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metalbuckaroo · 3 months

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The Chase

Summary// "we had a deal, my dove. You promised."

AU// WinterSoldier!Bucky x F!Reader

Warnings// chasing kink, unprotected sex, smut, a yank to the hair, cursing, use of petnames- dove, dovey

Note// I think I'm a little rusty, but I'm also beyond tired rn so it could also be that ehsudienaua. This is a part two to the Black Mail fic I did for kinktober many moons ago

"Who is he?" He was everywhere. His gruff voice echoing through the trees, surrounding you as you frantically looked around. Trying to find a way out of this situation. "I don't share, dove."

He was right behind you, your legs working before your mind to carry you in the opposite direction. Lungs burning from the cold night air as his dark chuckle faded in the distance.

But, he was quick and quiet. Moving just as fast as you could look over your shoulder before slamming into what could only be described as a wall of pure muscle, sending you falling back onto the leaf covered ground.

"Please- James, please. I'm sorry." You pleaded, tears stinging your eyes as he stood over you. The same mask Hydra forced him to wear covering the lower portion of his face.

He kneeled down, denim blues dark with something you couldn't place. "I won't ask again. Who. Is. He."

"Your way out! Please, just let me go. I still have a week!" The metal of his left hand gleamed in the moonlight as he reached his hand out to grasp your chin. Pupils blown and touch gentle.

"I'll give you a headstart. You have three minutes, dovey." You just stared at him wide eyed, chest heaving and heart hammering against your ribcage. "Run."

As if on instinct, you scrambled to your feet, trying to find your footing to dart back into the darkness the trees provided.

You knew you couldn't go much longer, your aching muscles sending pains through your legs each time your feet would hit the ground. There was no use in running anyways, he'd always win.

"We had a deal, my dove. You promised." You swore you could hear the grit of his teeth when you'd stopped, so close to giving in as you leaned your forehead against the rough bark of a nearby tree. Fingers curving against the wood. "You're just like them."

"No, I'm not." You heaved, trying to take a moment to catch your breath.

"I saw you with him at that diner. You're suppose to be mine."

His voice was getting closer, making you bite down on the inside of your cheeks to take some of the attention away from the burning in your legs before taking off again.

Though, you didn't make it far before fingers curled in the back of your hair. Crying out when he barely yanked to make you stop.

"I was doing what I was told. You want out, I have to find someone who can do that." You tried to reason, words not coming easy from the way he had your head craned back. His warm right arm snaking around your waist to pull you against him.

"Lies." He seethed, calloused fingers slipping under your shirt. "I've dreamt of you. Craved you. Now I finally have you again. I've been so cold without you my sweet dove."

Your body gave in the moment nimble fingers flicked the button of your pants open.

There was something twisted inside of you that liked the chase, the constant looming feeling you'd had over the weeks since you'd last seen him- like he was just lying in wait for the right moment.

It was hard to think of much else than the last time you'd saw him. The drag of his fingers against your skin, the way his lips seared kisses to your throat- much like now, cold and warm hands dragging against your sides as your fingers worked at the tactical belt that kept you from what you were truly after.

The ground freezing against your bare back not slowing you from getting what you craved.

It seemed to take ages for James to notice your struggle, his hands replacing your own to easily pull open the buckle as yours went to unclip the mask. Carelessly tossing it into the leaves to pull his lips to yours.

The hunger behind his kiss fueled you, your fingers weaving through his long locks and legs going around his waist to pull him closer. Swallowing breaths and quiet grunts as his hand fumbled to grasp his shaft.

The shudder that rolled through your body as he pressed into you was enough to send your mind reeling, everything else around you fading away and your senses overwhelmed by only him as he found his pace. Short, hard thrusts rocking your body- sending shocks of pure pleasure shooting down your legs.

You'd missed how full he made you feel. An emptiness left behind in his absence, his touch electric as he groped at your chest and left sloppy kisses along your throat. Deep moans vibrating against the skin, mixing with your whines in the cold night air.

"Can feel you milking me, dovey. Make a mess, show me who I belong to." James panted, drinking in the pleasure drunk scrunch of your face as your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Wedging his arm under you for a better angle, he didn't change his pace. Taking the opportunity to slot his lips over yours when you cried out in bliss, swallowing the sultry sound as your cunt clamped around him. His hips jerked forward at the feeling, the swirling sensation at his base building until he couldn't take it anymore- spilling into you with a huffed grunt.

The warmth of his body was quickly replaced with the night air, goosebumps prickling your skin as you whined in response. The dull ring in your ears making it hard to focus as you found your jeans to redress.

"One more week, dove. Better hurry."

#bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barns imagine #ws!bucky #ws!bucky smut #winter soldier!bucky barnes #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader #chasing kink #bucky barnes smut

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astonmartinii · 8 months

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loving on a sunday | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x reader

y/n and lando, the grid and an honest attempt at a sunday roast

masterlist if you want to leave a tip x

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 601,239 others

yourusername: warning !! do not own a nice country house and farm because you will get lumped with the annual post season grid dinner, SEB PLEASE COME BACK I CAN"T TAKE THIS RESPONSIBILITY @landonorris what are you going to do when they find out you can't cook?

view all comments

user1: learning that lando can't cook is the least surprising thing in the entire world

user2: i'm sorry post season grid dinner? brb just going to cry my eyes out why haven't we heard of this before

user3: for my mental health i need photographic evidence asap

landonorris: way to bait me out in front of the whole world, thanks babe

yourusername: i'm sorry but if this crashes and burns i need people to know that it was your fault (because it defo would be)

landonorris: where is the faith? you back me to win every race but won't back me to make some roast potatoes :(

yourusername: babe when i was sick you burnt the soup so bad we had to throw the pan out

landonorris: I TRIED I WAS STRESSED YOU WERE SICK

yourusername: awwww babe, but it was le crueset and literally cost more than my life

sebastianvettel: it's been an honour to host it but i know you and lando will do great, send me all the photos !

yourusername: thank you seb, please come visit the farm at some point xx

landonorris: see i knew seb would have faith in me thanks mate

user4: lando's gf being a farm girl makes so much sense but also no sense what so ever

yourusername: tis the south west babe it's either banksy or farmers and nothing in between

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername and 1,023,677 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: should be peeling potatoes right now she's too pretty

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user10: oh to be a kitty cat being cuddled by y/n

yourusername: you're such a smooth talker babe but those potatoes won't peel themselves

landonorris: my years of being teammates with carlos has come in clutch

yourusername: you still suck at flirting i just love you so i still swoon, any other person would probably laugh in your face

landonorris: gonna ignore the insult and focus on the fact that you love me

user11: i swear every time i see y/n she's with another animal i've never seen before

yourusername: my farm is a safe haven for any animal, if they find themselves there they'll leave with a full tummy and a good load of cuddles

maxverstappen1: if lando is on potato duty does this mean we won't get them? they're my favourite part of a roast y/n PLEASE STEP IN

landonorris: oh wow i see how it is

maxverstappen1: i'm dutch i'm so serious about my potatoes

landonorris: i also don't fuck around about roast potatoes HAVE FAITH

user12: can we start a petition for lando to stream this? like at least the cooking portion

yourusername: watching my nervous breakdown live would not be ethical

landonorris: it's true she threw a carrot at my head the first time she cooked for my family

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and 590,455 others

tagged: yourusername, landonorris

oscarpiastri: officially a farm boy for the week (also known as third wheeling for seven days)

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user15: omg oscar went early? my mclaren heart is so full

yourusername: so so happy to have you here osc!! though you're not any more trustworthy in the kitchen

oscarpiastri: i'd defend myself but we've all seen me fail to boil an egg

yourusername: you tried your best !! but you've mastered the english tea which is a massive asset

oscarpiastri: i think i'd lose my seat if i couldn't make a cup of tea

user16: obsessed with y/n dragging everyone for being menaces in the kitchen

user17: love how oscar was like: post lando? no. post ducks? yes.

landonorris: mate you asked to come early don't complain about third wheeling now

oscarpiastri: i know i asked to come early but if y'all could lay off the soft porn for two seconds would be appreciated

landonorris: don't pretend you don't enjoy it mate ;)

yourusername: lando don't be mean :(

landonorris: i'm sorry oscar, i'm sure you don't enjoy watching us be happy

oscarpiastri: thanks i guess?

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,034,560 others

charles_leclerc: sad to announce i've been banned from the kitchen:( even banned from making drinks as well

view all comments

user18: this is defo the banning i agree with, we all saw the vlog with the pesto pasta

user19: tbf i've come to the conclusion the one person y/n would let into the kitchen is seb

yourusername: you're not wrong

user20: i need a chick in my dungarees right now

yourusername: why are you complaining about a free pass to sit on the couch and have someone else cook for you?

charles_leclerc: well when you put it like that ....

landonorris: let me revoke all of my previous complaints

yourusername: you know i like to treat you baby

charles_leclerc: why thank you y/n but that's an inappropriate thing to say while in a relationship

yourusername: it was in reply to lando's comment charles 😭

landonorris: guy forgot he could read for a second

charles_leclerc: MY BAD

user21: i know charles didn't come to a farm in all white

yourusername: i regret to inform you he did (it's all designer as well)

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 702,340 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: sunday roasts are my love language, so happy to host the grid dinner with the love of my life

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user23: at first i thought she was being a bit too serious about this but that roast looks like it BANGS

user24: legit i need one asap

georgerussell63: carmen wants the recipe please and thank you

yourusername: bring her to the farm next time we're free and i'll teach her in person

carmenmundt: thank you darling

yourusername: anything for you

landonorris: ummm what about the guy you called the love of your life in the caption?

yourusername: i love you but i've tried to teach you to cook way too many times

user25: i'm sorry lando is so sexy

user26: forget lando, every pic i've seen of this house is the sexiest thing in the world

carlossainz55: thank you for hosting y/n and lando!! i had a great time see you on new years

yourusername: no worries chilli

maxverstappen1: the roast was the best thing i've ever eaten, i'll only dock points because i had to top and tail with daniel

yourusername: i didn't see you complain when i walked in on you guys cuddling

danielricciardo: you told me you loved it :(

maxverstappen1: i did !!! i enjoyed all of it, especially the roast though

landonorris: second to a roast @danielricciardo that's tough

landonorris

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,208,943 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: so honoured to host the grid dinner and take over from such an inspiration in seb!! but mostly thanks to y/n for hosting at her farm and putting together an amazing dinner and weekend - also thanks for not killing the grid, i defo would have

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user27: i would've given a kidney to be there for real

lewishamilton: thank you for having us and for the sick nut roast

yourusername: we love you and roscoe !! and vegans are always welcome on my farm

user28: ROSCOE WENT?

yukitsunoda0511: thank you y/n i no longer think that english food is an abomination

yourusername: wow thank you yuki, i knew it would be hard when your only exposure was ... milton keynes

landonorris: wow my girlfriend is a miracle worker, and you're welcome yuki san we loved having you

user29: watching lando go from rookie to hosting the grid dinner, i'm soft

oscarpiastri: i love it here i'm sorry you're not getting rid of me

yourusername: no worries osc, you can stay as long as you want

landonorris: no complaining about third wheeling though, you're basically our child now

user30: experienced racer and rookie teammate friendships are so special to ME

danielricciardo: glad i managed to get my seat back just for this roast tbf

landonorris: not cause you missed me?

danielricciardo: eh i guess so

yourusername: just let me know when you're in england and you can come over for another

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris insta au #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine

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puckbunnyera · 2 months

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New Friend | Luke Hughes

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

genre: fluff (?)

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none

notes: first time writing on this account. will probably end up taking this down or heavily editing as my writing progresses because I'm not sure if I like this one. we'll see 🤷🏽‍♀️.

update: link to part 2 here

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

The smell of sweat, alcohol, and cigarette smoke overwhelms my senses as I sit at a booth in the corner of an overcrowded bar that my two best friends have dragged me to in Newark. Nausea swirls in my stomach at the sight of all the intoxicated bodies dancing and stumbling around me. After accompanying them to an intense hockey game between the New Jersey Devils and Chicago Blackhawks, ending with a 4-2 win for the Devils, they had decided that the success of their favorite team called for a celebration.

Not much of a party person, I decide to hang back at a table and keep watch of their belongings while they leave to go dance the night away amongst the other drunk people who litter the bar. To ease the anxious feeling in my chest, I pull my phone from my crossbody bag and open up my Kindle app. I choose the book I have recently been invested in, and I quickly become immersed in it. I'm not sure how much time passes by but I'm just reaching a really intense part in the storyline when a male voice grabs my attention.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Lifting my gaze from my phone screen, I meet with the gaze of a very handsome stranger. Shyness begins to take over as I realize that he's talking to me. My words leave me as I continue to stare at the guy in front of me. My lack of response must come off as apprehension because he quickly begins to apologize.

"Sorry if I scared you." He starts. "The bar is pretty packed and all of the tables are full. My friends ditched me to join the crowd and I'm not really a fan of these types of outings."

"It's fine," I reply as words finally find their way into my brain and out of my mouth. "I don't mind." I gesture to the empty seat at the other side of the booth.

"Cool." He nods, sitting down. "I'm Luke, by the way."

"Y/n." I respond. "Nice to meet you."

"I like your jersey." He refers to the Devil's apparel that I'm still wearing from the game I'd attended earlier in the night.

"Uh, thanks." A blush rises to my cheeks at the unexpected compliment. "It was the first jersey I saw in my size at the fan shop so I bought it."

"I'm assuming you're not a Devil's fan, then."

"Not really." I shrug. "My friends are though. I don't know much about hockey, but they love it. They convinced me to go watch the game with them tonight hence why I bought the jersey. What about you?"

"Kinda have to be considering I play for the team." He responds nonchalantly. His words leave me a little stunned and a lot confused.

"I can't tell if you're lying or not."

"I'm serious." He chuckles. "In fact, that's my last name and number you're wearing right now. Look me up if you don't believe me. Luke Hughes, number 43, of the New Jersey Devils. I won't be offended."

I do just that after picking up my phone from the table from where I had previously abandoned it after he made his appearance. Looking through the Google results, I realize that everything he just said is true.

"Okay, so you are telling the truth. But why would you just openly admit that to me? Aren't you worried that I might run off and tell everyone in the bar that I'm talking to The Luke Hughes? Or post it on the internet or something?"

