed takes a step. they both still have their phones in their hands, their breathes in each other's ear. ed takes a step and takes a step until he can reach out to take stede's phone from him. press the call end button.

"hi," he says.

stede kisses him.

after that there are other, shyer hellos, and other, more awkward ones too. there are ten minutes to a 24-hour macdo drive-thru for coffee and another ten to a motel and a late night that becomes an early morning by way of conversation. there's laughter, and more kisses, and careful fingers learning the planes of each other's faces. in the morning there's breakfast and a tow truck and an invitation to a place just two hours away.

and there's a long break in updates to the gentleman driver's channel.

when he comes back, weeks later, his update schedule isn't quite as frequent, and his drives don't usually go as far. there's giggles sometimes, in the background, like there might be someone else in the car with him.

"do you miss it," ed asks. "driving the long drives?"

"no," stede says. "i found what i was looking for."

@ kninjaknitter also podficced this one!

#darcy writes pirates #long post #ofmd #gentlebeard #cross posted from twitter

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itsbuckytm · 10 days

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Under the table / Dean Winchester

summary: Dean and your relationship had been lacking a bit of spice. So, you made a deal between the two of you, amidst the teasing and perhaps a punishment or two, to reignite the excitement.

ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any little grammar errors

warning; very nsfw no plot hihi

enjoy! xo

Dean was the first to boldly admit to injecting some excitement into the relationship. Whether it was in the car or at the motel, he wasn't shy about spicing things up.

One day, as the two boys delved earnestly into another case's lore, Sam meticulously recounted every detail while Dean casually munched on his lunch. Yet, amidst their focus, Dean couldn't shake the thought of your whereabouts.

The excuse? You had informed Sam that you were out getting groceries, hoping to experiment with a new recipe you'd caught on a TV program. Tired of the usual pasta, bread, and beer that seemed to dominate the brothers' menu lately, you wanted to add something special to the mix.

"She better not make us something healthy," Dean's voice reached you just as you managed to slip under the table earlier undetected. Sam responded with a casual "Mhm," accompanied by a chuckle. Little did Dean know, you were right there with them, setting the stage for a playful tease the next time he wished to spend the night together. If only he knew tonight's menu was, in fact, healthier. You couldn't help but smile, knowing you couldn't laugh and risk giving yourself away.

Fortunately, Dean had taken a seat directly across from you, his familiar shoes and jeans catching your eye. Little did he know, he wasn't prepared for the surprise awaiting him, especially since your absence had been unmistakable.

"You know, maybe we can bring Charlie along," Dean suggested as your name came up once again in discussions about joining the boys on this mission. It was mentioned that your favorite creature was in town, and Dean couldn't bear the thought of you missing out on the action and the chance for a kill or two. Those thoughtful gestures made you blush, prompting a moment of hesitation before Sam and Dean refocused on reading more lore about the case.

Your hand delicately brushed against his bulge, causing Dean's muscles to tense, followed by a cough. You'd do anything to witness his reaction, especially when Sam inquired if he was alright. It was clear you were in for some punishment later tonight as Dean felt your familiar touch, gradually unzipping his jeans, the bulge now more pronounced. "Just a slight sore throat, that's all," he quickly dismissed.

You couldn't help but relish every moment, watching Dean struggle with excuses, particularly when it involved having a bit more fun. What you didn't realize was that even if he knew it was you all along, he didn't want you to get caught, let alone feel embarrassed as if you were fulfilling his desires. "Oh, sweet mother," he cursed under his breath, his back arching slightly as he covered his mouth before brushing it away.

Your hand then tenderly caressed his shaft, fingers deftly moving his boxer out of the way, unveiling his hardened cock. Lust danced in your eyes as warmth flushed your cheeks, leaning in to press a few kisses on its tip, where obvious pre-cum glistened. You delicately picked some on your fingers and licked the remaining. How Dean, cursed himself. When he yearned to thrust his hips the moment he felt your mouth envelopped his cock.

Dean's voice clearly heightened Sam's concern as he observed the redness on his brother's cheeks. Being the caring and protective sibling he was, Sam couldn't help but rise to his feet and check on Dean's potential fever. "I'll need to take Baby and head to the pharmacy anyways," Dean played along, going along with the idea, which meant more time to plan your punishment in return. "It won't be long," Sam said, grabbing his jacket and Dean's car keys before the sound of the vehicle faded away from the Bunker.

Alone at last, Dean removed the table curtain, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he leaned down to cup your face, devouring your lips hungrily. "Did you think I'd let you off that easily?" His voice was husky as he swiftly discarded his pants. Before you knew it, his fingers were tangled in your hair, guiding you to take him deeper. As you wrapped your lips around his cock, his moans grew louder, punctuated by your name. Leaning back in his chair, head thrown back and eyes closed, he urged you on. "Don't stop, love."

Your gaze met his, a look that undeniably ignited his desire, yet he knew he had to resist the urge to devour you right there on the table. It was a punishment he was more than willing to uphold.

"There, just like that," he murmured as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his shaft. Just as you were about to bring him to climax, your hand took over, stroking his cock. You felt his legs tense and his muscles contract as he reached orgasm. When his eyes reopened, Dean couldn't help but admire the sight before him. He knew your arousal was growing, how you longed for him to take you in his lap, but you both understood that you weren't getting off that easily.

"Nah, not yet, sweetheart," his voice grew huskier, his eyes darkening with desire. His fingers tightened around your waist, pulling you out from under the table. Your skirt rode up your thighs, revealing your obvious arousal through showing a glimpse of your damp underwear, his gaze inevitably drawn there. With a sly smirk, he knew it was payback time. "No touching until tonight—"

The door swung open, revealing Sam's incredulous expression. He was clearly disgusted to learn that the whole fever act was not just to save your skin, but also Dean's. "Under the table, really?!" To your surprise, instead of the expected look of disgust, there was almost a look of disapproval on his face.

"A room isn't enough?" Despite feeling a twinge of sympathy for him, you and Dean couldn't help but chuckle. In fact, Dean wore a proud expression and shrugged off his brother's comment. "What about dinner?" Sam then interjected, redirecting your attention from Dean’s.

"I went an hour ago," you said with a smirk. What Dean didn't realize was that it was actually going to be a healthy dinner. When you mentioned this, you could hear Sam's chuckle, a bit of payback in his amusement, while Dean's brow furrowed and he pouted. "One point from you for not returning the favor," you added, leaning in to peck his lips, eliciting a protest from Dean.

#supernatural x reader #supernatural preferences #supernatural imagines #spn preferences #spn x reader #spn imagines #spn imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester x yn #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean x you #dean smut #supernatural smut #jensen ackles x reader

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legendofmorons · 8 months

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I’ve had this idea in my head all day, could I get a scenario or headcanons or something about the chain not knowing that twilight and the reader (gender neutral if possible please) are married? Like the reader is from Ordon village and ended up sneaking through the portal with Twilight. I just want to see everyone else have that “wait a minute” moment after like idk months of traveling and now suddenly someone notices that Twi and the reader have matching rings

Definitely Married, not just besties (Twilight)

Of course! I'm super excited to do this!!!

Pairing: Twilight x reader

Rating: G

Summary: The chain manages to miss that you and your husband are married, you, Twi, and Time enjoy the realization.

Warnings: Vauge injury (no details)

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

You'll admit that maybe your husband wasn't thrilled that you followed him through a mysterious and possibly dangerous portal. But he hasn't been too mad, mostly just worried.

Which is fair. It's not been boring on this trip.

The other heroes are fond of you, your skills helpful in many ways. From patching them up, to getting discounts, and even to keeping Twilight from absolutely raging when he finds hurt kids.

It would suffice to say that you fit right in.

-------

You lay in the bedroll you share with your husband, stars above you bright as the others all whisper about plans you can't come to care about.

Unfortunately, Wolfie dosen’t seem to care that you're tryingto sleep, the pesky wolf form of your husband flopping over your torso.

"Wolfie." You warn lowly.

"Oh- (Y/n)! Hey!" Sky smiles from a few feet away.

"Hello, Sky."

"Something wrong, (Y/n)?"

"I'm just tired." You say, pushing Wolfie to lay on your legs as you sit up, "Anyone seen Twi?"

Twilight, in true wolf form fashion, gives a soft bark and noses at your hand. You don't have to ignore him!

"He said he went on a walk. Why?"

"Just wondering, he has a penchant for finding trouble. "

Time laughs at that, "Yeah. He does. We're just talking about our next plan of attack. Any thoughts?"

"We should probably split into groups. Archers and sword fighters." You add with a sigh, reaching to scratch behind Wolfie's ear.

This earns you a happy sound and some tail wagging.

"Smart." Legend says as he works on cleaning out from under his nails with a dagger. All aware of safety and such.

"I think so." You smile.

"How'd you and Twilight even meet?" Wind asks, obviously done with all plans and interested in gossip now.

They others must have been at the strategy for a while if the way everyone immediately tunes in is any indication.

"Oh, well we grew up in Oradon together. We met real young, you know? I hardly even remember a before him."

"You should tell him you like him." Hyrule pipes up, "It's really sweet."

"What?" You ask.

"Tell Twilight you like him!"

You laugh, realizing the others have no idea you're married to your beloved husband. "I'll think about it."

(How do they not know? You two are almost always near each other. There's no shortage of affection. You share a bed roll!)

If later, when Twi is back to human form, you jokingly tell him you have a crush he just laughs and wraps you in his arms and says, "Good."

You fall asleep in Twilight's arms, one hand clutching your ring on the chain it's been on for months now- since the startof the journey. Your other hand rests on his chest.

-------

You sit in your underclothes and pout at Twilight.

Twilight sits across from you as he patches you up while the others wither patch up or help someone else. His gaze is soft, but he's obviously a little upset you took his hits to save him.

