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hanglimi · 2 days

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waltzes and bets - hanni

TAGS - hanni x f! reader, just fluff, enemies to lovers, college!au

WORDCOUNT - 1.9k

WARNINGS - none that i know of?

A/N - this is written weirdly because i'm inconsistent and wrote this over the course of like, a full month, but i still hope you enjoy. also the ending is rushed i'm so sorry.

hanni never thought her college life would be so dreadful.

that was a lie.

she knew that the workload would be painful, and the sleepless nights would definitely take a toll on her mental health, but she never knew that specifically, the roommate portion of her college life would be so dreadful.

the door to their dorm slammed shut as her roommate decided to finally come in for the night. it had been at least three days since you had shown up to their dorm at all, and hanni was incredibly surprised to see you enter. you were definitely drunk–she could tell by the way your speech was slurred, and the overall appearance of your clothes–but it was still progress.

“are you drunk?"

you simply ignored her as you approached your room to sleep. considering it was 2 AM, she could understand your tiredness, but she still didn’t appreciate the silent response.

“bro!” she shouted, already infuriated with you despite it being 10 seconds of interaction in the past couple of days.

you turned to face her, and she didn’t realise how close you actually were to her face until she could smell the booze off your breath, and study each intricate detail of your eyes. flustered, she pushed you down onto the couch, and stood with her hands on her hips, keeping her distance from your sleepy gaze.

“do you ever stop to think about how I feel when you come here drunk, and after such a long time of not even being here at all?” hanni fumed, and she felt her face getting warmer at the thought of your inconsideration. “like, just think about it. you waltz in here at 2 AM, ignore my question, and-”

during her heated rant–practically monologue–you had knocked out on the couch, even going as far as snoring, quite loudly. she groaned, and almost slapped you awake, but decided against it. hanni quickly packed up her laptop she was using for studying, and eyed your form as she slowly walked towards her room. sure, she hated you, but wouldn’t it be the good thing to make sure you were comfortable as you slept?

she was just being nice, right? a nice, kind roommate, who deserved a better one.

you groaned as you opened your eyes, your head already starting to hurt from the insane amount of alcohol you had taken the night before. you felt like shit, and unfortunately, it didn’t seem like you had woken up in yunjin's dorm like you had been doing the past few days, but instead at the actual dorm you were currently paying to live in.

your back cracked as you lifted your body up from the couch. you had fallen asleep on it last night after being lectured by hanni–something to do with waltzes, but you never really knew nor cared for what she complained about half the time anyways.

surprisingly, the back of your head didn’t seem to hurt as much as it usually did when you fell asleep on couches, and your body was warm compared to the temperature inside of the room. that’s when you noticed the pillow you had been laying on, and your blanket splayed across your body, half of it on the floor. obviously you weren’t drunk enough to forget to sleep comfortably, which was a win in your book.

you got up from the couch, glad that today was a saturday and you had no plans to attend with friends. the dorm was obviously empty, only the rare creak of the floorboards as you paced around, and you let out a content sigh. today was going to be your dedicated relaxation day–a day to destress before exam season officially started next week.

only an hour into your “spa day” and immediately after your shower you already heard a knock on the door. deciding to ignore it, you continued to sing along to your music as you got into comfortable clothes, hoping it was just a student forgetting their dorm room. unfortunately, your bliss didn’t last long as the person knocked again, quite forcefully this time.

“i’m coming!” you shouted, groaning as you slipped on a shirt and struggled to step into your pants while walking towards the front door.

you opened the door to an angry hanni, crossing her arms, and who you assumed to be her friend, minji–the girl she was constantly on a call with–stood behind her.

“what the hell took you so long?” your roommate grunted as she peered into the dorm, her face blanching at the mess you left on the floor. hanni was sure she had told you earlier this week to clean up the place because she had a friend coming over, and you couldn't even do that. she shouldn’t have bothered to trust you. she groaned and pushed herself through you to walk inside, motioning to minji to give her one second as she closed the door and stood in front of you.

“i told you I had someone coming over today and you still left this place a mess?” hanni’s voice got louder while she spoke, and you swore you saw smoke coming from her ears.

“i had better things to do,” you said simply, and grinned at her shocked face. she only got angrier at that. she raised her fist and hit your shoulder repeatedly, intending to bruise it, but you only laughed it off, letting her have her moment before pushing her backwards and creating space between the two of you again, slightly missing the warmth of her presence.