"No." He shakes his head. "Call me naive, but I don't think that's the type of person you are."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Instinct or whatever you call it." He shrugs, a goofy grin on his face.

"What's it like, being on the ice? It seemed intense, and I was only watching it. I can't even begin to imagine what it must feel like to play."

"It is intense, but I love it." He replies honestly. "I always have."

We continue to talk back and forth for what seems like forever. Taking turns to ask each other questions and sharing random stories that have us laughing, almost to the point of tears. At one point during the conversation, he moves to sit on my side of the booth so he can show me a video of his brother falling off of a board while wake-surfing at their lake house in Michigan. He's in the middle of telling the story of the time he almost had to go streaking across his college campus when he's interrupted by a noticeably drunk man, a few others following behind him as he approaches the table.

"Lukey!" He exclaims loudly, making me laugh as he wraps an arm around the shoulders of a flustered Luke. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

"Who's your friend?" Another man questions as they file into the booth seat. The one embracing look shoves us over to sit on our side.

"I'm Y/n." I introduce myself.

"Nico." He greets me before pointing to the other men at the table. "That's Dawson, John, and-"

"And I'm Jack." The loud one from before interrupts. "I'm Lukey Pookies older brother." He lifts a hand and teasingly pinches Lukes cheek.

"My very drunk older brother." Luke huffs in annoyance and swats Jack's hand away.

"Nice to meet you." I giggle as the brothers begin to bicker.

As casual conversation begins amongst the group that has formed at the table, Luke scoots closer to where our shoulders and thighs lightly brush against each other with every slight movement and he leans in to whisper in my ear.

"Sorry about them." He smiles sheepishly when I turn towards him.

"Don't worry about it." I assure him. "They seem fun." He nods before turning to join the conversation.

It's nearing two in the morning when Nico, who seems to be the only sober one in the group aside from Luke, announces that it's time for them to head home. There are a few groans of disappointment, which Nico ignores as he begins to pull them from their seats. After they say their goodbyes and begin to walk away, Luke turns towards me.

"I know this is probably weird, and feel free to say no, but I was wondering if I could get your number." He questions, shyness washing over him. "This is the first time in what feels like a long time that I've been able to have a conversation with anyone, let alone a girl, whose intentions aren't to take advantage of my fame or status to influence their own. I would really like to get to know you more. As a friend, of course."

"Of course. I'm always down to make a new friend." I smile, a fluttering sensation forming in my chest as I take his phone and add my contact. A few seconds after handing it back, my own phone buzzes.

"I just texted you so now you have mine. I have to go but text me when you get home, so I know you made it safely."

He seems to hesitate for a few seconds, as if trying to make up his mind about something, before he leans in a brushes his lips softly against my cheek. When his face is visible again, he is sporting a bright red blush, mine surely looking the same if the warmth in my cheeks says anything. He says goodbye quickly before turning to run after his friends who are whooping and hollering, having seen the whole thing. I smile to myself as I gather mine and my friends, a giddy feeling running through every fiber of my being. I make it only a few feet from the table when I almost run into my friends, both standing in front of me, with shocked expressions on their faces.

"Tell us everything!" They exclaim as they each grab one of my arms and begin to pull me out of the bar.

#luke hughes #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #lh43 #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes fic #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction

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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months

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Injured

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: Mami gets hurt

When Mami hurts herself at camp, you aren't there.

She doesn't like you coming to camp with her. She says it's because it's much too big a place for a tiny little girl like you but you overheard Abuela telling Tia Alba it's really because Mami doesn't want you anywhere near the management staff.

Either way, you're not at camp. You don't even know what's going on when Abuela wakes you from your nap and brings you to the hospital.

Mami is there though, lying on a hospital bed with her leg in a brace as she stares up at the ceiling blankly.

You shift on your feet, gnawing at your bottom lip. "Mami," You say finally, voice small and weak," You hurted yourself?"

"Si," Mami replies softly," I hurt myself."

Boldly, you take a step forward and then another and then another until you're completely detached from Abuela and are standing at the side of Mami's bed.

"But...But you get better?"

"I'll get better," Mami promises but even she doesn't sound too sure.

"So you can play with the ball and win in England?"

Tears shine in Mami's eyes as she shakes her head. "Not in England, no. But later. I'll have to miss the Euros this year."

You frown for a moment, glancing at her knee. "But you'll be better?"

"I'll be better. We just have to wait a little bit longer."

Your brow wrinkles but you nod anyway and Mami turns to pick you up.

"Alexia," Abuela says in warning, stepping forward to take you.

"Leave her!" Mami snaps as she lifts you up and onto the bed," I'm not injured enough that I can't pick up my own daughter!"

You almost flinch at her tone. Mami doesn't yell like that often and it's a bit frightening but she's got you tucked firmly into her and it doesn't seem like she'll be letting you go anytime soon.

Her fingers card through your hair.

"Mami..."

"Si?"

"Are...Is...Erm...Is your knee hurted bad?"

"Mami needs to have surgery," Abuela says from the door," She's going to have it very soon. Why don't we head out to get some food while we wait?"

Mami glares at Abuela, tugging you ever closer. "She can stay here," She says firmly," Until I really have to go."

"Alexia," Abuela says," She'll aggravate your knee. Let me take her."

"I said no," Mami replies," She'll stay here with me. Why don't you step outside and call Olga?"

Abuela gives her a look but Mami holds firm in her decision.

"I'm sorry that you hurted your leg," You say after a long while of silence.

"It's okay," Mami says but her tone tells you that it's anything but," It just means that we have to take it easy for a bit, alright? It means that I get to spend a lot more time with you, huh? Won't that be nice?"

Your bottom lip wobbles. "Not if you're hurted. It's a big ouchy."

"It is a big ouchy but I'm going to have surgery, probably walk around on some crutches for a bit but it'll all be good again."

You hum in answer, still staring at her leg. "Why does Abuela need to call Miss Olga?"

"Well..." Mami moves you so you're lying on top of her, your head pillowed on her chest like when you were much littler. "Do you remember when Tia Jenni used to come around a lot? When you were a lot younger?"

You nod, careful to remain perfectly still so you don't hurt Mami's leg like Abuela said you would.

Tia Jenni used to come over a lot. She would always play with you and hang out with Mami and sometimes they would touch lips when they thought you weren't looking.

"And now Miss Olga comes round a lot instead?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, Mami and Miss Olga are seeing if we like each other like Mami and Tia Jenni used to like each other. So, I think that she should be told what's going on so she can work out if she wants to stay with me."

You frown. "Why wouldn't she want to stay with you? You're the best, Mami!"

Mami laughs slightly though it's tinged with bitterness. "I'm injured, bambi, and I won't be able to walk properly for a while. Miss Olga might decide that she can't cope with that."

"That's silly. You're the bestest even if you can't walk, Mami."

"Thank you, bambi. At least I know we're going to be good on our own."

"I'll help you!" You promise," Because you're the bestest on the pitch and you just need a little bit of rest before you can go back." You peer up at her, watching as her hand cups your chubby cheeks. "I'll walk Nala and-and I'll help you walk too...Er...And if you tell me what to do, I can make dinner!"

Mami laughs again, raining kisses on top of your head just as the doctors and Abuela - who's still on the phone - come in.

"Alright, y/n," She says softly, setting you back down on the floor," I have to go now. Maybe, while you wait, you can talk to Miss Olga on the phone? Would that be nice?"

You nod firmly. "I'll tell her how great you are!"

"You do that, bambi."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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dindjarindiaries · 6 months

Text

You Do It For Me

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: Staring at them and admiring them all day, hoping they won't notice (they definitely do)

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

"Hey." Din's voice is soft as he sets a hand on your shoulder. "Did you hear me?"

You blink a few times and force yourself to focus on his visor. Your mind is slow in processing his words. "Did I... oh, yeah, I'm sorry." You nod and tap the floating pod at your side. "We'll stay right here."

Din tilts his helmet. "Thank you." He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I won't be long."

You will your strength not to melt to the soil beneath you and offer a small smile instead. Din's visor lingers on you for only a moment before he turns and walks away, making his approach to the merchant he'd been in contact with before.

Your gaze remains on him, but not because you're worried. You haven't been able to let your eyes look upon anything else today except for him, and your mind's only encouraged it. The way he does anything, everything, threatens to make you forget how to stand on your own two feet.

Usually, you're better about hiding such admiration, but not every battle is easy to win—especially with a Mandalorian involved.

Right now, all he's doing is talking to the merchant, but even at this distance you can sense his business-like tone. His gloved hands are resting on his belt, his weight shifted onto one hip, taking a relaxed yet intimidating stance. His helmet tilts as he points at something the merchant has.

His hand then falls to his side and pulls into a tight fist. You're familiar with the strength of that grasp, having experienced it in ways that make your face flush in public.

It's simple, so simple, but the action is enough to send you into the most beautiful kind of spiral. It's a breathtaking cycle, and today, it's been endless. Everything he does sends your mind running in a podrace with no finish line.

You peel your gaze away only for a moment to check on Grogu. He's still asleep within the pod, making you smile as you close it once again. By the time you're looking back at Din, that quick moment of innocence is gone.

He's testing out a vibroblade, in need of something new after Moff Gideon's troopers took his on Mandalore. Din flips it over a few times in his gloved hand, nodding in satisfaction before he completes a few more skillful moves. You clasp your hands together behind your back and take a deep breath.

This man is going to be the end of you, but you couldn't ask for a sweeter demise.

Din closes out his deal and makes his way back towards you. His stride alone makes you shift your weight between your feet as you distract yourself by tending to Grogu once again. He's still asleep and as unbothered as ever.

"Thank you for your patience." Din's words are soft once again as his gloved hand finds your shoulder once again. He runs his thumb over it and nods. "Ready to go?"

You nod and bite your cheek. Din leads the way back to the ship, and you're more than happy to watch him do so. His beskar shines in the sunlight of this planet, making him stand out in the most perfect way. You curse to yourself under your breath and shake your head. You've been trying to be subtle, but he's making it difficult.

You're forced apart to follow him in your small ship back to Nevarro, and by the time you get there, it's already nightfall. Your trip for supplies had been enough to fill the day, and for you, it had certainly been eventful in its own way. You look forward to holding Din close and pretending your fond admiration hadn't happened as you seek your rest together.

But once Din puts Grogu to bed and joins you in the darkness of the bedroom, he foils your plans. "Did you see something you liked today?"

His question takes you aback. You stand up from where you'd been sitting on the edge of the bed, though it's nearly impossible to make out his figure in the dark haze of the room. "What do you mean? At the market? We got everything I wanted."

Din's gloved hands are gentle in finding your waist, as if he's giving you the chance to pull away. When you make no such move, he pulls you against him. "You know what I'm talking about."

You rest your hands upon his cuirass and shake your head in embarrassment. "Damn. I was really hoping you wouldn't notice."

Din chuckles and gives your waist a gentle squeeze before he lifts one hand to his helmet. "That's one thing I really enjoy about this helmet." Din's modulated voice is exchanged for his natural one as you hear the helmet hit the floor. "You had no idea I was doing the very same thing to you all day."

You raise your brow even as you smile at him. "And how am I supposed to believe you're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

Din brings himself close enough to you for his nose to brush against your own. "I'll give you proof." He keeps his own smirk hovering just above your own, giving you the invitation to make the final move.

You do so without hesitation, smiling even more against him as you begin to remember exactly why you've been stuck in such a sweet cycle of admiration.

#this is definitely a relatable one HAHAHAHA #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #prompts #dindjarindiaries

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hatchetno1 · 4 months

Note

hello hi wifi bet you won't do a scenerio where you're baking together with the pastas ‼️ I want messy ass kitchen shenanigans ‼️ who'd make a mess yet have delicious food? super clean but disgusting food?

if you don't wanna do this it's ok 🐧

hey penpen!! dw about it, since this scenario is a wholesome one i’ll try to write the wholesome fanon version of them so here goes

cw: wholesome. if you're looking for dark content, I'M SORRY word count: 482

toby would MESS THE FUCK UP like no joke the counter is full of flour there are chocolate chips everywhere. toby goes “CHOCOLATE CHIPS CHOCOLATE CHIPS—WOO!” it’s to the point you can’t tell if the whooping is real or if it’s a vocal tic.

the food you made comes out…decent. because all he did was just dump a full bag of chips into the cookie dough. no way in hell are you letting him touch the food. oh, but cleanup is going to be a pain.

ben can’t bake so he just watches you.

actually you don’t know if he can’t touch the stuff because he’s an apparition or if it’s because he just…doesn’t want to.

baking with ben is miserable. you cannot convince me otherwise. but he eats the food like a little bitch anyway.

bonus: he calls the whole mansion over to eat the cookies while you’re asleep so you have none left for breakfast/snacks tomorrow.

jeff… uh. i can see him absolutely torching the place. baking with him is barely baking, it’s more of trying to get him not to blowtorch the dough to bake it.

“y/n what if i blowtorch the whole thing” no. no, jeff. that’s not how it works.

but if you’re dating jeff, chances are you’re the type to let your intrusive thoughts win anyway.

there is no food when you’re done.

ej is actually decent!! he’s calm and collected and he knows what he’s doing. it’s more likely that you don’t know what you’re doing and he guides you.

oh, he stands behind you and gently holds your hands and guides you in kneading the dough, and you feel his breath on your neck and he says “yes, that’s it, darling. you’re doing so well.”

you’re too busy blushing by the end of it to actually savor the cookies. and all you can think of when eating the leftovers the next day is how he held you…

you’re saving baking with ej for a special occasion. your heart can’t handle this.

not sure if you want slenderman but i really cannot imagine him baking as the operator. but i did say it’ll be wholesome so here goes

slender’s tentacles basically do everything for you. “don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll do all the work. sit back and relax, my dear.” he reassures you that it’s not a burden and insists, but when you whine that it’s not fun when you don’t do it together, he lets up.

he still doesn’t let you do a lot of work though. but occasionally he’ll scoop up a bit of dough from the bowl and feed you, so you can’t complain.

if you decide to cheekily suck on his finger, he’ll chuckle.