"I didn't know you had a ring on a chain." Wind says from where he's wiping off monster gunk a few feet away.

"Oh- yeah. I've had it for a few years now." You say, smiling at Twilight gently instead of looking to the Sailor.

"Kinda looks like the ring the rancher wears around his neck."

"That's on purpose. "Twilight says, adjusting the gauze under the bandage he's finished placid around your bicep.

Time can bee seen behind Twilight, looking smug and amused. The tall gremlin probably has known for a while but he seems as amused as you and Twi to watch the others miss the whole point.

"Why would you have matching rings? Are you super duper best friends or some shit?" Legend huffs.

"Or something." You say, biting back a giggle.

"That's like a married people thing." Hyrule says helpfully.

"Almost like we're married." You say evenly.

This earns a swat at your shoulder from Twilight. "Hey now." He says with a smile.

"Oh my hylia." Time mutters.

"You're married!" Wind declares.

"Yep!"

"To Twilight?" He demands, sounding shocked as can be.

"Unless you know someone else named Link from my home town?"

"Don't tease them, sweetheart." Twilight says, " 's not their fault their dense."

"You're married to eachother?" Sky asks, tone going soft like it does when he talks about his Zelda.

"Have been for a few years, actually." Twilight answers, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Why?"

"Just surprised." Sky says, "I thought you two were pining."

"We all did." Hyrule adds helpfully.

"I didn't. "Time pipes in, "I've known since the second day."

"Show off." Legend mumbles.

"Awww, it's okay guys! We didn't exactly tell you." You say, trying to make them feel better.

"We didn't hide it either." Twilight says.

"You are telling us everything. "Wind says firmly, "The wedding, the proposal, your getting together, all of it."

You laugh, "Sounds good kid."

"Yeah... That sounds good." Twi echoes, and he's so star-struck just remembering the mentioned points of your relationship. He's whipped.

To this day, the chain likes to ignore the several months they missed the whole 'you and Twilight being married thing.

#misty writes #lu #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu twilight #twilight x reader

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irondad-defensesquad · 4 months

Text

My Irondad fic recs!

I thought of doing this because why not? Admittedly, I'm not reading as much fanfiction as I did a couple years ago, but some fics have changed my life entirely. In case I forgot one, I'll add it later!

I would’ve organized this in a bullet list, but Tumblr hates me and invented a character limit for that. So this is going to be long and will be under the cut. Anyway, let’s do this!

Rare and Sweet As Cherry Wine by loubuttons – I've mentioned this one before, but this fic right here was what inspired me to write my own Irondad works. One very particular detail I like about it is how it portrays Maria, Tony's mother. It's not what I usually see in other fics about Tony's childhood, since they tend to make Howard the big bad parent. Of course, this is because I personally related to it, as I don't believe in the "bad parent vs. good parent". I also like that it praises Edwin Jarvis as the one who looked out for Tony the most. It's pretty realistic and a very melancholic character study, IMO. *TW for abuse and neglect*

You're Always Iron Man by madasthesea – a very short fic but I absolutely love the premise. Takes place after the big battle in Iron Man 2, and Tony finds little Peter again. They have a very endearing interaction. The following chapter is also very cute!

Nothing like a fresh cup of humiliation in the morning by madasthesea – Pure fluff! This one is probably a classic in the Irondad fandom. Tony kisses Peter's forehead without second thought. Shenanigans ensue. It's so adorable and funny. If you just want to read fluff without angst, this one is for you.

when my body won't hold me anymore (where will I go) by madasthesea - I think I heard about this fic thanks to @/irondadfics here on Tumblr, but I might be wrong since I already knew the Nice work, kid series. Anyway, Peter is believed to be dead, so Tony (and the rest of the Avengers team) is mourning him. In reality, Peter is astral projecting. You know, sort of like how Stephen Strange, in his first movie, was fighting a guy in the other dimension while his body on Earth was struggling to live. That's basically what happens. Strange appears, of course, and saves the day. And I pretty much LOVE the presumed dead trope. I don't know why. Maybe it's the angst of it all. *TW for grief/mourning and temporary character death*

The Reason by doctornineandthreequarters – I think I read this one when I was still writing Oh, take me back to the start. I was looking for fics for inspiration, and I found this one. During the Time Heist in Endgame, Tony remembers the reason he's fighting to bring everyone else back. It's very emotional.

Couch Cuddles by happyaspie – Classic sickfic, but with more fluff than anything. I like rereading it when I feel lonely and touch-starved, especially when I'm also sick like Peter.

You’re So Much Like Me (I’m Sorry) by SpaceCowboysFromMars – Irondad + Miles Morales! Peter is an adult in this, and he freaks out when an injured Miles arrives in his apartment. Tony gives him some wisdom about mentoring and parenting. I don’t usually find Irondad stories featuring Miles (and not necessarily a Spider-Verse crossover), so this was a nice discovery. Peter & Miles & Tony is a very underrated trio IMO. *TW for slight gore*

I'm Glad I Have You by punkybunny – Peter has been having a rough time, dealing with loneliness as Aunt May is not home often, and with bullying at school... until he finally has the chance to spend time with Tony. However, the demons don't disappear completely. Obviously, more Hurt/Comfort, lmao. *TW for nightmare/bad dream*

I Want to Trust You by punkybunny – Actually part of a series that, admittedly, I haven't read all the other stories. But even this one is a very interesting concept on its own. This is a Hydra Peter AU, after Peter has been rescued. He gets sick but given his past in Hydra, he thinks Tony is going to get angry. Peter is proven wrong when Tony helps him get better. The ending is very adorable. I'll see if I can read the rest of the series one day. *TW for past abuse and experimentation*

what you think I've done wrong by ironxprince – I don't often read Biodad stories as you all know, but I was, again, looking for inspiration for You keep me searching for a heart of gold, and I stumbled across this one. Basically Peter, as Tony's biological son, finally meets Howard. It goes as well as you think /sarcasm. *TW for physical abuse*

i, in time, will climb my mountain by ironxprince – This one is heavy. Once again, Peter is Tony's bio son, and he's suicidal. Every time Peter attempts suicide, he buys a new plant. Tony doesn't know this, so he's confused as to why there are so many plants in their house. I love this one, but of course, I try to read it when I’m not having a really bad day. *Once again, TW for suicide attempts*

how do you get that lonely (and nobody knows?) by parkrstark – Yeah... another heavy one. Peter attempts suicide but he saves himself before he reaches the ground. With that, he goes to Tony. This ends happily, don't worry. *TW for suicide attempt*

When You Can't Sleep by Emily_F6 – Pretty much Tony comforting a sleepy Peter, who has just had a nightmare about Thanos. Just Hurt/Comfort and domestic fluff. *TW for mention of death*

i get by (but it's eating me alive) by Livinei – Honestly, I think this is the BEST May's Abusive Boyfriend story I've ever read. For one, none of the characters are oblivious nor dismissive of Peter's feelings. May isn't neglectful and Ned actually tries to encourage Peter to tell someone. I also like that Peter isn't completely helpless. I don't usually see those things in other fics with this trope, sadly. And of course, Protective Tony is my weakness. *TW for emotional and physical abuse*

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea – Post-Endgame where Tony is alive, and Peter and Tony are both trying to cope, so they rely on each other. Pure Hurt/Comfort.

A Tremendous Thing by ExpectoPatronum – Possibly one of my favorite Irondad stories EVER. Also post-Endgame with Alive Tony (though the author better explains it in the notes, it's supposed to be part of a series, but this story can be read on its own). There are a lot of references to Charlotte's Web if you're familiar with it. Basically, it's Father's Day and Peter is feeling guilty and out of place at Tony's lake house, even though everyone is readily trying to include him. It's absolutely beautiful and painful.

Hug You I Must by spiderwriting (catch_you_later) – Probably one of the first touch-starved Peter fics I've read. I like how it describes touch-starvation as this "itchy" current in your body, something that makes you anxious. Thankfully, Peter gets his hug later on. Plus there are some Star Wars references (the title probably is one, lol). *There's some minor violence here when Peter is fighting off some bad guys, but not the focus of the fic*

When You're There With No One There To Hold, I'll Be The Arms That Reach For You by Squibbles94 – Another touch-starved Peter fic. But I really like the references to Cast Away. Ironically I saw this movie in the same year the author published this fic (dare I say SHORTLY after it was posted). I also had no idea that Cast Away was entirely about isolation. Gosh, the main character's monologue at the end ALWAYS gets to me... anyway, yeah, the peak of the pandemic was awful to me, so reading fics like this one helped tons. It still does.

I am cold by N/A (orphan account) – Peter tries to visit Tony, but he gets lost in a subway tunnel on a freezing day. Eventually we learn why Peter wanted to see Tony, but overall this is mainly domestic fluff. Everything ends well.