“i’m sure minji won’t even mind,” you drawled, walking towards the couch and sitting down, pulling out your phone, “it’s not like I threw up on the ground or something. there’s just some dishes in the sink and some clothes on the floor.” you finished, but it seemed as though she had already given up and gone to open the door to let her friend in.

“sorry about the mess, minji,” she said, venom still in her voice. “we’ll just hang out in my room today.”

you don’t know why, but your heart felt disappointed at the sight of her back turned, leaving you to sit alone in the living room. you’d have to check in with your doctor soon.

two days had passed since the “clean up” incident–as hanni liked to call it– and she was still talking to her friends about it. she laid on her bed, propping her phone up to make sure the other 4 on the facetime could see her properly as she ranted.

“unnie!” hyein whined, accidentally dropping her phone on her face in the process. “you’ve been talking about y/n for two days straight!” she said, picking her phone back up and rubbing her face up and down.

“hyein! are you okay?” dani asked worriedly, as if she could reach through the screen to comfort her. hyein pushed her camera backwards to fit her hand into the frame, showcasing a thumbs up to the older girl.

“are you mad because she didn’t clean up, or because she didn’t listen to you?” haerin asked, staring intensely at her camera.

“w-what?” hanni sputtered, her cheeks burning red at the question. “obviously the former!” minji raised her eyebrows, and hanni wished it was possible to slap her through the screen.

“okay,” she dragged out the word, “maybe it was a bit of both.” the chaotic sound of four people speaking at the same time erupted from hanni's phone, and she quickly lowered her volume, considering the walls of the dorm were thin.

“guys, guys!” she yelled, trying to get the girls to calm down. “it’s not even about that, it's about the principle-”

“that's what they always say, but then in a couple of days i’ll see you guys kissing or something.”

“minji!”

the thing minji said stayed in hanni’s mind for longer than she would’ve liked, and now she couldn’t go a day without thinking about how it’d feel to kiss you. she would be lying if she said she wasn’t slightly attracted to you, but it definitely wasn’t as big as her friends were making it. unfortunately, it wasn’t helping that you seemed to be getting nicer over the course of the last couple of weeks. actually listening to her when she asked you to do something, making her favourite dessert while claiming you made “extras”, and things like coming in early and actually sleeping in the dorm.

“I hate changing these-” hanni grunted, the step stool underneath her wobbling slightly, “stupid batteries.” she glared up at the ceiling. “i can never reach the smoke alarm.”

“did it die?” you asked, yelling from your room.

“what do you think i'm changing the batteries for?” she deadpanned.

“i’m going to ignore what you said,” you made a face at her as you walked out of your room, obviously having just woken up from a nap. “just get down, i’ll do it.”

you walked up behind her, and held her waist, guiding her down the stool, reaching your hand out for the screwdriver and batteries. she blushed at the contact and coughed, handing them to you, her head moving upwards to watch you replace the device.

“sometimes i forget how short you really are,” you giggled as you stepped down from the stool, placing the tools in your hands on the kitchen counter.

“shut up,” she replied. her voice was still caught in her throat, the ghost of your hands still on her body.

you gave her a weird look at the sound of her voice before walking towards the fridge, opening it up and glancing over the limited options college students could afford. while you looked for something to eat, hanni stood still, watching your every move, thoughts invading her head.

you turned around to look at her, and cocked your head, your heart speeding up at the intense gaze she was staring at you with. it had taken you a while to realise you had slowly developed a crush on your roommate, and it took you an even longer time to confide about it with your friends. obviously they had teased you and laughed at you the first couple of days, but they had eventually decided to help you in the end–giving you tips on how to improve the strained friendship (if that's what you could call it) between you and the girl, and maybe get her to like you.

“why are you looking at me like that?” your voice came out quiet, and breathy, heat spreading up to your cheeks as hanni continued to stare straight at you.

“you’re actually kind of cute,”

the words came out mumbled, and even in the quiet of the room you couldn’t hear her.

“could you repeat that?”

“i said,” she started again, taking small steps towards you, cornering you in the kitchen,

“you’re actually kind of cute.” she ended, a smile on her face.