“my dear, we can save that for later. it is unsanitary.” you pout as he washes his hands again.

the cookies come out delicious though. you can’t complain.

and he feeds you by hand. and you get to suck on his fingers playfully. you can’t complain.

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hwaslayer · 2 months

Text

project: make you love me (jyh) | sixteen.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 3.6k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, seonghwa, physical fighting, mingi calling his friend out on his stupidity, crying, sorry if i missed anything.. quickly edited this lol, yunho is just mad and overwhelmed with his feelings rn 😭

yunho: baby

yunho: wait at the science building later, please? i'll come get you so we can walk to my car together

you: okee ☺️

yunho: ☺️ see you later? enjoy the rest of your classes

you: you too, my bighead!

Yunho smiles at his phone before tucking it away, slowly following Yeosang to their group study session.

"Should I even ask why you're smiling like that?" Yunho looks up at Yeosang and chuckles.

"Just Y/N."

"Of course. Is she in class?"

"Yup. She's in the back row being all distracted."

"Perfect way to pass time in my honest opinion." Yeo clears his throat. "I've been meaning to ask you out of curiosity."

"What's up?"

"Have you guys told each other 'I love you' and everything?"

"Mm, no. Not yet at least."

"Not yet?" Yeosang smiles. "You feel that way for her, don't you?"

"I do. I just.. I don't know? I don't know if it's too soon. What if I scare her off?"

"Nah, doubt that. You can't put a timer on these things."

"True. Plus, it sounds cliché and like it's out of a movie, but I truly wanna wait 'till it feels right to say it to her."

"That makes sense."

"Trust me, I really do feel that way for her." He lets out a breath as they look towards the library building, the sun from behind slightly blinding them as they approach the doors. "She has literally become my bestfriend. It's crazy how life works."

"I know. I remember when you first told me you were helping her out for literature." Yeosang chuckles. "Or when you'd save her in the back lot."

"Still can't believe that was even real." Yunho does a tiny head tilt. "He's really something."

"What was up with Y/N's birthday thing? How did he even know?"

"I don't know. Word gets around fast. Why wouldn't Seonghwa know? Especially since it has to do with Y/N."

"Can't wait till the day he leaves you two alone. Must be fucking annoying to deal with."

"I try not to mind it. Though, I think he's been getting bolder lately and I can't put my finger on it."

"Has Y/N said anything?" He shakes his head.

"No. Maybe I'm just overthinking. She just seemed a little weird about him at her birthday party."

"Well, yeah. It's Seonghwa." Yeosang waves at their study group sitting at the far end of the library in the loud section.

"Yeah, but, I don't know. It was different. She seemed bothered about something but she hasn't told me anything. I assume it's not a big deal."

"Hm. Well, I'm sure it's not either. Just Seonghwa being himself, maybe."

"Mm, whatever though." Yunho greets the study group as they approach the table. "She's my girlfriend now, and that won't change." Yeosang gives him a small smile before they settle with the group and begin their long study session together.

"Remember, we have a test next class. Make sure you study everything I included in the study guide. Don't skip on anything just because you think it's a minor detail! Nothing is minor!" Your professor says before dismissing the class. You let out a sigh, already stressing over the next test. You didn't do bad on the first test, but you also didn't do the greatest. Thankfully, you're still at a good point in the semester, which gives you enough time to pull your grade up.

Once the initial rush of people leaving the classroom dies down, you pack up your things and head out the door. You hurry out of the classroom and down the steps, excited to see your boyfriend after yet another long day. For a split second, the building is crowded with other students leaving their classes and heading to their next destination— whether it be the next class, the library or to their cars. It's a sudden swarm of people that you don't even realize Seonghwa had stepped out of his own class, following you down the corridor.

"Y/N." You hear Seonghwa's voice behind you. You try to mind your own business, subtly rolling your eyes as you walk out of the science building to reunite with Yunho.

Except, he isn't exactly there yet and Seonghwa grabs you by the wrist.

"Y/N." He repeats, turning you to face him.

"What are you doing?" You question him.

"Just a second." You let out a loud, heavy sigh. "Why are you being like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like you ignoring me. You haven't answered any of my texts or calls—"

"Why do I need to?" You raise a brow. "You're not actually serious, right? I have no reason to respond to you, Seonghwa. Don't you have places to be, people to see?" You pause. "Don't you realize you're a little too late? This was something I needed from you way before. I don't need it from you now."

"I know it's late, but I don't wanna give up on this."

"This? This has been done for a long time, you and I both know that. You're only worried about losing the only safety blanket you've ever had. Why can't you just move on and let me be happy?"

"Happy?" Seonghwa almost scoffs. "With him? Okay, baby." He shakes his head. "Listen. Enough of this for real. Can you please just hear me out, I'll explain and apologize properly—"

"Seonghwa, stop calling me that. What don't you understand about no?" You say almost at a whine, his hand still having a grip on the edge of your wrist. You truly don't want to entertain this, but Seonghwa almost gives you no way out, no way around his bullshit, and unfortunately, that'll be the root of everything that unfolds tonight. Yunho is happily [and eagerly] making his way down to you after the long, heavy study group session, while Yeosang decides he's gonna stay behind in order to hit the gym and get his workout in. Yunho is a few minutes late, but he knows you'll still flash him that beautiful, million-watt smile he adores so much before wrapping your arms around him.

He can't wait.

But, Yunho slows in his steps just as he's close to the front doors; familiar voices filling the surprisingly empty, quiet space. It's you, and he already feels himself boiling with anger when he hears who else is occupying your time right now.

"Why haven't you even said anything about the flowers and the card I gave you? Did you even get them?" Yunho overhears Seonghwa ask you, and he furrows his brows. What flowers and card? You don't answer right away, and Seonghwa is quick to follow up. Yunho doesn't even get to hear your response about it and the most upsetting part of all this— is that this is how he finds out about everything.

Not from you, but from Seonghwa.

"You couldn't even send me a text? I was worried you didn't get it. I wanted to talk to you afterwards."

"What is there to talk about?"

"Yeah, what is there to talk about?" You and Seonghwa turn towards Yunho, who stands there with his hands dug deep into his pockets. His jaw is slightly clenched, head titled to the side while he waits for a response. Seonghwa lets out a pathetic chuckle, hand slipping down your wrist as he fully faces him.

"Loverboy sounds upset over a little talk."

"A little talk? Is that an add-on for the flowers and card you sent her?" Yunho sounds more stern, more angry. You can't even blame him, but at the same time, it's unusual for you to hear him this way. You're not sure what could come out of this and you don't necessarily want to find out.

"I'm sorry, should I have sent you some, too?" Seonghwa steps closer to him and the panic starts to settle in for you. You wish someone, anyone, was around to help. Because although you don't think Yunho will let this blow out of proportion, you aren't 100% about your answer. You're not sure how Yunho manages his anger in these situations and you're not sure what triggers him; what tips him over the edge and is the 'cherry on top.' Seonghwa has always rubbed him the wrong way and you don't think this could end remotely pretty. "I'll take note of that for next time so you don't have to sit there and stare at Y/N's."

How you wish Seonghwa had just gotten the point. Why couldn't he just let you be? Why was he out to ruin your happiness so badly?

"Seonghwa. This is done. Let it go." You warn him, but it doesn't clear anything. You aren't getting through to any of them.

"Back up. I'm not asking." Yunho clenches his jaw as he comes face to face with Seonghwa, making him give off a small scoff.

"Aw. Loverboy's mad—" And that's exactly the tipping point for Yunho. He's not sure why, he usually has a lot of patience. He usually brushes things off easily, doesn't hold a grudge or stay angry for long. But, Seonghwa? He was a different story, especially because of the history you have with him. Every little thing about Seonghwa pisses him off— down to the way he moves, breathes, acts like he can always get his way so easily, so quickly. Before he can even think about the consequences, or how you'd feel, Yunho swings at him, making Seonghwa stumble backwards.

"Yunho!—" You gasp, Yunho's initial punch is pretty rough that it had Seonghwa in shock before being able to register what just happened.

"Fuck you—" Is all Seonghwa spits out before going at Yunho. The two continue to go at it, pushing and gripping at each other's shirts, rough attempts at landing punches;

They're almost successful with tearing each other's heads off until you step in between and get involved.

"Stop!" You step in between to try and prevent the fight from escalating even more. "Stop it!" You push Seonghwa back when he tries coming for Yunho, a campus security guard dashing towards all of you to completely break up the scuffle.

"Knock it off! The hell are you two doing acting like this on campus? I suggest you two part ways now before we call the cops over!"

"Yo, what the fuck?!" Mingi comes from around the corner, grabbing at Seonghwa's arm to pull him back. "The fuck are you doing, dude?" He looks at his bestfriend in disbelief.

"Why don't you ask your friend who fucking started it—"

"Me?" Yunho spits, while Seonghwa wipes the blood at the corner of his lip. "I wouldn't have had to if you just knew how to back the fuck off!" Yunho is angry, continuing to raise his voice. "Let me catch you sending shit to my girlfriend one more time and see what the fuck I'll do—"

"Yunho." You say softly, tugging back at his arm.

"Are you serious?" Mingi looks at Seonghwa. "You don't go messing around with people's relationships, Hwa. You need to let this go, you look crazy!"

"Oh, so all of a sudden you're sticking up for your friend?"

"Yeah, because he is my friend and it's just shit you don't do! What the fuck don't you understand about that?! You fucking deserved that shit!" Mingi shakes his head before pushing Hwa forward, pulling him off to the side to continue talking to him.

"Babe." You turn to Yunho after Mingi and Seonghwa create good distance, hand coming up to cup Yunho's cheek. But, he turns, slightly shaking his head at you. You pull your hand back and feel your heart drop, the look in Yunho's eyes being one that you've never experienced before.

Sadness, hurt, anger.

Mostly sadness, hurt.

"What flowers was he talking about, Y/N?" His chest is still rising at a somewhat uneven pace, doing his best to calm down after the adrenaline rush.

"H-he left them at my doorstep after we came back from the snow. I'm really sorry, Yunho, I didn't tell you because I tossed it out and—"

"But still, it's the fact that you didn't tell me after all this time." Yunho's brows are tightly knitted together, and the look causes your heart to sink even deeper. "Why did you have to let me find out this way? Were you going to tell me about this too if I hadn't come right away?"

"I just didn't get around to telling you because I didn't think it would matter— Seonghwa doesn't matter."

"If he didn't, then wouldn't you be able to tell me without questioning it so much?"

"Yunho, no. I'm sorry, no." You repeat, tears pricking your eye lids. "I didn't mean for it to seem like that. I really didn't mean to hide this from you."

"Did you think about keeping them?"

"I—I, no. I thought—" Yunho hears you stuttering and his throat suddenly feels dry. Why can't you just tell him? Even if Seonghwa didn't matter to you, why couldn't you trust him enough to tell him?

Why couldn't you feel comfortable enough to tell him?

"Be honest with me, Y/N. That's all I've ever asked. Did you or did you not think about it keeping it?" Silence. And god, it is the most gut-wrenching silence Yunho has ever endured.

Yup. Got it.

The answer is clear.

You did think about Seonghwa. You thought about accepting the flowers as his apology, you thought about the possibility— even if it was for a brief, splitting second. Seonghwa did matter for one fucking second, and that's what bothers him.

"Yunho, please. I just thought—" You can barely get through your sentences.

"Did you, or did you not?"

"I thought about keeping it, but it was so stupid. I was just blinded for a second, and I realized it didn't matter to me. He doesn't matter to me. At all. I promise. Everything just caught me off guard." You try to grab for his hand but he steps back. "Yunho, it was all stupid. I tossed it out so quickly. I wasn't going to do anything, I wasn't going to text, nothing."

"But, why does it feel like after everything he's put you through, you still believe he'd genuinely change? Why does it feel like a part of you is still actually holding onto that?" Well, when Yunho says it to your face like that, you feel dumb. Not once did you ever think about running back to Seonghwa and leaving this behind. But, you were blinded in that quick second from your history with Hwa, being close and sharing moments for months. Asking Seonghwa for little gestures like this, for more attention; even though it was a ride, you still had history.

And yes, maybe at one point you wanted to be the girl that changed him.

But today, you can't even imagine going back to that point. Not after being with Yunho, not after the happiness he's brought you.

Not after you realize how much you genuinely and truly love Yunho.

You don't wanna lose him.

This is all so stupid, and a huge misunderstanding. But, you're the only person to blame here— if you hadn't given Seonghwa the time of day, if you had just told Yunho right away without second-guessing it, if you hadn't hesitated; you wouldn't be here right now.

"I'm not!" Your tone raises and it sounds like a whine at this point. "I'm not, Yunho. Please."

"Look, tonight was a lot." He sighs, running his hand through his hair before wincing and looking down at his knuckles. "I was excited to see you after a long day, Y/N. I was really looking forward to being with you. I wasn't expecting all of this and honestly, I don't know what's worse? Stumbling upon all of this the way I did, or not knowing at all."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was stupid and fucked up of me, and I'm sorry." You repeat, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Maybe you just need to think about what you really want." Yunho shrugs. "I thought you were over the whole thing with Seonghwa, but clearly not if you're still considering on giving him the time of day."

"No, no, Yunho. Please don't. It's not that." You try to lace your hand with his, but he gently brushes it off with a shaky sigh. He doesn't wanna leave you. He never wants to be without you. But, tonight was a lot for him to handle, and it is overwhelming. He hasn't really felt this protective over someone. Of course, it's only natural since you're his girlfriend. He'll always protect you. It's just that Seonghwa brings something out of him that he doesn't necessarily like, and he wants it to be gone for good. It feels unhealthy and icky;

The anger, the frustration, the anxiety.

He hates it. And he doesn't want this to be a thing in your relationship. Plus, he still feels himself fuming with anger and he just can't possibly talk to you while he feels that way.

So yes, he's overwhelmed and he needs to get over this.

"No, seriously. You really should think about it. I know where I stand but I'm not so sure you do." He lets out another disappointed sigh. "I'll take you home, but we should probably just be in our own places tonight."

"Okay." You say close to a whisper, sniffling as you wipe away at your face. You don't even try to fight it anymore simply because you know Yunho needs his space right now. He begins to walk off with you slowly trailing behind, head hung low after everything that happened tonight. Everything happened so fast you're also having to process it all on this walk over to the lot. Suddenly, you're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear footsteps picking up behind you, followed by a familiar, deep voice.