Sorry Pedro by PinkEasterEggs – One of the first Irondad fics I read. Peter has a nightmare about Homecoming (mainly Toomes), but he avoids waking Tony for that reason. But thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y's protocols, Peter goes to his mentor. Tony is also super soft here and it makes my heart swoon.

you are enough by diaz_evan – Another post-Endgame fic. Arguably I began reading Irondad fics only after Endgame released. Anyway, this one is short, kinda sad but it ends well. It’s Tony’s birthday and Peter feels very anxious about what to get him as a present. Thankfully, he doesn’t need to prove his love for Tony. *TW for panic attack*

Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Stark by downeylove – There are a lot of Father’s Day fics for these two, of course, but this one takes the cake for me. It’s simple but very endearing to me. Tony obviously doesn’t have good memories of this day, but Peter changes that for the first time. It’s really cute. Plus, Pepper is here, and I love her. I wish I could read more of her interacting with Peter. *TW for mentions of alcoholism and past child abuse*

5 Times Peter Didn’t Say He Was Struggling… And The One Time He Did by Bladam_Shevine – Again, an old fic I read years ago. I admit I haven’t re-read it in a while, but I remember enjoying it and even saving it to read offline. It’s basically what it says in the title: Peter struggles in many ways and he initially refuses help. Tony is always there to reassure him he can count on him. Bruce is here if you like him! And MJ helps Peter on one of the chapters as well. The chapters might get heavier as they go, but it ends on a hopeful note. *TW for injury, panic attack, suicide attempt (it doesn’t involve Peter), and depression*

The Good Days and the Bad by SoupGirlLovesSoup - Peter has had a bad day, now he's cuddling with Tony. It takes a while before Peter finally tells him what happened. It gets sad, but it's mostly fluff and it ends hopefully. I love re-reading it when I need the comfort. *TW for mention of suicide attempt, depression, and bullying*

Breathe Again by gwenoakley - Post-Endgame where Tony survives. He's recovering in the hospital and Peter finally reunites with him. Before that, though, we can feel the anxiety and trauma Peter feels. Definitely makes me emotional. It's the ending they deserved.

Well, for now this is it! Again, I might add more fics here. I think I also could make a list of what particular concepts I want to read more in Irondad stories, so maybe you guys could give me your own recs. I might try to resume my habit of reading Irondad fics, because they give me a lot of comfort. Thanks for reading this far! I hope you enjoy any of the stories I included.

(I'm aware some authors here have their accounts on Tumblr, but I didn't want to annoy anyone by tagging them, so yeah 😅)

#lotus speaks #irondad #fics #fic rec #anti starker

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venturelovebot · 1 month

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A/N: AAAAH This is the first piece of media I've written for Overwatch since like 2019! I wanted to so badly get back into writing but I just never felt like it! (´;ω;｀) I cannot believe this goober is what got me back into it. Bless their little rock eating heart.

Premise: You're a nerdy college student majoring in arts. Guess who you have a massive crush on. Guess whose popular and you're not. Guess who gets asked out anyway. ･*･:≡(　ε:) G/N!insecure!reader x Venture "Rock Eater" Overwatch ft. Illari the supportive friend!

Warnings: None! Just fluff.

You doodled another heart on a blank layer with your stylus. Beside that one you doodle a smaller one. You glance up quickly enough to get another look at their face and add small details to the main focus of your artwork. You move down a layer and add more shading. You zoom out. You're not happy with it.

"You push yourself too hard." Illari takes a seat next to you and sets down an unopened can of coffee. "You only see the mistakes. Everyone else will always see the bigger picture."

"That's what you keep telling me..." You softly sigh and open the can. Half of it nearly disappears in a gulp, so sleep would have to wait a little bit longer.

Illari looks over your work. "Oh! Is that S–" You cut her off with a harsh shush. Your head nods towards Sloane who sits not even twenty feet away from you laughing and talking with their friends.

"Not so loud..." You frown.

"Wow." Illari smiles softly and lowers her voice to a whisper. "That's like the third drawing you've done of them this week. Why not just ask them out already?"

"Stop!" You blush, hit the save button and close your laptop screen. You bury your face in your hands and feel the embarrassment begin to burn on your skin.

Even though no one has noticed, it feels like the whole world was staring at you. Tears softly gather behind your eyes but you blink them back before Illari takes notice.

"It's not like they know who I am. Plus they're cute... and look at me..." You sigh and feel a lump in your throat start to form.

Illari puts a hand on your shoulder. "Remember that you only see the mistakes. Everyone else will always see the bigger picture." She gets up quietly and grabs her book bag. "I'll text you later."

You watch between your fingers as she makes her way out of the building. After she leaves your line of sight you reopen your laptop and the familiar sting of failure settles over you again. You use your sleeve to dry your eyes before shaking your head gently to center yourself.

Right. Back to work.

The chatter of people around you dwindles as the time passes by and the sun lowers itself towards the horizon. You hit the save button for the twentieth time and decide to call it quits when the light makes it harder to see the finer details on your screen. You set your stylus aside and remove your drawing glove to let your dominant hand finally rest. The cramp pulses in your wrist and fingers as you massage them firmly. All was quiet for a brief moment.

"Hey! Is that me? That's so cool!" Oh, god... that voice. Their voice.

You had no time to react as a nervous heat strikes your body like lightning. You're frozen, blushing and panicking– and you just noticed you forgot to hide the heart doodle layer.

It cannot get much worse than this.

"I told you they were talented!" Illari smiles and sits across from you. "You should show them the other ones."

"I'll kill you." You mouth to her and her smile widens into a grin.

"Can you send them to me? I'll give you my number– wait a minute..." Sloane takes another glance at the screen. "Are those hearts?"

The feeling of helplessness overwhelms you as tears begin flowing from your eyes nonstop. You quickly cover your face in an attempt to save yourself and the small amount of dignity you have left. There was nothing you could say to defend yourself in this situation. This causes Illari to feel guilty and stand up to comfort you.

"Hey! It's okay! Your artwork is super good! I look really good! A lot better than I usually do, I think..." Sloane takes a seat next to you. "Wow, you even got my tattoos right. That's crazy! In a good way, I mean..."

You try your hardest to dry your eyes with your dampened sleeves. "You really think so?" You're hardly able to hide the choking in your throat.

"Actually... I think you made me look too good." They joke and you can't help but laugh a little.

"What are you talking about? You always look good regardless of what you do..." You glance over at them. Sloane's face lights up with a soft red glow from your compliment.

Illari takes a few steps back unnoticed, her plan beginning to unravel.

"Aww! Well, thanks!" There's a tone in their voice you haven't heard before. "You're not so bad looking yourself, ya know." They smile.

"Oh! That's not true... I could definitely look a lot better I think–" You look away with a grin on your face. "My hair is a mess... and–"

"No! I'm being honest! Your hair looks nice...! And you smell really nice! And you seem really nice!" You could tell they were embarrassed at this point. "Uh– anyway– You're definitely cute. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself."

A moment of silence passes as you look back at them. Both of you are grinning at each other uncontrollably like a couple of nerds. The tension in the air begins to fade.

"Wow..." You pause for a moment. "Thank you. Really."

"No problem! Say, can I ask you for a favor?" Sloane asks.

"S-sure!"

"I'm thinking about getting another tattoo for my birthday. Could you design it for me?" Sloane lifts up their tank top to point at their chest. "I was thinking about getting something cool like the eye of Horus! Or maybe something like a flaming skull. Or a frog. I haven't decided yet–"

Your face turns bright red as you eye their bare skin. It was everything you daydreamed about– except this time it was all real. You wanted more time to admire everything but they lower their shirt back down... a soft disappointment looms over you, but you're not about to squander your chance.

"I'd love to!" You answer confidently for the first time in a very long time.

"Nice! So it's a date then? Does this Friday work?" Sloane writes down their phone number for you.

"That sounds... nice." You reply happily.

"Cool, I'll see you around then." Sloane stands up and nearly walks off before turning to you one more time. "I almost forgot. What's your name? Illari didn't tell me."

"Y/N."

"Y/N..." They echo. "I like that name. See you Friday!"

You watch as they leave, not taking your eyes off of them for a second until they're completely out of your sight.

"You're welcome." Illari smiles and heads out afterwards.

You spend an extra couple of minutes gathering your things before giggling and kicking your feet like a little kid. You just got a date with one of the most popular people on campus! And this is what it feels like... a rollercoaster of butterflies in your stomach.

You head back towards home as the moon brightly shines in the starry sky above, wondering about this coming Friday... what you would wear... you needed to be prepared.

#idc if this gets no notes i'm writing a sequel to this... i have to...#venture x reader #venture overwatch #sloane cameron #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch fanfiction #f/o #romantic f/o #banner and divider by saradika-graphics

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a-world-with0ut-dr34ms · 1 year

Text

Ghost x City Girl Reader

Ghost isn't too happy about hearing that you've been seeing other men, as he sees fit to remind you why your eyes shouldn't wander.

NSFW 18+. Shameless Smut, Explicit, Porn with very little Plot, Toxic Relationships, Hate-Fucking, City Girl Reader, Jealous/Possessive Ghost, Hints of Sub/Dom stuff, Brat Reader, Sexual Tension, Flirting, Cheating(?), Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Finger-Fucking, Handjobs, Mask Kissing, Manhandling, Facial (?), Light Hints of Angst

Word Count: 3k

Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five

Can be read as a one-shot

Masterlist

Things between you and Ghost had grown... odd.

You didn't have a relationship. You hardly had a friendship. The team couldn't catch you two next two each other longer than a minute (they've counted), and any time you talked, it was less fireworks, and more deadly bombs of taunts, jabs, and mild hostility. Work colleagues, through and through.

Outside of work, it had been an entirely different story.

The only time he hears you call him by his name is at night when he's buried his cock so deep into you that you can't help but gasp it out to him. Otherwise, it's Manchester. Nothing more, nothing less.

The only time he kisses you is when you've got him in such a lucid trance, pumping in and out of you with such pent-up aggression, that when your eyes finally lock and you've felt his breath tickle your lips that it only felt natural to meet his mouth with yours. He's as distant with you as he's always been otherwise.

You don't touch him unless it's to let your hands take delicate hold over his throbbing member, hands brushing back and forth against the base of his pelvis as you've let your tongue let saliva blanket him, to better help you get him off.

He hasn't taken his mask off in front of you yet. Nothing beyond his mouth and not anywhere with good lighting. You used to nag about it, but at some point, you either stopped caring or simply knew it would be a losing battle.

Nothing was ever planned; it would just happen. All it takes is a quick glance across the room or a hidden comment shared only between you two. In the eyes of one another, you both were merely objects to be used and discarded by the other, whenever the need arose. This had all been fine.