“thank you guys for inviting me tonight, but it’s getting pretty late so i think i’ll take my leave-”

minji would’ve been ecstatic if someone had told her in advance that she’d have to see her best friend and her best friend’s roommate kissing on the couch, and being a little too close for comfort. just so she could have mentally prepared a little bit.

“minji!” hanni screamed as she fell from the couch and onto the ground, and you pressed a hand to your mouth to conceal your laughter, your emotions thoroughly confused on if you should be embarrassed, horrified, or cackling.

“i knew this would happen!” minji yelled as she covered her eyes with one hand, and used the other to guide her way to the door. “i’m telling everyone!”

“did your friends bet on us?” you asked, your eyes widening at minji's words. your emotions finally deciding to land on mortified.

“well, it wasn't necessarily a bet per say-”

“you are so annoying!”

A/N : i'm not necessarily back, but i just wanted to get something out because i have been struggling through writer's block. everything is just kicking me down rn so if i go MIA again don't be surprised. 😭

anyways, hope you enjoyed this!

#hanglimi #kpop gg #kpop x reader #newjeans x reader #hanni x reader #hanni pham #hanni imagines #newjeans imagines #kpop fanfics

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shaunamilfman · 3 days

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it's just indifference

pairing: shauna shipman x reader summary: You couldn't bite back your bitchy comment as Shauna walked in twenty minutes later than you agreed upon to work on your project, but you soon found that you couldn't regret it at all as you realized how hot she was when she was mad. Especially when it makes her stare you down as she climbs into your lap. note: smut if it isn't obvious.

Had Shauna shown up on time, this never would have happened. But she was, in fact, twenty minutes late, and you couldn’t resist the urge to let out an irritated sigh as she walked into your room. She stops in the doorway, her hand clenched tightly around your door knob before she lets out a deep breath and closes it behind her. The door clicks shut gentler than you thought her capable of as she starts rifling through her bag for her notebooks.

“Practice ran late,” she says stiffly, a noticeable lack of apology as she collapses into your desk chair.

You weren’t planning on purposely pissing her off, but you quickly realized how hot she was as silently raged in the corner of your room. You were almost amazed at how quickly it happened, how quick she was to anger. It must’ve been something at practice, or on the drive to whatever friend she had to drop off.

It’s why the two of you ended up at your house instead of the library, as you only lived a few streets down. You certainly weren’t complaining. It saved you the hours you would’ve spent fucking around in the library till she got out of practice.

“Yeah, I guess when that’s all you have going for you, it must take priority.”

Her hand slams down on the desk with enough force that it shakes against the wall. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug leisurely, sitting up on your bed to get a better look at her. “Nothing.”

“No, obviously, you have something you want to say. Go ahead,” she says, leaning towards you, not the slightest bit self-conscious of the way it gives you a clear view down her shirt. Her eyes widen with realization as she catches your eyes flicking downward, her expression turning smug at the sign of interest.

“I guess I’m just tired of having to do all the work because some idiot jock wants to chase a ball around a field all day.”

“I’m not stupid.” She crosses her arms over her chest, her foot tapping impatiently against the ground.

Thinking Shauna was stupid was far from the truth– you were actually quite relieved when you realized you’d been paired together, knowing from personal experience just how smart she was. You’d caught sight of her last English test grade, after all. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen her get her test handed back face down, so you figured she had to be pretty intelligent. Still, it seemed like a quick way to piss her off.

“Is that right?” You ask, feigning disinterest. “Guess I’m just not a fan of your type, then.”

“Not a fan of me, you mean. Whatever. You’re not the first person to assume that all I can do is look pretty and kick a ball.” She scowls.

You laugh, laying back against the bed. “I never said you were pretty.”

“Oh? So you’ve got jokes now, huh?”

“Why? You too sensitive for them?”

She stiffens at that, her brown eyes flashing with annoyance as she stares down at her notes like her life depended on it.

“Is that what you think?” She asks, her body tensing as she tries to bite back a harsh retort. Instead, she sighs out slowly, silently trying to get a handle on her rage as she clenches her pencil tight enough that her hand shakes with the effort. You watch as her knuckles whiten, a harsh set of her jaw that makes you want to push against that fragile sense of control until she snaps.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “Do you need me to use smaller words?”