"Yo, wait up!" Mingi says. "You good? I'm sorry about him, he's actually losing it."

"You're sorry? Mingi, when the fuck is your friend gonna grow up so that you're not apologizing on his behalf?" Mingi lets out a breath as his eyes dart from you, back to Yunho's. "Seriously. I don't mean to throw that your way, but it's not even just about tonight. Your friend knows no boundaries and that's crazy to me."

"I know, he's got things to sort through but that's his own problem now. I already told him multiple times. Me and San did." Mingi shakes his head.

"Doesn't take much to grow the fuck up and take ownership of your own fuck-ups once in awhile."

"Let him keep learning the hard way. He will, eventually. He deserved that tonight."

"He can try all he wants, nothing's gonna change between me and her. Hope he understands I'm not going anywhere after tonight."

"Of course." Is all Mingi could respond with because of course Yunho wouldn't go anywhere— why the fuck would he let Seonghwa get in the way? He shouldn't. And Seonghwa needs to know that. "Anyway, just wanted to see if you two were okay. For real." Yunho sighs.

"Mmyeah. Thanks." He responds as Mingi daps it up. "We're just gonna head home."

"Drive safely. Text me if you need me." Mingi gives you a small smile before running off to tend to his friends, San now also getting dragged into all his mess.

The walk over is quiet, but Yunho still opens the passenger door for you when you finally get to his car. You hate the silence that falls between you two, but you understand Yunho is upset and needs his own time away from everything, from you, even. You can't help but cry even more into your hands when he pulls into the apartment lot, Yunho letting out a breath as he puts the car in park. He looks over at you and his heart breaks because he truly hates to see you cry, and he never wants to be the reason behind you being sad or hurt.

"Hey. Don't." He says softly, hands coming up to pry your own hands away from your face. He gently wipes the tears away, making sure no drop is missed.

"I'm sorry, Yuyu." You repeat.

"I know, it's okay." He says, even though right now, it's not.

"Is it?"

"Let's get you home, okay?" He just looks at you with a soft expression before unbuckling his seatbelt. He comes over to open your door, locking his car when you step out and slowly make your way to your apartment. When you get to the steps, you turn towards him with a small pout. Yunho pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, wiping any remaining stragglers from staining your cheeks. He's not happy, but he's trying to send you off on a calm note— hoping this could at least ease you for the night. "Get some rest."

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" He doesn't say anything before he pulls away and takes a few steps backwards. "Yunho." You call for him in that tone of yours that always makes him so weak.

"Y/N, please. I just need to shake this off. That's all. Goodnight." All you can do is simply walk away before running up the steps and into your apartment. Chaery is the only one home, cleaning her dishes after cooking a good meal for all of you to share.

"My love is home! I cooked!" She says happily, but her smile dies when she sees you set your bags down and cry into your hands. She drops everything and rushes over, throwing her arms around you while guiding you to the couch. "Hey, what's wrong? What happened?" She brushes the hair away from your face while you continue to cry. You don't respond for a bit, signaling for Chaery to just hold you and let you be.

You cry, and you cry.

Because you already miss Yunho, and you feel so dumb for overthinking the entire thing, for not being honest with him. It was a stupid mistake, but you hope Yunho knows you truly weren't out to hurt him.

You hope he can forgive you and move past this— with you, together.

Because today and so on, he's all you want. You love Yunho, and there's no one else that completes you the way that he does.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunhotteokkk @yungigiggles @jaerisdiction @ignoretheskies @luminouskalopsia @naeviscall @vixensss @choisansplushie @arya9111 @my-lightspirit @dazednconfusion @astro-doll-the-star @faesmingi @idfkeddieishot @startinystay @emily505 @mgdixon @mcsalterego @cheynalexilaiho @svintsandghosts @mismatchfluffysocks

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navybrat817 · 8 months

Note

Aggressively texting Bucky: "How dare you be this fucking cute?!"

Seriously! How is he so cute?!

A Couple of Cuties

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky's cute. He knows it. You know it. You just need to admit it. Word Count: 1.2k Warnings: Flirting, tension, banter, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Happy Sinday! Set in the same universe as The Rejects. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't sure how game nights became your thing with Bucky. Maybe it was because it was how the two of you got together. You looked forward to them, especially since they had a tendency to end the same way: The "loser" of a chosen game stripping and the "winner" eventually losing their clothes, too. Both of you were winners by the time you got to bed or the nearest surface he felt like taking you on. Tonight would be no exception.

If you didn't smack him first.

"It's cute that you think I'm cute. Nothing wrong with that."

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at Bucky. He had his signature panty-dropping smirk on his face as he stared back at you from across the table. It was a battle of wills and you were determined not to blink. You refused to let him win. And you refused to acknowledge his cuteness.

I won't think about his adorable smile or his sweet laugh when I crack a joke or the way his eyes go soft when I catch him staring.

"When did I say you're cute?" You asked, finally blinking when you had to. He still hadn't, his deep blue eyes laser focused as he stared.

Of course, he beat me. Damn super soldier and his skills. How the hell can anyone go that long without blinking?

"You say it with your eyes and your smile, just like I say it to you," he replied, holding his phone up as you raised your chin defiantly. Even though his words made your heart swell, you didn’t let it show out of sheer stubbornness. "You also sent me a text. Would you like me to read it to you?"

"I don't need you to-"

"How dare you be this fucking cute?!" he read, trying and failing to imitate your voice.

I sound nothing like that. And I regret hitting "send" on that text message.

"You think because the text came from my phone that I sent it? How do you know Nat or someone didn't take my phone? I mean, face it, you have no proof that I'm the one who sent that message," you said, checking your nails to avoid his gaze. "Maybe someone wanted to give you an ego boost. Not like you need one, but good for them for the effort."

The adorable nose scrunch was out in full force as he laughed and you no doubt had hearts in your eyes as the sound bounced off the walls. The fact that he could relax around you after he faced so many horrors was a wonderful feeling. "Nat has never called me cute and I'm pretty sure she was with Steve when I got this message," he pointed out as he leaned across the table and booped you on the nose with a vibranium finger when you lifted your gaze. "But you think I'm cute and I think that's adorable."

"I'm sorry, but did Sergeant Barnes just boop my nose? You actually booped my nose. We may have to take your badass card away and replace it with a ‘boop boop’."

"No deflecting and badasses can still give and receive boops," he said as he settled back in his chair. "You sent the message. We both know it."

"I did not," you stated.

Bucky licked his lips, drawing your attention to them. You wanted to feel them against yours. You needed them on your skin and between your legs. "You did."

"I did not," you repeated, your voice steady as his gaze moved down to your chest. Can a man actually touch you with his eyes? Logic told you it was physically impossible, but it didn’t stop your body from imagining that he could do so.

"You did, but do you know what's cuter?” He asked, leaning back as he grasped the bottom of his blue Henley and pulled it over his head. “You in my clothes.”

“It’s cute when I’m wearing your clothes?” You questioned, catching the garment as he tossed it your way. The whiff of his cologne made you shiver, along with something that had to come from the serum. You noticed that Steve had a hint of a similar scent to Bucky, but the Captain’s didn’t make your heart race the way the former Winter Soldier’s did. “I was going for sexy.”

“It’s very sexy,” he promised, the praise heating up your skin before he gestured to himself. “But if you don’t admit that I’m cute, you won’t get any of this tonight.”

It was your turn to laugh as you swapped out your top for Bucky’s, watching his eyes darken as you slipped it on. You did look good in his clothes. “You’re going to withhold sex from me? Please. I have a toy with your name on it that’ll do the job just fine.”

Your boyfriend smiled at your words. “Aww. You named a toy after me? That’s flattering. Do you call him Bucky? James? Sergeant? Don’t hold back on me, doll. I wanna know the details.”

“You know, the text was your fault since you decided to send me a selfie,” you defended yourself, changing the subject. It was a cute photo of him. One of many. Of course, you had to say something.

“Maybe I can fuck you with the toy first,” he suggested, your inhale sharp and quick as his voice dropped. It didn’t take long for you to feel his hand on your knee, moving dangerously slow up your leg. “Because you look so cute right before you let go. Your mouth falls open slightly and the sweetest little whine slips out. And almost a look of surprise when you gush around me, like no one else has ever made you come so hard.”

No one else ever has.

“I take it back. You’re not cute. You’re the devil,” you argued breathlessly as your legs parted, allowing his hand to glide up more.

“If I’m the devil, come and sin with me,” he smirked, his hand stopping just before it reached the middle of your thighs. “And for you to take it back is an admission that you do think I’m cute. But if you won't say it...”

“Fine, you smug bastard! I admit it. I sent it because you’re cute. You’re fucking adorable. Living proof that you can be a beast and a sweetheart,” you said as he grinned, grasping his wrist and bringing his hand to your clothed core, the fabric soaked thanks to him. “And thanks to you, I’m all wet. So either do something about it or no game nights for a month.”

His nostrils flared, knowing it wasn’t just a threat. You also knew there was no way in hell he could last that long without your game nights. He cherished them just as much as you did. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. I can play with my toy in the meantime if you’re not up for the job,” you smirked, grinding slowly against his hand. “Cutie.”

You would tell Bucky later just how cute he looked when he knocked the table out of the way to get to you. He would make sure you weren’t sore since he fucked you on the floor. It was endearing how much he cared for your well-being.

You expected nothing less from a cutie like Bucky Barnes.

These two. 😂 I hope you lovelies liked it! Love and thanks for reading. 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky banres fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x female!reader #biteofcherry

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 7 days

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The Way Things Go (Betrayal series) - F1 Grid

MV1 focused - side reader x Lando (relationship)

Summary: Max grew up karting her and while it took her longer to find her way into F1. Now she's here and they're side by side. But who'd have thought y/n would be the one to bring it to him. And who'd have predicted the damage it would cause?

Y/n laughs as Max manages to pick her up and swing her upside around, a challenge set by her that there was no way he could pick her up like a doll when they argued over who had better strength. He made it too easy.

"Put me down, you heathen." Y/n laughs while he grins.

The two had been feeling a bit of tension but somehow it's all over after China saw y/n P2 and Max P3. Yes he's still behind but her not winning and him not taking the win seemed to bring some sort of peace.

Being in Miami they were a little hotter and the sun seemed to bring out a very good mood within the paddock. Especially in y/n and Max.

"Max, put her down before you drop her." Rupert chuckles as Max slowly places y/n down on the ground before moving to give her a hand back up to her feet. "I didn't realise the sun in Miami would put the two of you in such a good mood."

Y/n smiles a little before her own trainer calls for her.

"Doping test, come on little runt." Andy shouts making her shift her jaw.

To say Andy has no sense of workplace persona would be an understatement. On more than one occasion y/n has tried to remind him that some people don't approve of him calling her a runt. But he's only argued it's because when he started training her she was like the smallest of the pack.

"See you later." Y/n smiles giving Max a quick hug.

It turns out that if Max was under the impression he would continue to dominant his 100% win record for Miami then he was mistaken. He also wasn't happy about it either.

"Y/n has led every free practice and she seems to just glide on this track. I've never seen someone continuously do clean lap after clean lap. Even Max has been touching the walls or cutting the tracks." Martin states seemingly in awe of the young woman's abilities. "She seems to just be a natural on this track which is incredible to watch."

"Now we get to see if she can replicate those laps for qualifying." Crofty hums not speaking so loudly but he's really rooting for her like many are. "She's still leading the standings and she's not had any loss in confidence despite not having a win for 3 races down."

"Well no win in the 3 races but best of the rest and still beating Max in the standings. I think there's also a good chance she's going to change that no win streak."

As she had in the practices, she gets through qualifying in each session at the top of the time sheets. They'd also heard blips of radio from Max who was certainly not impressed that's teammate keeps beating him each round by nearly half a second.

Sitting down in the debrief, Max only greets her with a mumble of a greeting and no eye contact, giving away the mood which contrasts her own significantly.

He got P3 after Charles pulled out some monster of a qualifying lap that was actually only 0.008 sec behind her.

Y/n decides to just focus on herself for the rest of the day though she does end up being caught by Lando and Carlos on her way out, long after Max had stomped his way through the paddock.

"Max did not look happy. You are clearly going to ruin his 100% winning record here." Carlos jokes earning a small smile and shrug. "That's good, don't be sorry. Champions are never sorry."

"I'm not sorry...who is going to apologise for winning. Max doesn't...and I won't." Y/n smirks making the two men look at each other for a moment.

"Is it too late in our friendship for me to say that's kind of hot?" Lando questions quickly being scolded and pushed away by Carlos while y/n laughs a little.

"Flattery gets you a lot of places Lando, but it'll never get you a race win while she is setting out to beat Max." Carlos states earning a smirk and a shrug.

"Maybe I'll settle for one of the other places it'll get me." Lando grins to y/n while she rolls her eyes shaking her head.

"I do not want to be a part of whatever this is." Carlos grimaces making y/n laugh and link arms with him. "How is Max? I remember being his teammate."

"Must you make it sound like such a bad thing?" Y/n asks as they walk to their cars.

"The way he goes on sometimes, it's not much of a good thing." Carlos hums before kissing her cheek. "Good luck tomorrow."

"Thank you, Carlos." Y/n smiles and as he walks off she notices Lando is very much still there. "Something you needed?"

"Want...might be a better choice of words." Lando smirks making her hum. "You're in the Hilton right?"

"Yes. Stalk much?"

"Research...Anyway, I think I should be allowed to give you a ride back. A congratulations for a pole position."

Y/n laughs and moves to the McLaren driver clearing her throat as she seems to smooth over his jacket.

"If I win tomorrow, then maybe we can celebrate." Y/n smiles then clearing her throat. "Especially if you get yourself on the podium too."

"Is that a challenge?"

"It's a goal to aim for. I'd never ask for you to aim to beat me...I'm too good for that. It would be unfair to expect the impossible." Y/n teases then patting his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Lando. Good luck."

Y/n puffs out as she gets into the car. She'd hardly seen Max ahead of the race, never mind spoken to him. He seems to be doing a very good job at actively avoiding her and while she'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt. She's got no plans of that knocking her focus.

She's here to win.