Until recently, where Ghost had been reminded of every aspect which came with getting involved with a woman like you. Where it's Cloud Nine behind closed doors and psychological warfare outside them.

It had been a random morning that he caught you getting dropped off at their compound by another man. It wouldn't have made him bat an eye, having seen the sight before in the past. However, it felt different seeing it now.

And as if that weren't enough, to solidify the difference between Ghost and every other man in your life, you leaned back in and kissed him goodbye passionately. Familiarly.

"So who was he?" Ghost asks you later, once everyone's left the office for lunch and cleared out of the building.

You stand from your seat and turn to face him, smirking. "Who?"

"Don't play dumb," he's grown less humored now. "You know who. The bloke I saw you with this morning."

"Oh, right," you say sarcastically. "That guy. He's just some dude I met on Tinder a few weeks ago-"

"Weeks ago?" That detail catches the man off guard. Weeks. The same weeks you shared with Ghost, only he saw now that hadn't been exclusive. "You been seein' him for weeks?"

"I'm seeing him tonight too," you add. "With luck, I'll see him tomorrow as well. Problem?"

No, it's not a problem, Ghost had thought. Or it shouldn't be. Yet, when asked, he can't quite bring himself to give you an answer, opting for silence instead. Silence you quickly weaponize.

You smile, eyes half-lidded and a giggle bubbling in your throat. "Don't tell me you're jealous, Manchester."

"Not in the slightest."

You laugh now; naturally, you didn't believe him. You knew those quick remarks hid a hurt man inside, even if that man had been as stoic as Ghost.

"Does he know about us?" Ghost asks, now having had more time to sort through all his burning questions.

"He knows I'm single and seeing other guys," you clarify, following it up with a peculiar look. You thought it strange there had suddenly been an emphasis on the word "us" in his sentence. "You're trippin' Manchester-"

"Did you fuck him?"

"Ah," you've been waiting to hear that question leave him since the conversation began. "There it is."

You stare at Ghost for a good while from across the room, not feeling as inclined to divulge him with an answer right away. You needn't bother, however. Ghost knew the answer before he even asked it. He just wants to hear you say it.

"I asked you a question." His voice grows low, dark even, as his eyes all but bore into you like knives, ready to carve you up and dissect you where you stand. Ghost takes a few steps forward, until he's a foot or away from you, towering over you like a skyscraper. "Did you fuck him?"

"I sure did," you say. "I fucked him on the first date. I fucked him five days ago, and I fucked him yesterday. I plan on fucking him tonight too. Problem?"

Ghost boxes you in, his hands firmly on the wall, resting beside either side of your face. You don't flinch, nor do you budge. Your chin is held high, as is that mocking tone in your eyes. You let him close that small space between you two, smelling the cigarettes and cologne on his uniform and feeling the warmth of his body shower over you.

Even under his mask, you could see the man doing all he could to not look like he was seething. However, his skin vibrates with anger, telling tales of jealousy and rage his lips would not. Heat pools off him like a predatory aura, his eyes having not left yours since you started.

A long time ago, it used to intimidate you, as much as you'd never admit that fact. It was a look that needn't be followed by physical action; his gaze alone could constrain as good as any rope or bondage.

But as said before, that was a long time ago; he had still only been a man at the end of the day.

All Ghost could think about was the thought of another man's hands on you. He can see it clear as day: their hands -- filthy fucking hands -- touching you, pleasing you, pulling moans out of you that should only be for him to hear.

Ghost always suspected you hadn't just paused on him; if the man had been interested (or invested enough) in finding a relationship, he'd be doing the same he's sure.

Only he hasn't. And he didn't really realize how odd that had been until now, seeing how little interest or investment you'd apparently returned to him.

Still, Ghost wasn't so hurt that it made him unconfident. After all, you're here in front of him, even now.

He leans forward until he's felt his mask-veiled lips gently graze your ear. With a low, breathy tone, he says, "He must not know how you like it, then. Or else you wouldn't come crawlin' back 'ere, beggin' me to fuck you."

"And how do I like it, Manchester?" You whisper back into his ear.

Ghost felt keen to remind you the difference between him and every man you've tried to replace him with in your life. One of his hands drops down to grab your hip, as he's brought his head back to look you in your eyes. Your misty eyes which always taunt him.

Once he knew he had your attention, without breaking gaze, he lets his hand slip between your pants, skipping past your panties and heading straight for the prize.

You gasp as his cold fingers play roughly with your cunt, the tip of his finger slipping in lightly as he teases your hole, making you a wet, quivering mess. As he's felt you lubricate over him, he uses it to then DJ knee-wobbling circles against your clit, already having calculated every way he wanted his fingers to play you like an instrument.

"I know how you like it," Ghost whispers.

He let's too fingers slip back into you, his thumb continuing to play with your clit as he furiously pumped his fingers in and out of you. The two of them felt girthy enough to substitute for some average guy's dick alone. Your pussy follows after the pleasure his hand gives you, lips quivering with moans as your heart races in your chest.

He's not gentle, watching your body spasm against the wall with this sudden rush of pleasure as it overwhelmed you, the stimulation leaving you shaking. To keep your squirming at a minimum, he's wrapped his other arm around your shoulders, hugging you close to him so that you had no choice but to look at him as he fingerfucked you.

You moan at every swift circle he massages against you, holding onto his other arms for leverage as you couldn't help but keep your back pressed against the wall, at the mercy of your lieutenant's devilishly well-trained fingers.

The whole time, Ghost has made sure your eyes stayed on his, daring you to move them so he can punish you for so much as thinking of another man when he's right here.

"Does he know you like it rough like this?" He whispers to you, "I'm just usin' my fingers and you're already a bloody fuckin' mess."

Suddenly, he's felt you bring your hands to his crotch, as you've let your hand rub generously over his hardening cock. Feeling the shape of him through his pants, you press just hard enough so that he can feel you touch him through the fabric. You hear the tattered breaths that want to leave him with barely so much as any skin-on-skin contact, his gaze halved, and olive eyes dilated with lust.

Through your own moaning -- as Ghost hasn't stopped letting his fingers wreak havoc on your pussy -- you tease him, "I haven't even touched you and your cock's already throbbin' for me."

You continue to rub the indent of his him, feeling his hips slowly shift towards your touch, the more aggressive your tugging grows. Each time, you've heard him swallow down another breathy moan that wanted to leave, taking it out on your cunt instead.

His palm smacks against your clit as his fingering grew downright diabolical. You feel his hands shake in you as you start to unbuckle his pants and lower them down, feeling his large cock now spring out from its tight confinement.

You look down at Ghost, seeing these parts of him that had been for your eyes only. The parts of him your body craved, any late night you could not have him in your bed.

You bring your eyes back up to him and smirk. "Big Ben returns!" you joke. Ghost doesn't even reward you with a reply, merely rolling his eyes and letting his fingers continue to do the talking for him.

Even with both your hands now wrapped firmly around his cock, there had still been more of Ghost left for your fingers to play with, as you pumped your hands back and forth over him, jerking him off to the same rhythm he played with your pussy.

By now you've learned this technique that gets a pretty visceral reaction out of him. You let one hand cup his balls, gently groping and massaging them as you let your other hand pump at his cock, your thumb rubbing over the tip of him each time you've passed it.

As you pick up the pace, you feel him chase your hand, humping into your grip. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and groans, using your skin to hide his quiet moans.

"What's wrong, Si'?" you tease him. "You had so much to say a second ago."

You bring your lips to his neck, planting kisses against his mask, as you trail up to his jaw, feeling him melt in your touch. Your lips trace his chin, trailing up to his nose, before Ghost has finally had enough and had let his mouth come crashing into yours, mask and all.

Your lips desperately feel for his through his mask, the fabric rubbing roughly against your skin, as his hot breath tickles you. It hadn't mattered that his mask was in the way, especially to him. If you wanted his mouth, you'd take it as is, and from how you both kissed one another, as passionate as it would be without it, this would more than suffice.

Despite the hindrance, your kisses grow as sloppy and wet as you both had each other's privates, doing all you could to taste what little he left behind through his mask. It was here you both knew that deep down, it didn't matter what amount of venom you two fed each other. Once together like this, you didn't want anything else.

You don't announce that you've come, knowing that the man would most likely stop right when you're on edge just to see you in shambles about it. You instead let a weak moan dance from your tongue, your cunt throbbing against his fingers as your legs shake pleasurably.

Ghost rips his hand from you once he's seen you've come without warning. You know he has a smart remark just waiting for you, however, you then get this real freaky idea.

You grab his hand that had been glued to your cunt for nearly five minutes now, seeing how much of yourself had now dripped onto it. You bring his fingers to your mouth and you clean the mess you've made off his hand, leaving no trace of you there.

Ghost exhales heavily, his breath laced with arousal.

"You're such a dirty fuckin' woman."

Watching your tongue work its way across his hand had his cock just dying to sheath itself back between your lips once again. But if he waited for you any longer, he just might not make it to the best part.

Ghost whips you around, facing you against the wall and pressing you there harshly. He takes both your arms and brings them behind your back, holding them there with a single hand, before he's used the other to tug your pants down, leaving your ass bare to him, still healing from the last flurry of spankings he'd given you.

Marks he knew you couldn't hide. Marks that let any who saw them know who you really belonged to.

Ghost thrusts himself into you and goes right away into a punishable speed, your ass smacking loudly against his pelvis as he fucked you hard. Mercilessly. And with all of himself.

Ghost made sure you felt every bit of him, just as much as he let his cock memorize every warm, wet groove of you, which pulsated over him like a sopping mess, wanting your walls to remember the shape of his cock so much that you won't want anyone else's but his. If he could fuck you into wanting him, he would.

"Does he fuck you this good?" He taunts. "Did 'e 'ave you like this?"