That’s it. Her pencil snaps, her notes scattering to the floor as she stands up. She marches toward you, each step heavy and filled with intent. You prop yourself lazily on your elbows as she approaches, standing at the foot of the bed as she shakes beneath the weight of her rage.

“Mm. You don’t like me,” she starts, the bed sinking beneath her as she crawls toward you. You gasp sharply as one of her knees comes to rest against your hip, and then soon the other, straddling you on her knees.

“But you want me.”

Your hands come up to rest on her hips, a movement so unconscious that you don’t even realize till you feel the warmth of her against your palms even through her shorts. She smirks down at you, her gaze almost predatory as she takes in the sight of you.

“You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?” You ask, lamely. It’s not your best response by miles, but you’re far too focused on not embarrassing yourself further as she sinks down in your lap.

You inhale sharply at the sudden weight resting against you, a reaction that clearly delights Shauna as she grips a fist full of your shirt between her fingers.

She laughs, quiet and far too knowing as she slowly rocks her hips forward. The bed creaks with each powerful roll of her hips, the muscles in her thighs flexing distractingly all the while. You’re so distracted, in fact, that you don’t realize her hand has moved until it’s gripping your chin. Her thumb digs painfully into your jaw as she forces you to look at her.

“Just highly enough, I think.” Shauna’s voice lowers into a whisper as she leans closer, turning your head to mouth at your neck. “Don’t act like you don’t like it. I’m pretty perceptive, you know.”

She pulls back, leaving you to chase after her lips before you get ahold of yourself.

“Perceptive, huh?” you ask, running your hands up her sides as you lift her shirt up. Your fingers rest just under her bra, your thumbs just grazing her chest as you watch the intoxicating way she moves. You can’t tear your eyes away from the way her muscles tense, following her as she moves. She hums, leaning forward to show off as she enjoys how blatantly you were staring at her.

“What am I thinking right now?”

“If I answer that, you’ll just deny it.” She moans as she hits just the right angle, her hips stuttering for a moment before she recovers.

“Try it?”

“You’re thinking about how good I feel on your lap,” she tries, keeping a steady rhythm as she lets you pull her shirt off and over her head. You go straight for her arms, squeezing her biceps happily as you test their firmness. You can’t help but grin: she’s just as strong as you imagined she was.

Her breath hitches as your fingers graze her stomach, blushing prettily as she catches you staring at her chest. “And,” she continues, grabbing at your wrists as she pins them down. “You’re thinking you’d like to know how strong I am.”

“Wrong,” you murmur.

She laughs, a dry mocking sound that sends shivers down your spine. Her hands move from your wrists to rest on your stomach as she rests her weight on you, a grounding pressure that keeps all your attention on her as she pushes you down into the bed.

“Yeah?” she asks breathily, clenching the fabric of your shirt between her fingers and watching as it exposes the skin of your stomach.

“Thinking about how much I'd rather be doing our English project.”

She snorts, a dorky laugh escaping that clearly embarrasses her as her hips still. She looks away, hiding the flush of her face as she stares daggers at the sheets.

“No,” you say, amused. “Keep going. I like the whole thing you have going on.”

“That right?”

“Yeah, it's working for you. You look hot.”

“Hotter than Jackie?” She asks.

“Who?”

Her expression is unreadable, a dozen different emotions crossing her face before she finally settles on one you've never seen from her: hunger. She surges forward, capturing your lips in a messy kiss as she roughly grinds down against your lap.

You gasp, digging your fingers into her hips as you pull her harder against you. She moans against your skin, sucking a mark into the line of your jaw as her nails drag across your stomach. Her body’s warm where it's pressed against you, nearly chest-to-chest as she takes what she needs from you.

Her back arches as you blindly reach between your bodies, fingers teasing at the waistband of her shorts as your fingertips just barely slip beneath them. “You’re so annoying,” she murmurs, her breath hot against your skin as her teeth graze delicately along the skin beneath your jaw.

“God…” she pants, her face buried into your neck as she lets out a whine. Her jaws a little slack, lips parted as quiet sounds are forced out of her.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmur idly, your thumb rubbing across the button of her pants.

“Shut up.” She huffs. “You're so stupid.”

You nod, stupidly, eager to please as your fingers make light work of opening up her shorts. She sighs as the button comes undone, the cool air rushing against her warm skin. She only gets more eager as your fingers slowly pull down the zipper, letting out a breathless laugh against your skin.