"Radio check." Ronnie speaks into her ear.

"Radio check, Ron Ron." Y/n grins then sighing.

He lists off tyre choices for other drivers before they take off on the formation lap and when she lines up again Ronnie's voice speaks into her ear once more.

"Keep it clean, y/n."

"Is there someone who won't be keeping it clean?" Y/n jokes but the lack of reply is chilling.

She gives herself a shake to knock off the idea of Charles potentially plotting something that was out fairly out of character. And she wouldn't allow the thought of Max deciding to risk a result for the team, he's not like that. The team comes first, the drivers self come second.

Engines rev as the red lights glow, one by one until a beat and suddenly they're out and the cars are zooming towards the first corner.

And while y/n was told to keep it clean. Her worst nightmare happens.

Max tags her and they both spin.

For a split second she's sure she's out, but keeping the engine going, she's only got a puncture. Though getting back onto the track, she's at the back of the field.

"He hit me! Max just fucking tagged me. What the hell was that?" She exclaims into the radio. "Fucking asshole."

"Can you bring it back?"

"Y-Yes. I can bring it back."

"Ok red flag. It's red flagged. Max took a big shunt into the barrier after hitting you. Damage to barriers, a lot of debris from both cars. There was also a bit of a domino effect because of your accident."

It takes all self-restraint to not say good. Instead her compassion takes the reign.

"Is he ok?"

"Yeah, he's getting out the car."

"Keep him away from me if he gets back to the pits while I'm there, Ronnie."

"Don't worry." Ronnie states while looking at the rest of the pit wall who very much heard the threatening undertone of her voice. "Just get yourself to the pit. It looks like you just got a puncture, the floor looks fine."

"Amazing." Y/n mumbles still ready to punch her teammate.

When she pulls into the pit lane at the back of the field, she practically jumps out the car and marches all the way up to the front of the pit lane. Anger seething in her.

"Well we heard the radio, and now we can see exactly how upset she is." Crofty states while Martin hums.

"I do think it will go down as a racing incident, but something tells me that y/n has good reason to be upset with Max. It was quite a rookie move and I'm sorry, but Max will have to take the blame for that one."

"There wasn't any pay off really. He's out the race and out the points and now y/n is going to have to fight to the front."

"I'm sure they'll get over it, teammates come together. It happens but it's not great for team morale or for inter-team dynamics. But they seemed happy enough with each other just the other day so I think we'll see them come back."

Everyone gives y/n a path to begin almost yelling at the Ronnie along with several others.

"Ok, ok. Calm down. Being angry can't undo it, but you have a race to focus on. Luckily it was first lap so you have plenty of time to refocus and just make sure you get back through the field. This is your track, do not let it get in your head." Ronnie states making her glare at him. "Go take a comfort break and just calm down, then get back in the car and be ready to race."

Y/n managed P2. Behind Lando of all people. Oh the irony of her cockiness is painful.

But given her race start she is grateful to have go on the podium at all.

Max had left the paddock by the time she debriefs and given her sour mood she wasn't exactly upset over his absence. Though the team had made several attempts to lighten her mood nothing was lifting it.

Although when she walks out after team pictures and such, she finds none other than a certain driver waiting for her, leaning against her car.

"Are you really leaning on my car? I'm currently in the mood to use anyone and everyone as target practice to run over." Y/n grumbles still sizzling with a rage but even her anger can't stop her from at least being half decent. "Congratulations on your win by the way."

"Thanks, I've already thanked Max for it. But I thought maybe you'd let me give you a shoulder to cry on."

"I'd rather have a shoulder to punch and break." Y/n smiles sarcastically while throwing her bag into her boot. "Now if you'll get out my way?"

"Y/n..." Lando states talking more softly and she sighs.

"This was my weekend and he robbed me of it." Y/n states with a frown then shaking her head. "Why is he doing this?"

Lando doesn't have anymore of an answer than anyone else does. Or at least not an answer that anyone can enjoy.

"If I can't be a shoulder...how about a method of relieving some pent up frustration?" Lando offers redirecting the subject back to his initial reason for being there in the first place. "Anyway, I think I earned a celebration for my win."

Y/n has to somewhat smile at that, only because of the man's pure audacity to push her problems to the side.

"You have some gall."

"That's not much of an answer." Lando smirks managing to pull her towards her, their faces suddenly dangerously close. "I'm going to have to start learning to read your mind."

"Good luck with that."

"Last time you wished me good luck, it came with a very big pay off for me."

"And a very big cost for me."

"I think this time you'll be repaid for that cost."

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hyukassubi · 8 months

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Txt when their s/o has chubby cheeks!!

A/n: AAA as a person with very cute chubby cheeks I just had this thought, so I had to write it down lol. Also this isn't proofread 🏃‍♀️💨

Genre: fluff<3

Warnings: none. (Tell me if there is any tho!!)

Summary: you got big ol' squishy chubby cheeks and the boys LOVE it 🥰✨

Yeonjun

Everytime you both do your facials, yeonjun would go behind you and wash your face for you, squishing your cheeks in every way possible infront of the bathroom mirror.

"Junnie, stop, I look like a dumpling!"

He doesn't stop. "My cute little dumpling." <33 He squeezes your face more.

He likes that name so much he calls you that pretty much everyday now

"Sleep well, dumpling."

You secretly find it cute but never tell him.

And do expect big fat kisses from him.

Especially after a big win, when Yeonjun's very proud of you or himself he just goes on over to you and places the fattest smooch on both your cheeks. (Yassss, we stan equality‼️🙌🙌)

Soobin

Soobin noticed how cute and puffy your cheeks looked, sorta like a rabbit.

And when the both of you started dating and he tried kissing you on the cheek, his world came to life.

Legit sparkles and rainbows in his eyes while he's trying so hard to keep a straight face.

From then on, he kept kissing your cheek. There was never a day he didn't kiss you on the cheek.

Not when he greets you with a kiss.

You'd be making breakfast and he greets you with a kiss. You'd come home from work and he walks up to you and kisses you.

It's second-hand nature at this point.

Sometimes he forgets whether or not he's kissed you yet and would ask you if he did.

"Y/n, did I kiss you just now?" 🧍😗🫶

"Yes, sweetie, yes you did." 🫶😊

🤨🤨 "I didn't? Darling I'm so sorry." He gets up from the dining table and walks over to you.

"But- baby you did-"

He kisses you anyway and you get all pink 💖💖

You're suprized how you kept track of his kisses up til this point.

Beomgyu

This man bites you.

He'd just walk over to you randomly then proceeds to suction cup your cheek with his lips

Legit you'd just be standing like 🧍 and then all the sudden you see this next to you: ✨👄✨

When he's in public he literally fights the urge to just nibble you.

He really likes the feel of your plushed cheeks on his lips, on his cheeks.

Yes he'd see you laying down and he'd lay with you, head on top of yours, cheek to cheek.

And you'd kinda just stay there, not moving, very much enjoying this 'cheek kiss'.

You'd play with his hair while you're at it and put on a show until the both of you sleep 🥰🥰 all cuddled up and drained from a long day, this is what the both of you need <33 (mostly what beomgyu needs, though)

He probably sleeps on your cheek better than any pillow (though you do tell him not to do that too much or for too long because health issues 🫶🫶)

Taehyun

Taehyun is more of a starer. You get me?

Like he won't necessarily knead your cheeks or stretch them out.

He kinda just stares.

Until you notice.

"Hi hyunnie!!" 🥰🥰

"Taehyun?" 🤨😦 "Taehyun are you alright?"

Man hasn't blinked in the last five minutes. "Hm? Yes sweetie of course I'm doing great." 🥰🥰

😭😭 you tell him not to stare for too long because sometimes things like this happen more than you expected or would like it to last.

So he pokes your cheeks.

Occasionally.

He leaves quick pecs if he's feeling a little bit lovey dovey that particular day but then quickly covers his mouth at your sheer softness like this 🤭🤭🤭

His lips still tingle after kissing your squishy cheeks <33

What he loves most is when you eat! Because you chew so cutely with your food kept in your cheeks making them even poofier and he just turns all pink and fluffy on the inside 😭😭

Literally imagine eating three times a day everyday with this man- this dude across the table smiling and blushing because of how adorable you are.

(but hey, you do kinda like it when he's totally focused on you hehe)

He couldn't help it!! You're too adorable 😭😭💞

Huening Kai

Like Yeonjun, Huening Kai likes to grab your face and play with your cheeks like playdough

Except he doesn't like anything getting in the way between his fingers and your cheeks.

Lotion, face wash, sunscreen, no to all of that

Mans lives for that skin to skin contact 👏👏🤩

Because of this, he kinda just rubs your face all the time.

Didn't matter what you were doing.

He could walk in a room and immediately cup your face

You would be eating lunch and your cheeks are EVEN CHUBBIER than normal and he'd poke it gently 😭😭

Here's the cutest part

You'd be sleeping peacefully right? And Huening Kai gets you all snuggled up and ready in bed

But before he sleeps with you, he snaps a picture of your angelic sleeping baby face 🥰💞💞

AND IN THE PHOTO HE'D LIGHTLY PINCH THE TOP CORNER OF YOUR CHEEK AAA 😭😭🤧🤧💞💞💞

Bonus: he'd send it to the Txt gc, and the other members would spam crying and heart emojis wishing they could touch your cheeks too 🫶🫶

KSMAJLAJA I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!!

Reblog and review if you like my work 🫶🫶 they are greatly appreciated!!

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somnambulic-thing · 6 months

Text

wrong number 2.2k

A/N: Just had an idea for a fic I will very probably never write in a fully flashed out way because I have a million wips and no attention span and no deisre to have more wips but don't want to fully let this idea go to waste so here it goes in very shortened form and probably very messy and rough.

Eddie x afab!reader || imagine them in their early/mid 30s

cw: mental health themes, reader has a broken leg, angsty shit, fluff, happy end

You moved cities to have a fresh start after a rough time came to an even rougher but long overdue end. You know nobody here, a clean slate to draw new blueprints on.

Two weeks in and despite your grumpy hermit ways, you are friendly with some of your neighbours already. They are nice, helpful people which is a win you take like it was a million bucks.

Three weeks in, you fall down a flight of stairs, break your leg and bump your head. Brilliant.

Back from the ER you sink into your bed, looking at still unpacked boxes and biting back bitter tears of frustration when your phone beeps. You eye it suspiciously, anxious your past might be knocking already, bloodhounds of days past sniffing your weakend state and their chance to inflict a little more pain.

You figure you're overracting, turn on the sceen and find a message from an unknown number.

[Hey Rick. Sorry to drop this on you on such short notice, but I won't make it to your get-home-from-prison party tonight. I can swing by next week with a six-pack or something. You have a good time, yeah? I'll explain when we see each other.]

[Hey there. I'm afraid you got the wrong number. I don't know any Ricks. But gratulations to him from me for getting out of prison, when you get a chance. Unless he's a serial killer or something comparable. Then I want you to run.]

[Well, shit. Sorry.]

And then after a few seconds: [I get back to you in case I need a place to hide.]

And somehow this sparks a conversation that lasts for hours. His name is Eddie, you learn after some minutes of back and forth which are unsuspectedly remarkably funny. But he's surprisingly also really concerned about your leg and your mild concussion and the fact that you mentioned you will give yourself one day of rest and then try to catch up on and get as much stuff done as you can with your cast and crutches. Luckily you can work from home, you say. Eddie isn't sure how he feels about that.

He makes you swear you take it easy. He asks if there are people that can take care of you and you lie to that concerned stranger who is the first person to make you laugh out loud in a too long time. You tell him your friends are taking turns to look after you. Why lie to a stranger? It's complicated... He keeps checking in, keeps chatting with you about all kinds of things all day long no matter what he has to do: Work, band practice, DnD, being out with friends or his uncle, Eddie keeps lighting up your phone all day long. The later the day, the deeper your conversations and you soon get the feeling that Eddie isn't all just fun and jokes but when you actually try to poke softly, he evades you.

[When you feel better and still are interested in my bullshit, I'll share. Promise.]

Okay, fine. Why would he want to trust you with his private struggles? He's just a stranger, with friends and an support system, who probably will lose interest to invest his time into you sooner than he himself is expecting. Which is fine... really... would be fine if he wasn't really funny... and interesting with a hundred interests and hobbies... and so weird and oddly caring... and living on the other side of the country.

But four days in and you wake up with a text from him, asking you if you finally could sleep a little better than the days before.

And then at 3am and endless hours of exchanging messages filled with thoughs and musings and dreams, he offers to send you a copy of a book he is sure you would enjoy. That he really needs... you to read for important reasons. One of them is to remedy the boredom inflicted by bedrest in those hours Eddie is busy and can't entertain you.

You give him your address almost without second thought, despite your mind telling you to maybe think about it first...

You had avoided anything outside of texts - no pictures, no calls - and he hadn't pressed the matter by himself. Which was a relief because you're not sure if you could witstand the temptation if he were to offer.

Getting more pieces of him... It just felt too dangerous. But a book was just a book, right?

You rely on your 72 year old neighbour for food and other errands and chores around your place. Mrs P is such a sweet old lady eager to help as much as she can, bending over backwards for you. So you naturally try to bother her only when it's really dire.

Seven days in and you see the postman stuff a small parcel into your mailbox. You hurry to snatch your crutches, not even thinking about what you are doing and you limp down the six stories to your mailbox way too fast. Your head is not happy and neither is your leg and it takes you and your ego ages and all your strength to get back up to your apartment.

You fall into your bed, exhausted, sweaty and in pain and crying in frustration and you fall asleep on the package from Eddie before you can even think of opening it.

Your phone rings and wakes you up when it's already pitch black outside. You've slept most of the day away.

Answering the phone on autopilot, still half asleep you don't check the name on the screen.

"Yeah?" you drawl.

"Jesus fucking Christ you're alive."

"What--? I--"

"I haven't heard from you in hours and your messages sounded so antsy and sad all day and I had a bad feeling somehow. Are you ok? Did I wake you?"

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. Hi, that's my voice. Anxious edition."

You're overwhelmed. Finding no words while his words dig deep trenches of longing into your brain which are hard to get out of...

"You still there?"

"Uh-hn, yeah..."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just woke up, like you said. That's my voice. Sleepy edition."