Your face presses against the wall, Ghost's hand gripping your hair roughly, while he's let the other cup at your chin, his fingers playing with your bottom lip, before he's dipped them into your mouth, feeling you suck and tongue at him. It only makes him lose himself in you further, as his pace has gone so carnal you feared how you'd be able to continue your day after this, your legs already feeling like jello.

And it's exactly how Ghost wanted you, too. He wants to hear you cry his name. He wants to feel you shake at his touch, and crave the taste of him. He wanted you to want him, in every possible way.

Just as you had before, Ghost doesn't announce that he's about to come. Your only warning is that rough sensation when he's ripped his cock out of you suddenly, using your hair like rope to bring you down to your knees.

"Open your mouth," he orders.

You do as he asked gladly, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him, as you've let your eyes fall back on his again. Ghost brings the tip of his cock to your tongue, the taste of you both coating your lips as he rubs himself against you, using his hand to furiously jerk himself.

Ghost's breath shakes, his back arching slightly, until you've felt the warm liquid of his cum shoot across your tongue and into your mouth. Wanting more, you bring your lips to his tip and suck what remnants hadn't yet come out, feeling Ghost's body shake at the overstimulation, before he's finally pushed you away from him.

You laugh, wiping your mouth off as you pulled your pants back up. "I should make you jealous more often," you tease. "Where was this three days ago?"

"Figured you needed some reminding," he says.

"I might need some more later," you wink.

"You can get it from your boyfriend," Ghost says coldly.

In turn, you scoff, expecting no less from him. "I'll make sure I do. Thanks for the extra pointers by the way. I have all sorts of ideas for him later."

You two could go on, going back and forth like children. However, Ghost had a sudden lack of interest in the matter. Had it been so outlandish to believe that your words could in fact hurt at times, in the strangest and most unexplainable ways. So the lieutenant does not give you a response. He simply leaves it at that.

A small part of him thought that maybe you might cancel the date, having a sudden change of heart inspired by yours truly. Yet, somehow, he doubt this had done anything to dissuade you.

Ghost watches you fix yourself, readjusting your hair and uniform to look as you did before. Happy with what you got, having just used him so. You share a few parting words, and then you step out.

And Ghost feels more a fool now than he had at the start of this.

Part Four Here!

@13thprogenitor ꒰ · ◡ · ꒱

#call of duty #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley #ghost mwii #ghost mw2 #modern warfare ii #mwii #call of duty modern warfare ii #mw2022 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost cod #Spotify

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krysmcscience · 9 days

Text

Aww, look at these cute lil kiddos, they couldn't possibly be-

-oh, wait, no, never mind. They're evil.

I'll clean up and color these sketches eventually. Also, goofy headcanon stuff under the readmore if anyone cares. XD;

The Mystic Seller's mention of Leshy's ascension to godhood got me wondering what sort of mortals the Bishops used to be before they were gods, and how the five of them are even siblings. Unless some Real Weird Genetic Fuckery is going on, I have severe doubts they're related by blood, so...Found Family...? Yes, please~ OuO

So now in my brainspace they start out as a bunch of wretched orphan kids, relying on each other to survive with their own unique skillsets, which they utilize with Extreme Prejudice against anyone who happens to be unfortunate enough to have what they need (food/gold, generally).

Shamura is the leader and tactician (and has some spellcasting know-how as a treat), Kallamar is the lookout and stealth killer (with poisons, though he'll resort to Weaponry Panic if things get dicey), Heket is the thief and explosives fanatic (watch out - she'll steal all your food and then go scorched earth on your crops to make sure you STARVE), and Leshy is the distraction master and trap-digger (and general menace who will bite people's faces). Meanwhile, Narinder gets the short end of the stick as usual, in that his only real skill is Kill People Dead - a silent assassin most times, following Shamura's lead to avoid putting him or his siblings in danger, but if he has to, he's equally fine with just rushing in and going ham with whatever weapons he can get his rude little hands on.

I haven't put much thought into most of their meetings - mainly just that (as the seemingly perpetual outlier of the five) Narinder was the last to be brought into their little family. He was already pretty decent at killing to survive, unwittingly massacred a camp of the quartet's latest targets on his own, fell into one of Leshy's pit traps on the way out, and was later found by both Leshy and Heket, who only resisted firebombing Narinder's fun new pit-home when Kallamar found their targets already dead, after which Shamura saw the value in offering Narinder a place in the family. Naturally, he accepted, since the choice was a logical one for survival's sake, but inwardly, he latched onto Shamura pretty hard as a source of guidance and companionship - and, eventually, comfort. Because I gotta add that lovely source of OOF.

The biggest OOF this headcanon creates, though, is that Narinder used to be the one protecting his siblings. :3c Until...ya know. They needed protecting from him. >:3c I do tend to headcanon the whole betrayal thing to be rather less unprovoked on his part, though, because I read too much into the few details canon gives us on that front, and this fucker has become my precious little meow meow, okay??? >:[

I needed to be in bed hours ago lol, why do I do this

#sketches #fanart #cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl bishops #cotl narinder #cotl leshy #cotl heket #cotl kallamar #cotl shamura #the marks on narinder's forehead are scars that eventually become his third eye i guess because why not? idk man i just work here #look- i can't be told that the bishops also betrayed narinder without immediately thinking there is so much more to his lashing out at them #because it just doesn't read like he's talking about them trying to seal him away for eternity after he literally attacked them all #granted - he COULD be lying - he IS a bastard like that #but given his quest line and general tsundere vibe i have my doubts #also LOOK i know kallamar is the one with the holy hand grenade - but hear me out #heket attacked me with bombs first and i took that very personally

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ravenwitch45 · 10 months

Note

Do you mind doing where Crimson has a Imp husband who is also his sugar daddy? (Weird idea ik lol)

Oh my! XP Weird Idea indeed but oddly fitting considering Crimson was kinda struggling finacially, why the wedding plan happened and all. Sure thing! I like writing Crimson being humbled and all.

Crimson with an Imp Husband Sugar Daddy S/O

It just kinda happened after the wedding plan was a bust. He needed money, so he ran into you at some fancy club, noticed several details hinting you were rich (Also had his men to read up on you cause he didn't want to be a sucker again) He offers a deal, you add the condition of him being your sugar baby, which flusters him greatly btw.

He swallows his pride after you explain the situation, though a day later cause he doesn't want to seem too desperate and bam, Crimson has a sugar daddy XP

Your very respectful to him, never treating him like a toy or servant, only asking if he could come over like once a week or sometimes visiting him but you take the no if he refuses, which he rarely does, still trying to treat this like a basic business deal so he's trying his best to fulfill his end.

You find it adorable how he tries so hard to be stonefaced even though he blushes like crazy doing stuff like kisses and cuddles, grumbling a lot. You often politely ask him for affection and stuff, but when he does it unprompted, you get all blushy and tease him on it, having him yell it doesn't mean anything as you kiss him on the cheek.

He's very rigid at first, a lot like Blitz is with Stolas, but after you make it clear you actually want him, and not just a person to fuck, he cools off, for a while it's more friends with benefits then anything, you chat and sometimes kiss and fuck (Which he won't admit he enjoys a lot more then he expected) but neither really consider yourselves truly dating.

You don't want to push him, and He's takes a while with his multisexual awakening, realizing he actually likes you, confessing to you drunk which you find adorable before bringing him to bed so he can sleep before the hangover in the morning, and then you discuss and get on the same page. Him blushing at how happy you seem about it, never really having that really, for good reason but still.

And after that it's a nice domestic relationship for a good while, he's a lot more relaxed with his empire going smooth with your funds added, and going to you as the day winds down to relax, you two going on dates and experimenting with stuff as couples do. You usually just bringing up his sugar baby status to fluster him.

C:Y-Y/N! You know I don't like you calling me that in public...

Y/N: Okay! Hey everybody this is my sexy boyfriend Crimson!

C, pulling his hat down with a blush as you put arm around him:

Y/N: You cute little grump~

C:I hate you...

Eventually one time you casually call him your hubby or husband, and he kinda freezes. He really likes you and the last person who called him that... well she didn't have a great time. And for a while he kinda closes himself off as he rakes his mind over it.

A few weeks after that he treats you to a surprise fancy dinner and proposes. Coming clean his last marriage didn't go well and it was his fault entirely, but he wants to do better with you, more then anything and he'd love if you'd give him that chance.

The hug and kiss he takes as a yes as he slips the ring onto your finger. Hugging and kissing you back, holding you closer then any wealth he's gained through this relationship, loving you with all his heart.

Okay there you go! Know it was more meeting to fiancé then actual hcs on the husbands relationship but this is long enough I feel. I enjoyed this one, never wrote a relationship like this so sorry if it's off, though I'll never get tired of writing Crimson's Queer awakening tbh XP Hope you enjoyed and thanks for sharing!

#ask reply #helluva boss #helluva crimson #crimson knolastname #helluva crimson x reader #crimson knolastname x reader #helluva boss x reader #x reader #x male reader #x male y/n #my writing

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chubs-deuce · 4 months

Note

Not a huge hazbin shipper but did U see the sneak peak? Charlie and Alastor in her bedroom… him being so comfy on her bed. Context? We dont speak cuz I can’t hear her over my blush

LKJFSDLKJHfL KJH DSLKJ FlkjDSHF klj<ds lkdfsah LKDJH lkdsH LKSD JHkdsjhks dfj g.yx,nv,mcnb öaoweri ht

LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OH MY GOD=??????

I NEED TO. BE NORMA L ABOUT FTHIS.