She shudders against you as the palm of your hand presses against her stomach, your fingers nearly dipping into her underwear, but not quite.

“Stupid,” she mumbles against your skin. Shauna’s trying to come off as annoyed, but her voice is too breathy and shaky to be effective. “Stupid and dumb and…” She trails off, her body jolting as your hand sneaks beneath the denim.

“And?” You prompt, palming her warm skin through the fabric of her panties.

“Don’t–” Her words cut off with a sharp gasp, her teeth sinking into your skin as she struggles between pushing up against your hand or pressing down against your lap, lost in her need for some kind of friction.

“I hate you,” she says, fingers clutching at your shirt as if to pull you closer. Despite her complaints, she makes no effort to remove your hand from her shorts, shifting on top of you to spread her knees wider. Her voice is strangled as she pants against your throat, shuddering against a particularly clever brush of your fingers—she's so wound up and it's making her desperate.

“You’re kind of mean,” you comment, pressing your palm against her clit as you slip a finger inside her. Her thighs squeeze tightly around your hips, her knees digging into your sides as she stares down at you. Her eyes are slightly unfocused, her teeth digging into her lip to keep herself quiet.

She props herself up on her arms, hands resting on either side of your head as her hair brushes against your face. Shauna uses the position to her advantage, rolling her hips into your hand as she uses her leverage.

“You deserve it,” she huffs, trying to glare at you but ending up moaning as your fingers keep their pace. Her thighs jerk, hips rolling in desperate circles as you coax the pleasure out of her with each torturously slow thrust. She’s wound up so tight she can barely stand it.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” Shauna breaks off into a moan, her fingers digging painfully into your shoulder in retaliation.

She’s arching into your hand, her body trembling with each gasp that escapes her. Shauna’s pissed, and more than a little humiliated to find herself so quickly at your mercy. It’s clear that this wasn’t how she saw this whole night going. She can’t help the roll of her hips against your hand, forcing you deeper as she practically rides your finger. “Give me another one,” she demands.

“Would it kill you to be nicer?” You mutter, slipping another finger inside of her with little complaint. She cries out, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face at how sensitive she is.

“Would it kill you to stop– to stop talking?”

You groan, one hand fisting in her hair as you pull her neck close enough to reach with your mouth. Shauna moans at the flash of pain, and whether it was the hand pulling her hair or the feeling of your teeth sinking into her neck that made her eyes slam shut as she cries out and buries her face into your shoulder, you’ll never know.

“Did you just–”

She slaps a hand over your mouth, embarrassed and shy all of the sudden as she lazily rocks into your hand.

“No,” she hisses, shaking her head even her face flushes a deep red. Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, a distracting motion that makes your view down her bra all that more enticing. Her thighs tremble around you, telling enough that even she starts to realize how stupid she looks denying it.

She nearly whimpers as you give her hair a little tug, her hips twitching as she bites her lip to stifle the noise. Shauna’s so sensitive in the aftermath, but she can’t seem to fully pull herself away from you.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare say anything,” she warns.

She pulls her hand away with a gasp as you bite at her fingers, examining them closely as she sits up on your hips. Shauna still can't meet your eye, steadfastly refusing to acknowledge the hand you still have shoved in her pants as she pretends to look at literally anything else in your room.

“It's okay,” you start, a mocking press of your palm against her that has her grinding on your hand again. “I heard finishing too soon–”

“You're the worst,” she manages through gritted teeth, her jaw clenched as she finally manages to look you in the eye. Despite her complaints she's still moving steadily against your hand, the rock of her hips putting your wrist in an uncomfortable position now that she's sitting up.

She opens her mouth, presumably to complain as you pull your hand away, but she shuts up just as quickly as your fingers curl around her chin. Her eyes flick down at your hand, your wet fingers leaving streaks against her face where you hold her.

You watch as her mouth parts, licking her lips before reaching for your hand. She watches you closely as she slowly takes your fingertip into her mouth, her tongue darting out to lap at the web of your fingers before she moves onto the next. She’s almost methodical in her movements, actions perfectly designed to drive you crazy.

God, she was just something else.

“You know what I’m thinking about now?” You ask, unable to take your eyes off of her for even a second.