And then he laughs. Oh god, what a sweet sweet sound.

"Hmm, sorry I just was really worried here..."

You tell Eddie there is nothing to worry about but that he's very sweet and he asks you if you have a little time to chat, tells you he likes your voice, likes it a lot and of course you have time but something weighs on you and the flutter of bats in your stomach.

You can't say if it's the aftershock of your staircase ordeal or the fact that your wonderful stranger keeps getting more and more real and more and more precious or a mixture of both. Suddenly there is silence on the other end of the line.

"Eddie? You still there?"

"Something's off."

You shuffle and feel the parcel poke into your ribs. You dig it out from under you, face heating up from two sources - the gift and his tone - and you start to fumble the parcel open.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't be. I just want to help. Let me help."

You finally fully unwrap the book. It's a well loved worn paperback copy. You run your fingertips over every wrinkles and cracks in the cover. Your voice sounds dazed to your own ears when you speak.

"I got your book..."

"Oh. Okay, yeah, great. And?"

You notice the excitement in his voice, notice that it matches your heartbeat when you open the book and find it full of notes. On some pages the margines are completly filled with Eddie's toughts.

"I just unwrapped it, like, ten seconds ago."

"Oh."

"I didn't realize you would send me... such a personal thing... looks like a diary..."

"Kinda is. Too weird?"

You stare at his handwriting which is somewhat of an elegant scratch and all those little sketches and something inside you gives way.

"I'm not okay..."

"I know. Tell me?"

You tell him that you lied, that there were no friends despite your eldery neighbor looking after you and you tell him about your little ordeal this afternon and about feeling tired and lonely and scared and starved for joy and he listens through it all.

Now it will be too much, you think but then you look at the book in your lap and keep talking. When you're done, there is silence on the other end.

"You still there."

"Processing."

"Mad?"

"Nope."

"Too much?"

"For me?" He chuckles. It's bitter and wonderful. "Sweetheart, it's not me who's dealing with all that shit right now. If you can handle living it, I can handle listening to it..."

"I hear you swallowing a but."

"But I know what you're talking about..."

You talk a little longer and despite him saying everything is alright, something is different. He seems distant, distracted, not fully with you. You keep leafing through that book, gently tracing the lines that are proof of his existance, marks he left in the world, preparing for him to ask you to send it back as soon as you can. You prepare for him to realize this was a mistake. A charity case gone wrong.

Eventually you get tired and a headache and he tells you to go rest, voice soft and deep and you're preparing for this to be the last time you'll hear it.

"Sleep well, yeah?"

No more sweetheart.

"I will. You too."

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

You have a restless night and wake up to a message from him.

[Good Morning. How did you sleep?]

You smile, feeling stupid, like you overreacted and you exchange some messages but they are short and flat and there is still no sweetheart. Around noon, your phone has gone silent. Inside your chest, the echoes of disapointment are deafening.

You bury yourself in his book, and it feels like you're having a conversation with him through his notes for they are like direct replies to your own thoughts about the story unfolding. You can't put it down, probably look up from it for the first time in hours late in the evening when you're full on crying, holding the book away from you to not get tears or snot on it.

And then there is a knock at your door. Three sharp raps. Quick.

And you think it must be Mrs P with your groceries, you feel guilty that she has to carry all the stuff upstairs while her knee is bothering her. You make your way out of bed, get your crutch and slowly move towards the door.

"Coming!"

You realize you still have the book in your hand and you wedge it under your arm to open your door and--

"Hi."

Your heart is racing as your mind tries to keep up with what is happening. You consider pinching yourself, consider reaching out to touch him, see if he's made of flesh and blood or delirium, feel the dip of a frown-made crease betwen his brows under your fingertips, the fine stubble on his cheeks under the slide of your thumb.

"That's my face. Worried edition... why are you crying?"

You lean against the crutch, wipe at your cheeks with one hand, dry your fingers on your shirt and pluck the book from under your arm, holding it up wordlessly. Eddie's face lights up in a big, wide, gorgeous smile. Now there are dimples you want to explore. Suddenly the floor is moving.

"Easy, easy." Warm hands steady you. You hear the door fall close behind you and then it finally dawns on you.

The dreamy guy from inside your phone is inside your flat.

He's holding you steady by your shoulders on outstreched arms, searching your face with big, incredibly dark eyes.

God he's fucking beautiful.

"You gonna faint, beautiful?"

You shake your head. That's all you can do.

"I'm going to use your very understandable shock to ramble for a moment, okay? Okay. The obvious first. What the fuck am I doing here without invitation? Offering you my help. I rearranged all my shit and I can stay for two weeks, if you like. I have a hotel room booked and ready if you don't want me to stay the nights. Next: Why didn't I ask on the phone first? Because I kinda feared you would just say no and be all tough and stupid about needing help. I am way more charming in person and I was counting on me actually being here, a real guy, showing you that I mean it, would make it easier to convince you... Am I pushy? Yeah. I guess I am. But... if you really want me to piss off again, I will piss off. We pretend that I was just getting back my book because you're not fit to get to the post office right now and I'll never bother you again... but I could stay and make you dinner while you tell me which part of the book made you cry, decide over my fate when you're fed and calmed down? I left a whole load of food with your neighbor downstairs. Nice lady. Thinks you're a stubborn thing, by the way."

You swallow around something enourmous and try your vocal cords on something simple.

"Hi."

He tilts his head, smiles softly.

"Hey sweetheart."

You inhale deeply. Your exhale either carries bravery or invites doom but suddenly you're really, really hungry...

"You're really here."

"Yeah, shit, I know... to be honest, my knees are really wobbly right now?"

"You're crazy."

"Hmm, totally... bad case... started about a week ago..."

And there you see it. He's nervous too. That finally makes him real.

"So," you say, reaching out to cup his cheek, your touch coaxing out those dimples again. "What's for dinner then?"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #long fics I will never write #my fic

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yeetwinchester2 · 11 months

Text

Skipping

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary: Y/N had been struggling with her ED lately, but the team doesn't know that. Sent on a mission, and her partner doesn't know that it's been two days since she's eaten.

Warnings: Eating Disorder(s), passing out, angst

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

"C'mon Steve! Seriously? What else do you want me to do? She's been on every mission with me! I'm tired of her!" Throwing his hands in the air out of frustration. Bucky has had a hatred for Y/N for as long as anyone can remember. She's a former Hyrda experiment such as himself, yet they're polar opposites. Bucky is harsh, brutal, dark, seemling always seeing the negative. Yet, Y/N is kind, caring, light, and always positive. Everyone liked her. except Bucky. But she never let that get in the way of things. She treated him just the same as she did everyone else.

"She's one of our best, and so are you. I'm sorry Buck, but you need to get over it. You can out up with her for just a little while longer. You know how these things go. We get the best of the best. That's you two. We need both of you for this one. We can't have either of you back out."

"Fine. But this is the last mission with her. After this, I'm done. I can't take it anymore. Just something about her I can't stand."

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Go get ready. We leave in the morning. Carrier 0430 sharp. We leave at 0500."

‐----------------------------

The morning comes, 0430 and the team has met at the carrier. Everyone but Y/N. Which is odd, considering Y/N is almost always one of the first to arrive, prepared and full of energy. The first to notice was Nat. Once it was mentioned, Everyone followed suit with confusion.

0440 and she still hasn't shown up.

0445 and still no word from her.

0455. Nothing.

Just as they were about to call over the comms, she appears, running up to the carrier, duffle bag in hand. Immediately blurring out an apology.

"Sorry guys! I got caught up in something. But I'm here now and I've got everything, I'm good to go."

"You sure? We were getting worried." Clint said unsure of what had happened.

"Yeah, I'm good."

Everyone just brushed it off and assumed she must've slept in or missed her alarm or something of the sort. But Bucky could tell something wasn't right. He didn't know what or why, but he knew something was off. He didn't say anything, though. It's not his business, why should he care?

Steve stood, getting everyone's attention. He pulled a small map from his pocket and laid it out for the team to see. "Alright, I know we already went over the mission, but here's a recap. Nat and Clint will take the guards at the right rear entrance, me and Tony at the left rear. Y/N and Bucky will talk the center. The main objective is to retrieve the hard drive from their maim computer system. They're smart, which means this won't be easy. Stay with your partner. Watch out for each other. If you get separated, you get hurt. Six of us exiting the carrier, six of us returning, understood?"

"Aye Aye, Captain." Bucky joking saluted.

‐----------------------------

The mission went as expected, until it didn't. You and Bucky broke through the center entrance doors and took down the first set of guards without any problems. It was cold, and the alarms seemed louder than usual. Everything seemed fine, maybe feeling a little weaker than usual, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Bucky was busy with several guards on his own, while you were lucky enough to handle them one at a time. You only had one or two more to take down, Bucky had a few more. You began to feel weaker and weaker by the second. The last guard put up a tough fight, eventually winning against you. Fighting with all you had, but it wasn't enough. You took hit after hit, in the face, the gut, the side, until all you saw was black.

‐----------------------------

Bucky sent bullets through one guard after another until he no longer had anything to shoot with. So, he turned to his trusty knives and combat boots. Kicking, punching, and slashing all that comes his way. He was pleased with his completion of his portion of the mission, that is until he saw you on the ground, beat. He didn't hesitate to rush to your side. For a moment, forgetting how much he hated you.

"It's clear over here, but Y/N is down." He says over the coms, letting the rest of the team know his plan.

"On it. How bad is she?" replies Nat, her voice laced with concern.

"Not sure. I'm gonna take her back to the jet and do what I can from there." He brings your unconscious body up into his arms and carries you towards the exit and back into the jet.

‐----------------------------

You slowly try to open your eyes, bringing up a hand to block out the bright light hovering above you. Suddenly, it dissappears.

"Hey, hey, lay back down. Y/N, it's Bucky. You went down during the mission and we are in the jet. We need to figure out what happened with you. What hurts?"

"Nothing much right now, I'm fine. Just got a headache," you say, swinging your legs across the side of the bed, attempting to brush off the embarrassment. Hoping and praying that he doesn't try to investigate any further, knowing it'll be 10x more embarrassing than what he's already witnessed.

"What happened out there? I've never seen you go down that quick."

"The guy just got to me and he was stronger than I must've realized. I'm fine though. Just drop it, please." You didn't want to seem rude, but more importantly, you didn't want him knowing.

With perfect timing, Steve calls over the coms, "Good work, team. We're done here. See ya at the jet."

‐----------------------------

Everyone else boards the jet, each one asking some version of "you ok?" And you just nod with a smile and hid it all the best you can. God, you're starving. It been two days since you've had a meal. You knew it wasn't good for you. You would've eaten before the mission, but you felt fine before. More importantly, you looked fine, so there was no need.

You had struggled with an eating disorder for a few years now. It had calmed down and you had almost forgotten about it for a while. One bad instagram post from a model or the wrong word being said or one bad joke about your body. That's all it took to trigger your ED.

You had started living with the team while it was getting better, so you never told them about it. You worked out with them, ate with them, appeared healthy around them. But when you were alone, it was quite the opposite. Doing anything to keep yourself from eating, doing extra workouts to burn the calories. The team never found out, but it has been getting worse and you're worried some of the team may have noticed something was wrong. They've said you look tired, or maybe even smaller than usual. All that last comment did was encourage you even further. So, you kept going, letting it get worse. Skipping more meals, avoiding the team as much as possible, working out every chance you get.

‐----------------------------

You were sent the the med bay as soon as the jet touched the base. You were checked over and over. Turn out, you only had a concussion and broken nose. It could have, probably should have, been much worse. You have Bucky to thank for saving you. From the med bay, you were released and headed straight to your room.

You walk down the hall towards your room, the one just before Bucky's. You want to thank him, but now's not the time.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

this is is definitely a part 1. but I get on Tumblr like once every 6 months so who knows if there will ever be a part 2.

#bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky x reader #disordered eating in tags

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vidavalor · 6 months

Note

hi there 👋 i love reading your good omens metas. i'm wondering if you have any thoughts on aziraphale's line to crowley in 1967: "i can't have you risking your life, not even for something dangerous". this always sticks out as odd to me. obviously he doesn't want crowley risking his life for any reason, so why this weird qualifier?

Hi @mybelovedismine Thank you so much. :) I am so sorry it took me awhile to get back to you. Love me some 1967 Crowley & Aziraphale and this question is great. Cheers.

1967/Holy Water Era/some S2 Aziraphale meta under the cut.

If you go back-- and I mean way back-- to the very opening bit of GO 1.01, it opens with what seems at first like it's just a quirky, funny scene introducing God and her sense of humor and the show's sense of humor. It is all of that but it also contains what I think is a really important piece of information-- especially with relation to the 1967 scene-- which is the date that Earth began in the GO universe. Crowley and Aziraphale don't know exactly when the end of the world will come but they know "about" when-- and that is a ticking clock running in the background for them for millennia.

The date that God gives us for the creation of Earth at the opening of S1 means that 6,000 years exactly would math out to October 21, 2004... but we also know that they don't know if it's going to be *exactly* 6,000 years. It could have been 5,900. It could have been 6,500 or anything in between. It winds up the super-cruel 6,004 years, beginning in 2008 in S1. What is clear to Crowley & Aziraphale is that their experience is closer to that of humans in a way because even though 6,000 years would be a very long time to humans, it's "nothing", as Angel!Crowley put it in Before the Beginning, to Crowley & Aziraphale... and there has always been a very good chance that it's all they will ever have together.

Their relationship is like someone turned over an hourglass on the wall at Eden and it's been dripping sand steadily in the background this whole time. It's partially why their relationship accelerates a little faster over the last few centuries, imo. There is a chance they're running out of time together. Armageddon means the Great War between Heaven and Hell and they are an angel and a demon. Whatever side wins the war is the one who will live on for all of eternity. The other one won't survive it-- or, even if they did, they won't be able to be with each other. Not to mention that Armageddon means that, regardless of who wins the Heaven and Hell war, Earth will be destroyed and their life on it together will be over.

Aziraphale always thinks Heaven will win. He always thinks it's him who will have to spend eternity alone. Part of this is because he has to tell himself that Heaven is still the side of good, even if it's flawed, because he can barely deal with the guilt over being part of the machine that's caused Crowley so much pain. Aziraphale also thinks, though, that maybe when the time comes, they can find a way out of it all, somehow.