I might get back to this ask again and add to it with a reblog later when I've calmed tf down, for now you get incoherent and poorly formatted rambling under the cut to underline how hard this threw my brain for a spin just now skdjksdhf

[distressed ape noises]

not even bc of the ship potential of it (tho it was fucking potent I'm ngl) it's more how much he's seemingly working towards proposing a binding deal at last??

my god he's so scary good at manipulation

I am in DISTRESS to try and figure out how that's going to end up going holy FUCK

he's doing it all- the targeted jabs, kicking up some dust to get her mind back to the problem at hand, the way he's consistently only invading her personal space when he has an agenda, how he's offering up a seemingly personal detail about himself to soothe over her accusation of him not caring by neither confirming nor denying yet giving her the illusion of knowing more about him than before-

Like. The smile thing is as much advice as it is a hint about himself, yet also expresses absolutely nothing about what actually *is* going on underneath, it's only a hint about where to look - largely useless when one is as good at hiding their true intentions as he is-

sidenote how dare his spooky bitch ass be so comfortable rolling around her bed??

the trap has been opened wide this whole time, the lure is set; he has vital info that she wants- no, NEEDS, and he's about to deploy it when he has the most amount of leverage with it-

he just has to wait for her to come crawling and for it to snap shut around her

fuckckckckck the way this has me on my toes

THE THING IS-

This could all be genuine - we wouldn't fucking know! His true intentions are a mystery to us as the audience as of now; neither explicitly good nor bad - will she decline? be desperate enough to take it? Is there going to be an offer at all or is he just going to give the info to her and play the long con game of nurturing trust before striking even harder later???

LET ME DISSECT YOU AND LOOK INTO YOUR BRAIN I NEED TO FIGURE OUT WHAT YOUR FUCKING DEAL IS I'LL BE GENTLE I PROMISE-

He has so many aces up his stupid red fucking sleeves rn I'M SCARED, I'm SCREAMING

#GHOHGGHGOOOHHGH #chubs answers #oh my goddddd #hazbin hotel spoilers #charlastor #radiobelle

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darlingshane · 11 months

Text

Let it rip, Coach

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Searching for a new sponsor for the soccer team you coach leads you to meet and quickly fall in love with Michael.

Content/Warnings: Friends to lovers, Fluff, Crack, Alcohol, Eating, Kissing.

Word Count: 3,2k

— You can read below or at AO3.

“Hey, Cousin!” Richie taps on the frame of Michael's office door. “There's a woman here to see you.”

“Oh? Is she a health inspector or something?” He swivels in his chair, putting a pen down on the desk.

“No. Though, if she’s looking to inspect something, I’d be the perfect specimen to study.”

“That hot?”

“Smokin’ hot. Total knockout. Banging body,” his track suited friend remarks frivolously. “But as usual, she didn't want to do anything with me, cause I'll never stand a chance against the great Mikey Bear.”

“Don't be so hard on yourself, Cousin. Girls love those baby blues. It's when you open your mouth what makes them run in the other direction,” Michael taunts. “What does she want? Did she ask for me specifically?”

“She didn’t mention your name exactly. She requested an audience with the proprietor of this fine establishment.”

“Wow, those are big words, Cousin.” Michael rises from his chair, adjusting the waistband of his jeans.

“Well, I'm a big guy… If you know what I mean.”

“Unfortunately, I do know what you mean.” Scoffing, Michael palms his friend's back and walks out of the office.

They both head out of the kitchen, and Richie points him to the table with the woman, you, who asked to talk to the owner of the sandwich joint.

As he rounds the counter, he counts four young girls sitting around the table with you, ready to dig into the food they just got served.

“Hi, I'm Michael, the owner of this place,” he gestures vaguely with one hand in the air. “What can I do for you, ladies?”

After introducing yourself and the four pre-teens that came with you, one of them being your niece, you explain to Michael that you're the coach of the girls' soccer team. The reason for your visit is that you’re searching for a new sponsor for the team after losing the one you had.

Michael listens closely as you add a little more information, telling him that grew up in this neighborhood, and thought of asking a few businesses of the North River area.

“I dunno, girls… I don't know the first thing about soccer,” he runs a palm over his beard and then pushes his hair back.

“That’s okay, you don't really need to. You'd only have to cover uniforms. Think about your name being on every jersey. And I promise to bring the whole team here after every game. Right girls?”

They all respond in unison positively with mouths full of food.

“See? They love your food already. Think about the publicity. The games are always packed, let me tell you. Women's leagues are booming right now.”

“I don’t doubt that. What's your team's name?”

“The comets,” one of the girls responds.

“That's a great name. Are you guys good?”

“The best,” your niece boasts.

They're actually pretty good. Most of them have been playing for a couple of years before you started coaching them, and the new additions are quickly catching up.

“Okay, let me think about it.”

Michael goes back into his office, crunches some numbers, and by the time you've finished your food he's made out his mind. He accepts your offer, and you exchange numbers to stay in contact.

Two days later, you return to the restaurant to finalize the details. You show him a handful of the designs the girls, and you came up with, and go over a list of print shops in the area to choose one that meets your needs. You type all the details in your phone and head up together to the shop.

It's surprising to see him so invested in just a few days. When you place the final order for the jerseys, he adds one more to the bulk in his size, so he can wear his own to support the team.

You text occasionally for updates, but in between you've found yourself texting back and forth casually talking about your day, the restaurant, your other job… Michael is easy to talk to and quite the charmer, you’ve realized. It has made you wonder at times if he’s hitting on you or not, especially face to face. He’s always flashing a smile, or an innocent wink when you leave, that utterly dismantles you in ways you never thought possible.

When the new jerseys arrive, you make sure Michael gets his. You deliver it personally to the restaurant one night after he’s closed shop.

Your new friendship is strangely familiar. Michael slips into your life as if he'd always belonged there. He has an open heart. A big, contagious laugh; and a sweet smile that could make what's left of the poles completely melt. He's easy on the eyes, too, regardless of what he says. Much as everyone else on the planet, he has his faults too and one of them is the self-deprecating jokes he makes about his appearance, which are completely unfounded. The sharp angles of his face might not be up to classic beauty standards, and that's what actually makes him stand out in the crowd.

You adore his passion about food and his business, and how much confidence oozes out of every pore of his body. It's really disarming. And despite the fact that he almost never shuts up, he's a great listener too when it’s your turn to share.

Quiet has settled after everyone has left the restaurant, all the lights are down except for the ones coming from the neon sign above the counter and the vending machine. He sits backwards on the chair across from yours and slides a beer along the table. You stay right there, swapping life stories, sap anecdotes, fun moments of your life, anything, and everything in between like two old friends hanging out.

A couple of hours go by like nothing, while the table collects empty bottles.

“Last one,” you pick up your third beer, hold it to your lips and take a long swig as the chef timidly nods at your statement.

“Can I ask you something?” his tone mellows from its usual volume.

“Shoot.”

“Would it be unprofessional to ask you out?”

“No, I don't think so,” the corners of your mouth curl up nervously as your nails try to remove the sticker on the glass of your beer. “We don't really work together.”

“That's right. Would you say yes if I asked you out, though?”

“Hm, maybe.”

“Don't give me — maybe. Yes or no only, sweetheart,” his head tilts to the side, trying to capture the truth behind your eyes in the faint neon lighting striking across your face.

“I guess I wouldn't mind if you did.”

“I guess — is not an answer either.”

You take a deep breath and let him hang for a second while you put a couple of thoughts together.

“Not everyone is as confident and decisive as you are, Berzatto. Some people need a little time to process things,” you pause to gather some insight. “And you already know that I like you and wouldn't be asking if I didn't. So yeah… If you asked, I'd say yes.”

“That's all I needed to hear,” a grin splits his face as he tilts his beer up to take a gulp.

“Sooo… are you going to ask me now?”

“Eh, not right now. I just needed to know,” he quips.

“Suit yourself, but don't wait too long,” you say casually, as if it didn’t care as much whether he asks you out or not. You do. And it’s a relief to find out that he likes you back and that he's open to pursue something more than a friendship. It's hard to click with people that fast, but with Michael, it has felt too easy. They say you find love in the most unexpected places. You definitely weren’t looking for it when you came into his joint just a few weeks ago, and now it’s hard to imagine your life without him.

When you pull your phone out of your pocket to look at the time, it's way later than you thought.

Michael walks you to the L, and before the train arrives, he asks you right on the platform if you'd like to have dinner with him sometime.

Obviously, you say yes.

As the train slips into the station, you lean in and kiss his cheek goodnight, letting your lips meet the edge of his beard. His mouth takes the form of a pleased grin, and as you step inside the car, he tucks his hands in his pockets and watches you occupy a seat by the window. You stare at him for a long moment behind the glass as the doors slide close until the train is set in motion.

Texting the next day, you set up your date for the following week on a day you’re both free.

Before that day comes, you have also a very important event on your schedule that is the first game of the season.

Though the chef initially wasn’t going to come, Michael decides to surprise you by showing up on that day.

“Hey, Coach,” you hear his lively voice from behind while the girls warm up on the field.

You turn your head to see him wearing his jersey, and a blue baseball cap set backwards that shows his hair sticking out behind his ears. It’s impossible to stop the corners of your mouth from pointing out automatically as he walks up to you.

“Hey, Chef. Didn't know you were coming.”

“Yeah, it was last minute. You made it sound so good, I wanted to see you in action.”

“What about the shop?”

“Left Richie in charge for a couple of hours.”

“Are you sure that was a good idea?”

He balances his head from side to side, “as long as he doesn't burn it, I think it'll be fine.”

“Well, I'm glad you came. You should take a seat before it's too late,” you gesture at the bleachers, almost packed.

“Yeah, I’ll leave you to it. Let it rip, Coach,” he winks at you, and takes a seat in one of the middle rows on the bleachers.

You still have a dopey smile plastered on your face when the game starts. On occasion, you glance over your shoulder to see him cheer and root for the girls when they have the ball. His enthusiasm, and voice, increases during the second half when the team dominates the game, earning their first victory of the season.