In close to 6,000 years, the best plan they've got for dealing with this is Crowley's plan to just run away to Alpha Centauri and hope that no one notices that they're deserters. (So, not a great plan, but also they're up against the will of God here so kind of hard to try to work out a way around that.) In S2, Aziraphale is so desperate-- SO desperate-- for a way to not have to lose Crowley that he is willing to entertain the idea that he can trust The Metatron's word and beg Crowley to come to Heaven with him and be an angel again just so that they can be together forever. Aziraphale doesn't need Crowley to be an angel to know he's good and to love him-- he already knows and feels those things. He loves him so much that he can't bear the thought that he could lose him. He's never been able to bear that thought.

In 1967, they were running out of time and it's something that became increasingly intense for them the closer the years got to 2004 and the day they would hit 6,000 years since the Earth's creation.

In 1967, they were down to 37 years until 6,000 years were up, so the end of the world was, to them, a moment away.

It's not hard to see how Crowley wants to carpe diem and go for broke, in case it's all they'll ever have. He wants to be a little less careful. To try for the things they haven't been able to give each other while they've had to be a secret for so long. 'Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all', right? And they have loved, do love, are loving in 1967... but Crowley feels the time slipping away and his anxiety is dialed up to eleven under that cool exterior and Aziraphale knows him like he knows the back of his hand and he can see where this is all going... and it's not where either of them want it to go.

Think of this from Aziraphale's point of view...

Aziraphale is an angel. His soul is saved. He is meant to survive Armageddon. That, to him, is actually something of a curse at this point because it means that he'll live for eternity. For *all* of time. An absolutely incomprehensible amount of time. Neverending time. The kind of amount of time that would make 6,000 years feel like less time than it took you to blink while reading this sentence. And if everything goes according to what they know of God's Ineffable Plan or Great Plan or Whatever The Fuck It Is lol, he's going to live through all of this time alone.

Without Crowley.

Forget even the end of Earth and humanity (and that's hard to forget lol), Aziraphale is slated for a post-apocalyptic return to Heaven and a celestial cubicle and spending all of time with Michael and Uriel and Sandalphon and no food and no books and no music and even all of that, he could stand, if only he could just have Crowley with him and he can't.

Because Crowley's a demon. He's fallen. He's eternally damned. Heaven has socialized angels to believe that the war between Heaven and Hell that Armageddon triggers will be the big triumph of Heaven over Hell. Aziraphale tells himself he believes it but he's honestly more *terrified* of it than devoted to the idea. Heaven triumphing over Hell could kill Crowley. It's what Aziraphale is *supposed* to want as an angel but it's actually *the exact opposite* of what he wants. He adores Crowley. He will never-- in all of the infinite time to come-- ever get over Crowley and he knows it.

Even if Crowley somehow survives The Great War 2.0, Earth will still be gone and Crowley's fate is eternity in dark, cramped, literally painful damnation in Hell. There is no way for them to be together without thwarting the will of God and Aziraphale is an angel-- his entire purpose as a being is to serve God. It's what he was made *by God* to do, as far as he's been taught, and he mostly believes it... it's just that he also thinks he was made for Crowley.

This isn't just what Crowley thinks. Crowley isn't wrong that this is a mutual feeling:

Aziraphale felt that then, too, and he's never stopped feeling it. It blends sometimes with his faith in God-- something that, ironically, he sometimes thinks Crowley somehow has more of than he does. If God made him and God made Crowley and if God made them for each other, then it can't really be just to take them away from each other after such a short time, can it? Maybe they're meant for some other purpose in all of it?

But this is the same God that Aziraphale knows can be cruel...

Aziraphale has gone up against the will of God countless times over the years now and he is, for reasons he doesn't understand, somehow still an angel.

It seems unjust and honestly pretty profane to him that *he* is the holy one when Crowley's been through--quite literally-- Hell, for thousands of years, and his biggest sin is being curious. It is very hard to be told that you were created for the purpose of representing the side of good in a war against good and evil but to then, over and over and over, find yourself believing that the good guys are maybe not so good... all the while falling deeper in love by the day with a being your side calls 'demonic' and 'evil' but whom you know to be a sweet, romantic, smart, gentle, funny, kind cinnamon roll. Crowley is a demon and he's the best angel Aziraphale knows.

Now imagine you've all those conflicts and you're running out of time and staring down the end game of all of this and when you've got maybe, if you're lucky, a century and a half left or so worth of sand is still in the top half of the hourglass (mid-1800s), Crowley starts to pull away from you.

He's honestly never done it to this extent before. He trusts you with a surprising amount of himself and has since early days and, in recent centuries, you were happy together-- as happy as your situation would allow and that was more than you ever thought you'd have. This is the same being whose willingness to push through his fear of being vulnerable to have something honest and intimate with you has had you in awe of his bravery since you met. He taught you how to do that and now he's putting up walls you can't scale and slamming shut every open door.

You were happy together and then, you went on a date in Edinburgh in 1827 and suddenly, the centuries of peace and of getting away with it all ended in a literal second when Crowley got dragged to Hell two feet away from you. Hell didn't find out about the two of you or about Elspeth-- they were pissed about the human grave guards that Crowley accidentally sent to Hell for shooting Wee Morag-- but Crowley comes back a couple of weeks later and it's like it's all over already.

He's badly shaken. They hurt him. He spent time in Hell not sure if they had found out about you or if you were still alive. The anxiety, depression, and PTSD he has from being cast out of Heaven and a lifetime of trying to survive being a demon of Hell goes into overdrive and you don't know what to do. You've always been good at helping him. Nothing works. The bookshop-- your home but his, too, in your mind, the safest space he can go to to get away from Hell and get some rest-- isn't enough. He's not coming around the way he used to. He doesn't want to talk about any of it. The connection between the two of you-- emotionally, sexually-- feels like it's eroding. It hurts more than you want to admit. Your relationship de-evolves for almost 35 years as you watch the spark seem to go out of him. You don't know how to fix it and you try everything you can think of. You can understand how the ticking clock makes it all hurt more and you don't want him to be in any pain-- ever-- and you'd go away entirely if it was what he really wanted but neither of you know how to say goodbye because you both know that neither of you actually want to.

He's your best friend. He's the only one like you in the universe. You're both miserable and lonely without each other and it seems stupid to spend the last years you might ever get together apart but it also seems impossible to ever get back to where you were. Then, one day, after *years* of this, he asks you for the one thing that can *kill him*...

In the moment, all you can think about is that he wants to die because he's seemed like he does for decades now. All you can think of is that he is in so much pain and he wants nothing from you but the means by which to end it.

He's your lover. Imagine being told by the being with whom you've spent countless pleasurable hours in bed that all he wants from you now is a suicide pill.

He used to laugh. He used to be silly and hilariously dry-humored. He used to flirt with you and gaze at you from the couch on the bookshop, all pretty yellow eyes and lounging limbs, and now he's spine-straight stiff, like the pain is what's holding up. He arranges meetings in the park instead of coming over. He wears his glasses, all the time. You can't remember when the last time you saw his eyes was.

All of it says to you that you aren't enough and then he asks you to give him a suicide pill and you're broken-hearted-- you're just broken, period at the thought of him in so much pain-- and you're angry. You're furious. How dare he do this to you? You've been in love for millennia. He is your best friend. How dare he shut you out and leave you alone when you are going to be alone without him for the rest of bloody time?!

You're so in your feelings about him shutting you out that you know you have been failing at caring for him and not really helping the situation for awhile now. Your defenses have been up for awhile. Years, probably. You're caustic and, frankly, pretty bitchy in your bitterness. It's a little twisted but you've tried everything else and maybe if you could even just make him angry, it'd at least be something. He's barely spoken above a whisper in thirty years and sometimes you think about him off his head on laudanum in Edinburgh, drawing you to him magically by your bow tie to look at you over his glasses, inches away, and how you didn't know that was going to be the last time he ever really flirted with you.

So, when he asks you for holy water in 1862, you do your best to piss him off, since he won't accept anything else from you lately. You used to be wildly compatible and now you're broken and you're angry because God was always going to break your heart by taking him from you but he was never supposed to. He was supposed to love you-- those things neither of you say-- to the end.

You did get him angry. You both got angry. So angry that it felt over.

It wasn't. You saw each other again in the interim and it didn't just magically heal itself, like you wished it would, because you regretted how you reacted to the request for holy water but somehow talking about it felt too much.

Because you thought you might have understood it more afterwards.

Because you began to understand that he felt vulnerable. That he needed to feel like he could defend himself and, if it came to it, you. That maybe he didn't want to die-- maybe he wanted to live. That this was him asking you to help him figure out how to feel safe again-- something you've actually always been good at-- and you were so afraid, too, that you handled it badly.

Maybe one of the things you were afraid of in the moment was the way he talked about it going wrong, going pear-shaped, about him wanting insurance... about how there wasn't a way to reframe that in your mind to not mean that he meant he was willing to kill a demon in your defense or his-- which could kill him. It could send a legion after him and destroy him. There was so much that could go wrong. No matter what Crowley wanted holy water for, his death felt like it was the end game. You would throw yourself into Hellfire before you did anything that could cause him harm.

He had been pulling away for years but there he was saying I would kill for you. I would die for you. and that was the closest either of you had ever come to saying I'm in love with you. and you weren't sure what was more dangerous: saying those truths you both knew and felt or holy water.

Crowley didn't bring it up again and neither did you. You're useless without one another so you saw each other again within the next couple of decades. The Old West in America. Back in London in the 1920s and times in between. Neither of you ever discussed the Holy Water fight or what it meant. You secretly learned to drive, for the future, just in case, when he turned up stupidly in love with a car in 1928. You would die for that dumb car if only because of how Crowley smiled when he turned up to take you for a ride.

Over time, Crowley seemed to get a bit better and your heart burst just looking at him, even if it also ached with the knowledge that you had made it harder and hadn't known that time how to help when he needed it.

Then, 1941. The Blitz. Bombs raining down over London and the world on the brink of nuclear annihilation and maybe, just like the humans, you both thought this might be it. Time slowed to surviving each night and every moment felt like it could be the last and maybe that's why you both wanted a different ending.

Crowley always did prefer the funny ones.

In the middle of it, Crowley joked about holy water-- the first time either of you had mentioned it in 80 years-- and you heard it there, woven into his quiet, coded but undisputable, confessions of love. It was for you, it was about you, it was to keep you safe... it was because you were two feet away from me when they took me and I want to be with you to the end and it's the only thing that can help me keep you safe from them.

He doesn't ask you for it again. You know why. Things are good. He doesn't want to fight. He doesn't want you to reject him again. He doesn't want to admit again that he feels unsafe. You think about giving him some after 1941 more than once but you are now afraid of what it might say to him if you do.

Because you could both be almost out of time, if everything goes pear-shaped when the clock runs out on about 6,000 years, and Crowley wants to try for more.

You both want forever. You both aren't sure that you'll even get tomorrow. The world is speeding up in 1967-- has been for decades now-- and you think Crowley is caught up in it. You both live in London, in SoHo, you'd be as safe as you could be. You'd blend in enough. It's too dangerous, though. It's not the humans you're afraid of, really-- not that the human world has ever been safe for your and Crowley's kind of love and you aren't sure that it will get there before it's all over. What you're afraid of is that you'll get caught by Heaven and Hell and you'll lose him before the about 6,000 years is up-- and then you will have no chance at all, whatsoever, of forever.

Crowley doesn't think he'll make it. He doesn't say so but his actions say so and his situation suggests it. He wants to go faster. He doesn't demand it, doesn't pressure you, but he periodically gently asks and you have to let him down somehow, you have to get him to slow down. It's not that you don't want him. If there were no risk to him, you'd never try to put up a speed bump. It's just that you are hopeful.

Ironically, you're hopefulness-- your optimism-- it comes from him.

He's brilliant. He's clever. Maybe, somehow, the two of you will find a way out of this.

You don't want to watch the world burn. You don't want to watch billions of humans and a whole planet and a whole solar system-- Crowley's nebulae-- destroyed for no reason and as much as you should be willing to go along with the Almighty's will, it's fucking ineffable and you secretly aren't sure if you believe in a God that would do this. You struggled during The Flood. You struggled over Job and Sitis' kids...

...if you are honest with yourself (and you are more than you care to admit), you struggle to be faithful to a God who has caused Crowley so much pain.

You think that, somehow, when the time comes, you and Crowley might find a way around it. How? You have no idea. None. But you think there is a chance that you could figure it out and so long as there is a chance-- even one, single, tiny, chance-- that somehow you and Crowley could survive it all and be together forever, you are not going to let him do something stupid and get himself killed trying to be together now.

You are not letting your far-sighted lover trip over his snake legs and go head-first into a faunt of stolen holy water that you could have given him safely 105 years ago, when he asked for it, and you fucked it all up...

You make him some. You use your powers and your essence and your body and turn water into a weapon for him. The real thing. The holiest.

You understand what it is to him now. It's not death; it's life. He doesn't want either of you to be in pain. He doesn't want to be left alone. He wants to feel safer. To be able to protect you from what Hell put him through and worse. He doesn't want to leave you. He wants a chance in Hell at surviving what's to come and an out for if it all goes pear-shaped and you want him to live and not to suffer and only you can give that to him.

You understand that now. It was never that you didn't trust him. It was that you didn't trust yourself.

You put it in a tartan thermos that silently says your anxious, emotional ass best thing of me before you ever decide to use this.

It also says this is for you to keep and it is of me and I know that's a risk if you ever get caught with it. I trust you to keep it hidden, like you do us, and protect me. This is for you and it looks like me and you know when the tartan started and why... you know it was because of our night in Edinburgh in 1827... you know it was the night they took you and I didn't know if I'd ever see you again and you know I've been wearing this pattern of us for 140 years and that I always will.

It's just that you also can't let him think that giving it to him is an assent of sorts. If Heaven or Hell ever found out you did this, they'd destroy you both.

So you rushed over with holy water, your tie undone, catching him before he can go any further with his scheme to pay humans to steal him some and you waited for him in the safety of The Bentley, one of the only places the two of you can actually talk with some expectation of privacy, and when he asks, you have to talk him out of it. You have to break his heart a bit. You have to disappoint him. You have to try to protect him from himself a bit or you'll lose him.

You tell him that you're giving him the holy water because you can't let him risk his life "not even for something dangerous." Dangerous is trying for more between you than there already is. You aren't rejecting him outright and he knows that. You never have, really. You see each other in secret. You have been for more years than either of you can count. You rely on each other to help each other to the right speed.

You need him to tempt you into giving yourself permission to do what you want and need but aren't sure you can or should. He needs you to help him keep from spiralling from anxiety.

He gets you to go a little faster-- not too much, at a pace you feel comfortable with. You get him to slow down-- gently, tenderly. You are both able to trust each other with your vulnerabilities and that's why it works.

He's blinded by the world changing in ways both exhilarating and also terrifying, by it breaking apart at the seams increasing his fear of running out of time.

You've been together for thousands of years.

You don't stay the night; you've never had breakfast together. You've never risked taking each other's hands in public. You've never directly said I love you.

If you can get him to see how dangerous it all still is-- because it is-- then maybe you can keep him alive long enough to have a shot of neither of you ever having to worry about losing each other again.

Somehow, it's not much different now than it was before the beginning. He's always been like this. Optimistic, progressive, free-thinking. Innovative. It might get you both out of all of it yet but it won't in 1967. He is caught up in the emerging new, human world and it's a heady cocktail when mixed with his existential terror. He's going to get himself fucking killed. You know better, just as you knew better before The Beginning. You know that too many questions, too much risk, will draw a metaphorical sniper's bead to his head. And you know that, on some level, he knows he needs you to rein him.

It's an era of freer sex and free love and wild, progressive music and art but... it's also an era of war and violence and assassinations... and Heaven and Hell are so far removed from Earth that it would take another 6,000 years to get them anywhere near close to this.

Crowley knows this, intellectually. You know he knows. He just feels the sand trickling faster and faster and there's hardly any of it left now.

You know how that feels-- you feel it, too. Every time you look at him. Everytime he slips away out the backdoor of the bookshop with a soft kiss and an even softer g'night, angel and you wonder if that was the last time.

Tick, tick, tick, tick...

Crowley sees All You Need is Love but you can see December 8, 1980 coming at some point down the road. You've both been on this planet long enough to know what they do to the first ones who break away, to the ones who go against the grain, and the humans are no different from Heaven and Hell in that way. You cannot tell him yes or you will be killing you both.

You put it on yourself a bit. He goes too fast for you, you tell him. It's not untrue. He does. It's just that if it all were different, you'd never refuse him anything. You hope he hears it as your issue, not his, though you doubt he will. It is so hard to look at him and tell him no when all he is saying he wants is the chance to love you more.

God, there are days when you think he might kill you if he were to love you any more than he does. You don't know what you ever did to deserve his love. You don't know how you survived before you met him or how you are supposed to if you lose him.

"You go too fast for me" is what you say and you know he understands that it means:

You'll burn us fast and bright and it will be amazing but it will *end*. They will catch us. They will kill us. I can't lose you. If I thought all we could ever have would be just a short, few years, then I wouldn't deny you but I think we could find a way to have forever. Somehow. I have hope for that. I get that hope *from you.* I need you to slow down because I can't watch you get yourself killed. I'm not strong enough to lose you. I need you to let me pace this for awhile...

You want him to know you understand, that you feel it all, too. So, you tell him of the things you'd like to do, if it was safer, not knowing if it ever will be. The things you choose are of all of these holy water years. A picnic-- one implied to be in the daylight, in this future you're both imagining, this world you hope to one day see emerge. He had tried to take you on a graveyard one at midnight in 1827. You know that had been what that would have been had you not ran into Elspeth. The two of you sneaking around in the dark, as always, but together. Alive. Maybe, you tell him now, you could one day have that picnic together under the sun. You think you can see that world. You have no idea how it arrives but he's not wrong. You can see some things changing here and there's always hope that things could change with Heaven and Hell. He has taught you to keep the faith in how he's survived the worst and remains optimistic.

Maybe, one day, you could be angels dining at The Ritz. It is intentional that you reference World War II. It is a way-- the only way you can right now-- to tell him you love him, as you both did in your own ways during The Blitz. It is saying:

I love you. I would love that life with you. I won't give up on the idea of it-- of having more than a short burst of it. That is why I need you to slow down and stay safe. It's too dangerous for more right now. Take the holy water and take a breath. You're okay. You have me. We keep *each other* safe, remember? Slow down. I need you with me forever.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #you go too fast for me #good omens 1967

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authoreetea · 4 months

Text

10 days of you

pairing : rafe cameron x reader

summary : part 3 to losing you, final part. where rafe had 10 days til christmas, and in those ten days, he is determined to win you back.

note! i am so sorry this took so long, i've literally been so busy with uni stuff. hope u like!

p2 p1

The cool air engulfed the people of the outer banks, carrying the promise of holiday magic as figure eight was decorated in festive lights. I found myself caught in the undertow of emotion, remembering the ten days of Rafe trying to "win me back"

I can't help but bite back a smile, It made me feel all warm and I could feel the butterflies fluttering in my body. The first day, I awoke to a large bouquet of my favorite flowers with a note from Rafe.

it read; "Good morning, doll. I have a surprise in the living room.

love, Rafe."

I felt my cheeks warming up, I looked at my phone to see what time it was, and it was exactly time for breakfast. Walking down, I could already smell the fresh coffee and some sweet waffles.

"Hi darling, you sleep well?" Rafe asked, greeting me as I walked down the stairs.

I smiled at him, "Yes, I did. Thank you for the flowers by the way, you remembered my favorites. " in turn, he smirked at me and bent down to my height.

"Of course I did, I could never forget anything about you." Rafe said, in a semi raspy and quiet tone that makes me wanna jump him

"Anyways, I made you some coffee and waffles. Eat up! I have a lot prepared for today." He says, leading me to the dining table.

There were two plates of fluffy waffles with bacon and syrup on the side with a cup of coffee in the same christmas mugs I bought years before.

"This looks so good!" I say, my eyes wide with excitement. "You cooked these?" I asked, looking at him.

Rafe chuckles and nods, before pulling out a chair for you. mhm, gentleman.

I say a soft thank you and he sits in front of me. I dig in and instantly am greeted with pleasure. "So, what're we doing today?" I say, my mouth still half-full with some waffles.

He grins at me, "You're adorable. You'll see when we go to the living room."

After breakfast, Rafe guided me to the living room all while covering my eyes. "I really hope you like this."

He uncovers my eyes and I am met with our christmas ornaments and decorations that we used the last christmas we celebrated together.

"Are these-?" I start, but Rafe already answered.

"Yup. The same exact ones. I didn't decorate again after that, it felt wrong, without you." He said, and I almost teared up.

"Oh, Rafe." I say, in a soft voice. He smiles, redirecting the conversation.

"I also bought those ugly christmas sweaters you're obsessed with, look! we can match." Rafe says, showing the neatly folded ugly sweaters on the couch. I grinned, he knew me too well.

"These are so adorable, I love it!" I say, rushing to the couch to immediately wear the one intended for me as Rafe chuckles at my eagerness and wears his as well.

"I'm glad you like it." He says, before walking closer to me. "Will you, y/n, accept my invitation to decorate this house, that even Saint Nicholas himself would be jealous?" Rafe says playfully, holding his hand out for me to accept his invitation.

I accepted his hand as I chuckled like a little kid on Christmas Eve.

Almost hours later, We decorated the whole living and dining area with festive and warm decorations. "It's beautiful!" I say, looking at Rafe with a big smile.

"Just like you." He says, his eyes twinkling from the christmas lights as he looked at me so fondly. My cheeks started warming up, my heart beating faster.

Is it bad to admit I already feel like I'm falling in love with him all over again, on day one? I won't tell him that though, he needs to work for it.

Day Five

Days have passed and everyday I woke up with a handwritten note on the bedside table and a bouquet of flowers. I was curious as to what he had planned this time.

I read the note, it said ; "Hey beautiful, I went out for a while. Work stuff. Meet me at the front door by 11? Wear something casual, I'll see you.

love, Rafe."

It was already 8 am, I stood up and made my bed and had some breakfast. After doing my routine, I wore a simple sundress that I know Rafe loves, and a white knit cardigan cause it gets really chilly during December.

By the time I finished, it was almost 11 which was when Rafe arrived.

He walked in by the doorway, before he saw me, and his eyes were wide in admiration and his mouth slightly parted. "Hi, you look lovely." Rafe said, in a sigh as if he just got his breath taken away.

I smiled at him. "Thank you, you look nice." I say, taking note of his white button dow shirt and navy blue pants.

Grinning, Rafe opened the door "You ready?" He asks. I nod, walking out as he trails behind me. He opens the door to his Bentley and we sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"So, where are we going?" I ask. Rafe looks at me for a brief second, and smiles. "You remember, one of our first dates when we were sixteen, we had a really spontaneous picnic under a lighthouse by tannyhil that we only had candies and chips as our food?" He says, the memory clear as day as he talked about it.

I gasped and grinned, turning to him. "Oh my gosh, yes! I remember, we kept promising we'd come back next time more prepared."

He chuckles. "Yup, and I'll finally fulfill my promise." Rafe says, looking at me briefly again. He had his hand on the wheel as he drove, and his sunglasses hanging by the pocket of his shirt.

I took a minute to admire him, completely forgetting we were having a conversation. He smirks, looking at me again before looking bsck at the road.

"You alright?" He asks, a faint tone of teasing evident in his voice. I playfully roll my eyes.

Few minutes later we've finally arrived at the place. There was a red and white picnic blanket set on the floor, with pillows and fairy lights around, and Rafe got the basket filled with food from his car.

"This is so adorable, Rafe." I say in awe. He smiles at me and sets the food down on the picnic blanket.

"I got you all your favorite food. and for old times sake, I got the same gummy candies we had years ago." Rafe said, smiling as he took out the bag of candy and shook it.

I said down on the blanket, smiling as I looked at the food he got. He did have everything I liked, from fruits to my favorite pastries and meals.

I was in awe, he really still remembered everything I liked.

"Come, let's eat!" He says, handing me some chocolate covered strawberries. I take it from him and almost sigh at how absolutely delicious it was.

I looked around, this place still looked and feels exactly the same as it used to. I feel myself start to tear up, the nostalgia getting to me. Rafe notices and stopped what he was doing.

He looked at me with concern as he saw tears pooling in my eyes. "Darling, what's wrong? did I mess it up? We could do something els-"

"No, Rafe. It's perfect. I just feel nostalgic, It still feels exactly the same way it did when we were sixteen, I miss it." I say, my nose sniffling and turning red.

He looked at me with adoration in his eyes as he cupped my cheek, making me look up at his soft blue eyes.

"It's alright, doll. It's normal to miss things sometimes." He says, pausing to wipe a stray tear that fell with his thumb. " Do you remember? That night, we carved out initials on the bottom of this very lighthouse. " He said, pointing at the lighthouse, as he tried to distract me from my tears.

I smiled through my teary eyes and stuffy nose, and nodded. "Yeah, I wonder if it's still there?" I said, wiping of my eyes.

Rafe grins, standing up before pulling you along with him. "It is, look." He says, pointing at the wooden exterior of the lighthouse by the very bottom and it read his initials with a heart between yours.

"Awe, I can't believe it's still here, all these years." I say in shock, bringing my hands to touch the engraved initials.

Rafe smiles and says, "Just like I'll be. I'll be here, with you in all the years to come."

Days have passed and it was finally Christmas Eve. The previous days have been perfect, Rafe surprised me to a candle-lit dinner by the beach, a beautiful day on his boat, and more.

I felt myself falling deeper and deeper. This was the Rafe I originally fell in love with, and he was finally back.

Christmas Eve dawned with thick anticipation. Rafe, adorned with determination, stood by the tree we decorated on the first day, a single rose in hand.

"It's Christmas Eve, doll. Wanna open your gifts?" He says, greeting me with a hug.

I hug him back, inhaling his warm and comforting scent. "Yes! I got you some things too. Let's open together"

Laughter and joy was in the air, it felt lively. Rafe got me four gifts, a photo album with pictures from our teenage years, a beautiful dress, some designing equipment, and a really cute mug with those 3d tulips on the outside.

I was really grateful, we shared stories over hot cocoa as he opened all the gifts I got him. We celebrated the night with some cheesy hallmark Christmas movies and delicious christmas snacks.

Rafe looked incredibly nervous though, halfway through one of the movies. I don't know why, I assumed it was that he drank one to many hot cocoas.

He cleared his throat, taking me away from my thoughts. He gave me a sheepish smile.

"I actually... um" He started, pausing again, "I have another gift for you." He said, his voice quiet and shy, not the usual way that he is.

My eyes widen, "Really? You already gave so much, Rafe!"

He smiles at me, standing up to grab it from one of his drawers.

"I think this will top all my other gifts." He said, sitting back down. I looked at his hand and saw a ring box. I felt my heart skip a beat and my jaw dropping to the floor.

He looks at me with sincerity in his eyes, opening the box, revealing a beautiful ring that's exactly how I like it.

"Look, many years ago... I was really scared. I didn't have the best example of a good marriage growing up, and I didn't want to give that to you in fear that it'd be too hard." He says.

l feel myself tearing up again, damn christmas season always makes me emotional.

"I should've done this years ago, y/n. I shouldn't have let you go, I regretted it day after day. Now that I have the chance, I don't wanna wait for years anymore. What do you say? Have I won you over, darling?" Rafe says, he himself tearing up.

"Will you marry me, for real, this time?" He asks, his body inching closer and closer towards me. The room felt incredibly warm and my heart was beating crazily, Rafe was breathing fast and I could feel the anticipation in the air.

Tears finally fell down my eyes in waterfalls, and I looked like a blubbering mess. I threw my arms over his neck, attacking him in a hug.

"Oh, Rafe. This was all I ever wanted, Yes I will marry you!" I say, pulling apart to look at his face. He was also tearing up, and he had a smile on his face that looked like mine.

"I am so glad you said yes, darling. You won't regret this, I swear on my life. I love you." He says, wearing the ring on my ring finger.

"I love you too, Rafe." I said, crying tears of joy before his lips met with mine.

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