As promised, you take the whole team to The Beef for a celebratory meal afterward.

During Michael's absence, Richie has set up a few tables together to fit the full team, and while they eat their food you park your butt on a stool at the counter, so you can chat with Michael.

“I need to run something by you,” he's on the other side of the counter, propped on his forearms.

“What?”

“It's about our date. I was thinking that I could make you dinner instead of going to a restaurant.”

“Here?”

“No, we already spent too much time here. I thought maybe you could come over to my place, or I could go to yours and just… chill.”

“Chill, huh?” you lift a french fry from your plate and take a bite.

“Yeah, but not like that,” he bashfully scratches his neck. “It’d be just dinner with no strings or expectations. Maybe it’s unusual for a first date, but just wanna spend a nice time alone with you and cook something you’d love. Have a couple of ideas that you’d… but if you wanna do something else…”

You stare at him while he rambles. It's refreshing to see him nervous for once.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

“What if I had some expectations other than dinner?” you playfully raise an eyebrow.

“I guess I wouldn't be opposed to that.”

“You guess? That's not an answer,” you echo back his own words from when you gave him a similar response.

He presses his teeth on his bottom lip for a beat, “no, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to take it farther.”

“Which it's what you wanted all along,” you tease.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Coach. My intentions are just making you dinner. That's it. Anything that happens after, it's really up to you.”

“Say, Richie,” you call for his friend's attention as he comes out of the kitchen. “What would you think if a guy invited you for dinner at his house on a first date?”

“I’d say he’d only be interested in wetting his whistle. Why? Are you going on a date with this puto?” Richie claps Michael’s shoulder.

“Uh-huh.”

“Wow, you must be special. He hardly ever invites anyone to his place. Last time he did, it was-”

“Shut up, Cousin,” Michael cuts him off, annoyed by the fact that's actually true. It's been a long time since he's wanted to actually bring someone home that felt right.

“Like I said, I never stood a chance against Mikey Berzzato,” Richie nods at you and circles outside the counter to check on the tables.

“Aww, am I that special?” you wonder once Richie is out of hearing range.

His gaze falls to look at his hands, as he tentatively extends one to caress your fingertips with his,“I think you are really, really special.”

You stare at those fingers, brushing softly the inside of your hand, making your stomach flutter.

“Did it bother you that I involved Richie in this?”

“No, sweetheart. It didn't. Well… Maybe a little.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. It's just… I love Richie, but he knows a lot of stuff about me that could change your opinion about me, and I don't want you to get the wrong impression, you know?”

“Michael, I already got a pretty good impression of you. Especially after showing up like you did today. There's nothing he can say that would ruin that.”

He lets out a small snort, “give him time.”

“You know what? I'd love to have dinner at your place.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

You don't have many rules when it comes to dating. Common sense and your gut are what guide you most of the time. When something feels muddy, you back up immediately. And when something feels good, nothing can stop you from pursuing that, you're off to the races. The latter hasn't happened that often, admittedly. Hopefully, this is one of those times.

In the short time you've known Michael, you've only gotten a deep sense of longing for him, growing eager every passing day. It's hard to ignore it anymore.

Following that desire, you dress up, do your hair, put some makeup on, and take the train to Michael's apartment with no hesitation. There is some natural anxiousness rumbling in your stomach, of course, but that doesn’t stop you from chasing that thrill.

When you knock on his door, Michael welcomes you with the most beautiful smile you've ever seen, splitting his freshly-groomed beard. He’s out of his usual work clothes and has chosen a casual outfit that consists of a dress black shirt, half unbuttoned, and a pair of jeans.

“Shall we?” he offers his hand, inviting you in. You take it and let him walk you inside.

As he closes the door, you take off your jacket, scanning every detail of the modest apartment. The lights are dimmed, and he's set up the dining table with two lit candles in red-tinted glasses, and a small centerpiece of flowers. There's light music playing on his phone that's hooked to a speaker system next to the TV. The delicious smell of the food incites your appetite as he moves your chair back, like a gentleman, so you can sit.

“Fancy,” you hum as you take your seat.

“Glad you like it, sweetheart.”

He then leaves for a moment to collect the food from the kitchen and returns with two plates filled with paella. As appetizing as it looks, it tastes vastly better. He really has absorbed a lot of information about you during those casual hang-outs. Not only knows how to please your stomach with Mediterranean food, but you're also granted the best conversationalist, as usual, he's a downright delight to be around.

For dessert, he keeps outdoing himself by bringing out a homemade tiramisu he made earlier. He serves one big serving on a plate, and lays it down in the middle of the table to share with you.

“Do you like it?”

“Hm, this is the best thing I've ever had in my mouth. You'll have to teach me how to make it someday,” you request, picking another spoonful. “Would you?”

“Sure.”

“I'm torn,” you say, enjoying the delectable alcohol-soaked bottom layer on your tongue.

“How so?”

“Because – I really want to kiss you right now for making all this, but I don’t think your mouth can’t top this.”

“You’ll have to try me,” he snorts, scooping his way through the other half of the tiramisu.

“Hm, we’ll see,” you grin. “You really outdid yourself here, Chef. You shouldn't have made something so delicious.”

“I'll take it down a notch next time.”

When dessert is over, you make a quick trip to the bathroom to empty your bladder while he puts the dishes away to wash later.

He has sat down on the couch when you come out, and you stop for a beat in the middle of the hallway before deciding to sit sideways right on his lap.

“Excuse me, Sir. Is this seat taken?” you ask right after plopping your ass on his thighs.

“It is, now,” scoffing, he links an arm around your waist. “Is it comfortable, ma'am?”

“Best seat in the house,” you can’t fight the smile taking over your lips.

“You're really something else, sweetheart,” he hushes oh so softly, as his free palm lands on your denim-clad leg.

“So are you,” your head leans forward, touching his forehead.

Biting your bottom lip, eyes locked, you both go silent for a long moment while you get used to feeling his hands on you, and vice versa. His thumb absentmindedly draws circles on your leg while you play with the hair of his beautiful beard.

“I think I wanna make out now,” you whisper.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

Drawing a breath, he brings one hand to frame your jaw, letting a thumb swipe across your lip slowly. Then, his tongue juts out to wet his lips, his face leans an inch closer to capture your mouth. Your stomach flutters and your skin buzzes at the firm grip of his hand on your hip while you taste the waters without fully diving into the deep end. You let your mouths bounce together and get used to that little intimacy you’ve just created with him. When you’re ready to fully dip further, he opens his mouth wider, and so do you, and before you realize it, you're devouring each other's faces. Firmly but sweetly, your tongues play together with ease as the tight seal of your lips shuts every change for air to escape or intrude. You close your eyes and free yourself of any thought, so you can enjoy this right here, right now, with him.

#michael berzatto #michael berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear #the bear fx #jon bernthal #jon bernthal fanfiction #darlingwrites #fluff

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canirove · 10 months

Text

Rúben Dias Imagine | five

Author’s note: Someone on Wattpad asked me for more Rúben and I told them that with him I get randomly inspired, and that’s what happened here after seeing him at Bernardo’s wedding 😁 A little summary would be that you are together at the wedding, and since Rúben and alcohol aren’t the best of friends, he ends up saying something that he should’t have 👀 Hope you like it and thank you for reading! 💜

Masterlist

*Female reader/pov

"Are you sure you can't see anything?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"And from this angle?"

"Nothing."

"And if I do this? Rúben… Rúben!"

"You can't see anything, I already told you" he sighs.

"You aren't even looking at me!"

"Yes, I am."

"I can see you through the mirror's reflection, and you are looking at your phone."

"Because we are gonna be late, that's why."

"Then tell me if you can see anything!"

"You can't see anything from any angle" he says, getting up from the bed. "And besides, it's not like people will be looking at you."

"Oh wow, thank you" I reply.

"They won't because their eyes will be on Bernardo and Ines. It's their wedding, remember?" he chuckles.

"I know. But they will still look at me. I am attending with you by my side, and you are wearing a suit. It's impossible to not look."

"And that's why no one will be paying you much attention or analyzing every detail on your outfit. They'll be too busy looking at me" Rúben smirks.

"Idiot" I say, rolling my eyes. "Though you are probably right."

"I am. And I also am right when I tell you that you can't see anything, and that you look beautiful. You always do, don't get me wrong. But lately a lot more. And I love the reason why" he smiles.

"I wish I felt as beautiful as you think I look, tho" I sigh.

"I don't think you look beautiful. I know it, it's a fact. And if we don't leave now, us being late to the ceremony will also be a fact."

"Fine" I say, taking the hand he is offering me and looking at myself in the mirror one last time. You can't see anything.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Kiss, kiss, kiss!" everyone chants, Bernardo and Ines kissing for the millionth time.

"They are gonna end up fed up with each other if you keep asking them to kiss" I laugh.

"Them? Maybe. But I will never get tired of kissing you" Rúben says with a cheeky smile.

"Never?" I ask, arching an eyebrow.

"Never" he says before kissing me.

"Eww, you taste like champagne. How many glasses have you had already?"

"I don't know" he shrugs.

"Rúben, you and alcohol aren't a good combination."

"I'm fine. This is just champagne."

"Let that be your last glass, please" I say as he pours himself another one. "I want to be able to dance with you later."

"It will, I promise" he smiles before drinking half of it in one go.

"Rúben! It's time for our speech!" João says, walking towards our table.

"Oh, shit. Did you bring what we wrote?"

"I did" João smiles. "Shall we?"

"Yes" Rúben says, finishing his drink.

"Wait" I say, grabbing his hand as he gets up.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine, don't worry. Just…"

"Urgh, don't bite your lip like that. I can’t control myself when you do it" he says, sitting down again and kissing me. It is a sloppy kiss, one that tells me that the last glass of champagne he drank was all he needed to be officially drunk.

"Don't say or do anything stupid, ok?" I say when we break apart.

"Me? Never" he laughs.

"João…"

"I'll take care of him, don't worry" he smiles. "Now let's go."

"Yes, let's go. I love you, gorgeous" Rúben says, kissing me one last time.

"I love you" I reply, fearing the worst.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"And that's how we met Ines" João says, Rúben loudly laughing next to him. "Anything else you would like to add?"

"Yes!" Rúben says, taking the microphone.

"Oh, God" I whisper, already covering my face with one hand.

"Ines, I'm sorry about that day. It won't happen again. Hopefully" he laughs. "And if your husband here doesn't leave us this summer, I promise that this season I will treat him well. No more hitting him or scaring him or things like that. He's gonna be a dad now! Berni! A dad! So happy for you, bro. I can't wait for our kids to play together in a few months, it's gonna be the best!" Rúben laughs again.

"Wait what?" Bernardo says as he, Ines, and basically everyone in the room turn their heads to look at me. Great. Just great.

"Oh, fuck, shit" Rúben says, still talking through the microphone. "No one knows yet. Well, our parents do. But no one else. And now everyone does! You were all worried about your bump showing on that dress and I oops!" he laughs. "I'm going to be a dad!"

"Can you please shut up" I whisper, my eyes fixed on him.

"I'm going to be a dad. With the woman I love. The most amazing woman in the world. I love you, gorgeous. I love you so much!"

"I love you too" I smile, this time talking loud enough so he can hear me, people now looking from him to me and back at him.

"I love you so much! So so much! I want to spend the rest of my life with you! And with our kids! Because that baby won't be the last one, trust me. We love making babies" Rúben smirks.

"Ok, I think that's enough" João says, taking the microphone from his hand.

"I love you!" Rúben shouts one last time before leaving the small stage and starting to walk towards our table, a stupid smile on his face. Though he doesn't make it to where I am, his eyes going wide before running away.

"Oh God" I say, getting up and following him outside.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Here" I say, giving him a Kleenex.

"Thank you" Rúben whispers. "And I'm sorry."

"About what? Embarrassing yourself and me in front of everyone, telling them I am pregnant when I have been trying to hide it because I am not ready to share the news yet, or vomiting on one of the flowerpots outside the venue?"

"All of it?" he says, looking at me with puppy eyes.

"I told you to stop drinking."

"I know."

"Then why didn't you listen to me?"

"Because I was happy and I wanted to celebrate! I wanted to celebrate Bernardo and Ines, and us, and our baby, and I just…" he shrugs.

"You can also celebrate while drinking water. Alcohol isn't necessary."

"That's what I will do from now on. I promise."

"Sure" I snort.

"I promise" he says, clumsily getting up from the floor. "I want to do it for you. Both of you" Rúben says, putting his hand on my tiny bump, the one that no one had noticed. Until now.

"Do you think they are mad?"

"Who?"

"Bernardo and Ines. We just kind of crushed their wedding" I chuckle.

"Nah. They probably are a bit shocked, but not mad."

"We can't go back there just yet, tho. People were already looking at us because I have the hottest date, and if we go now, we'll be the center of attention, not them. And they still have to do their first dance and all that."

"Then let's wait. I could do with some fresh air."

"You definitely could, yes" I laugh.

"And earlier they were looking at you. You are the hot date today, not me" Rúben says, moving his hands to my waist and pulling me closer to him.

"Are you trying to flatter me so I forget everything you just did?" I say, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Maybe… Is it working?"

"Kind of" I smile.

"Then I'll have to try harder" he says, leaning forward to kiss me.

"Rúben, no, eww!" I say, taking a step back.

"What is it?"

"Your breath smells like shit!"

"Oh, fuck, sorry" he apologizes. "We'll leave that for later, then."

"Please and thank you" I laugh.

"Do you still love me, though?" he says, closing the space between us once again.

"So so much I want to spend the rest of my life with you" I say with a teasing smile.

"Laugh at me all you want, but I was telling the truth."

"I know. But next time let's keep it more private."

"Ok" Rúben laughs. "I love you, gorgeous."

"I love you too" I smile.

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fanfic #football imagine #football fanfic #rubenimagine

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ringsofsaturnnnn · 6 months

Note

SATURN

Oh my god I love the crow club thing you came up with! It has such a dark risky air to it (like a casino, I suppose) and I love it.

I'm here to participate!

I'd like to play poker. I'll bet with the light blue chips (which you probably already knew). I'll have a shirly temple to drink please. Details of my order include: going with Armin to see snow for the first time (having already seen it yourself) and playing in it, having a snowball fight, snowmen, pictures, modern au, you can add other characters to the scenario like mikasa or eren if you feel like it (or only include Armin in the scene, that's wonderful too). Gn reader please as best you can, I'll leave the rest up to you.

That's all!

Stay safe lovely, rest well tonight <3

.˚ ❄️┊..⃗. 𝘀𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗮𝘆 ⌇

a.arlert x gn!reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: introducing your boyfriend to the snow <3

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴) :: petnames

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 :: ahhh this was so cute! thank you for being so patient with me, april, while i got your request done! this was my first time writing a gn reader, so i hope i did an okay job! the end got a little messy, but i tried. fluff isn’t my forte 😭

𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥

tag list :: n/a

it wasn’t fair. it really wasn’t.

his ocean blue eyes were so entrancing that you couldn’t help but stare at them. letting out a soft sigh, you felt yourself get lost within the vastness of blue. if you weren’t careful, you felt like you might get lost at sea gazing into them.

“love? honey? angel? baby? love of my life?” shaking your head, you realized that your boyfriend, armin, was trying to get your attention. his cheeks were a soft pink color, a result of your staring. “oh, sorry. what’s up?” you flashed him one of your million dollar smiles, making his heart melt even more.

“i was just uhm, i was wondering. what’s that?” he pointed outside your window. turning your head, you realized that it had began to snow. laughing, you turned back to him. “min, that’s snow. have you.. have you never seen it before?” when he shook his head you couldn’t help but give him an incredulous look.

“how have you never seen the snow before?!” getting up, you immediately grabbed his hand and started pulling him towards the door. “wait! it’s cold outside! we need to bundle up!” armin exclaimed. groaning, you let go of him so you both could put your coats and hats on. armin was always so worried about you.

“okay, okay. now let’s go!” throwing the door open, you pulled him outside after you. armin was immediately shivering despite his warm hat and coat. without a second thought, you threw your head back and opened your mouth, trying to catch some of the flakes in your mouth.

“love, what are you doing?” armin laughed, his blue eyes watching every move you made. “i’m catching snowflakes.” your explained, tilting your head to look at him. “you try it!” snowflakes had landed on your cheeks and eyelashes. “uhm.. okay?” he mimicked your actions, laughing when a few landed in his mouth. “this.. this is fun!” he smiled.

by the next day, much more snow had gathered. at least three or four inches.

deciding to take advantage of the snow, you hastily pulled on your coat and hat once more. armin was still fast asleep, so you decided you’d leave him be. he could join you later.

rushing outside, you immediately plopped down in the snow, laughing at the coolness that suddenly seeped through your coat. the fluffiness tickled your cheeks and you couldn’t help but close your eyes to help protect them from the blinding white of the snow.

exhaling, you enjoyed the slight sting that shot through your nose when you inhaled once more. continuing to lay there in your own little world, you didn’t even notice that armin had came outside until he was calling your name.

lifting your head, you smiled at him before waving him over. “come here! make a snow angel with me!” while he looked confused, he did as you asked. making his way through the snow, he carefully plopped down beside you. “a snow angel?” he repeated.

nodding, you explained to him what to do. “o-okay.” he followed your directions as you made your own snow angel beside him. once you were both done, you helped each other up. looking down, a smile crossed your face. “look at our snow angels!” you giggled, turning your face to look at him.

his nose and cheeks were a soft pink color as he smiled down at you. “yeah, i see them.” he murmured before pressing his ice cold lips to your cheek. squealing, you immediately scooted away from him. “min! your lips are freezing!” you laughed. armin laughed at your comment, shaking his head. “well it’s cold outside! what do you expect?”

while he spoke, you had carefully made a snowball. once he was done speaking, you threw it at his chest, listening as it hit his coat. “hey!” he gasped. giggling, you immediately took off running. “get back here!” he tried to chase after you as you gathered more snow.

the two of you ran around like little kids, smiles decorating both of your features as you launched snowball after snowball at one another. after a few minutes, you tackled armin into a snow drift. his eyes widened as you landed on top of him.

looking down, you couldn’t help but laugh. both of your chests were heaving as you looked into each other’s eyes. “i love you.” armin whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. returning the kiss, you carefully wrapped your arms around him.

the two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms in the snow drift, content smiles on your faces. however, it wasn’t long before you were climbing off of him.

“we should make a snowman!” armin gave you a look, one that you were familiar with. “a snowman?” he echoed. nodding your head, you laughed. “here! i’ll show you how.”

it wasn’t long before the two of you had created a snowman. “and now..” you searched around to find some rocks. once you did, you arranged them to look like eyes and buttons. “we also need sticks!” you gasped before scurrying off to find some sticks. “love?” armin was quick to follow after you.

once you had everything, you reached for armin’s hat. “hey! what are you-“ looking down at you, he frowned. his light blue stocking hat was now in your hands. “give that back.” shaking your head, you placed it on the snowman’s head.

“it’s the snowman’s now!” you laughed.

“you are ridiculous, you know that?”

laughing, you turned your head to look at him. your eyes met and you couldn’t help but sigh happily. snow had began to fall down around you once again, but you didn’t notice. all you could focus on were those ocean blue eyes of his..

main picture & dividers made by :: @strrynigghts

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