She hums around your fingers in lieu of an answer, the vibrations making your breath hitch as you stutter over a reply. “Thinking about how good you’d look underneath me.”

Shauna can't speak with your fingers in her mouth and instead lets out a low whine as she sucks on them, tongue swirling around them as she turns her attention to your last finger.

Shauna pulls your fingers out with a wet pop, holding on to your wrist as she drags your spit soaked fingers across your face. You wrinkle your nose as you squirm away from it, but she only delights in your reaction. “That’s for pissing me off,” she mutters, just low enough that you weren’t sure whether it was meant for you or not.

“You don’t think I look good on top of you?” she continues, leaning back on her knees as her fingers play with the waistband of her panties. You watch as her fingertips just barely slides beneath, ensuring she has your attention before the rest of her hand disappears into her panties.

It's too much for her, you can tell. She's so sensitive that she can barely take it, but she stubbornly refuses to stop. The expression on her face verges on pained, a choked noise leaving her lips as her hips jerk clumsily against her hand.

She's battling the urge to keep her eyes focused on you, just barely starting to slip shut before she catches herself. “Fucker,” she grumbles, enjoying your attention despite herself. You run your hands up her thighs, scratching your nails down the length of them as Shauna squirms on top of you.

The muscles in her thighs tremble from the effort after spending so long riding you, on top of the time she's spent practicing. You're impressed she's managed it this long. You can't even imagine how sore she must be. It makes you wonder how long she could go at the top of her game, how long she could–

“Hey,” she whines. “Pay attention. Do you have something better to do?” Shauna can barely find the strength to ride her hand anymore, settling for a slow grind as the sweat drips down her face. Her head is thrown back as she finally lets her eyes closed, exposing the delicate arch of her neck and the beginnings of a dark bruise you'd sucked into her neck.

You can't take it anymore, reaching up and pulling her down to meet your lips before flipping her on her back. Shauna grunts in surprise, squirming beneath you as she pulls her hand out of her shorts. She tugs at the back of your shirt, pulling it over your head and making you flail around like an idiot as she gets it stuck on your arms.

You throw it to the floor with a huff as you finally manage to untangle yourself from it, glaring down at her as she grins from ear-to-ear.

With her back pressed up against the bed, she looks a little more disheveled than before: her hair messy as it spreads around her head, her face flushed with heat as she gives you a familiar smirk.

Shauna laughs, wrapping her legs around your waist and pulling you closer, forcing you down on top of her. She looks so smug, so pleased with herself that all you want to do is wipe that cocky look from her face. You push up on your knees, ignoring her complaint as you trail kisses down her neck.

You can't resist mouthing at her chest through her bra, pulling away with a teasing nip that has her pulling at your hair as you move to kiss your way down her stomach. You sit back on your knees as you get to her shorts, fingers curling around the waist as you start to work them down her legs.

Shauna's all too eager to assist, planting her feet and arching her hips off the bed as you pull her shorts down her legs. She makes a pleased noise as you press a kiss against her knee, hooking her other leg over your shoulder and she spreads her knees wider.

The sound she makes as your lips graze her inner thigh is nothing short of obscene, her hand grabbing at head on nothing but pure reflex.

Her eyes slam shut in embarrassment as she realizes just how needy she sounds. “You–You're so– God. Just eat me.” She pulls painfully against your hair, clearly trying to save face, but no one has to tell you twice.

You're eager to finally get a taste, having wanted nothing more than to bury your face in her pussy for most of the night. She cries out at the first touch of your tongue, so sensitive and so worked up that it's clearly all she can do not to come right then.

Shauna huffs out a laugh as you squeeze her thigh, lazily moving into your mouth in a sign of encouragement. Reassured, you turn your attention back to her clit, giving it as much attention as she can bear.

She swats your hand away as you tentatively trail it up her thigh, keeping your head in place as she pulls you just where she wants you. Shauna gets so eager that you have to pin her hips down, bucking into your mouth as you start to suck and then–

“Fuck,” she calls out, a high and needy cry that you know she'll deny making when she has the ability to. Her thighs shake uncontrollably on your shoulders, breathing heavily as she comes down.

“I'm tired,” she whines, trying to arch away into the bed. You rub the outside of her thigh comfortingly, tentatively licking into her as she relaxes.

“Stop. Stop,” she pants, her foot pressing into your side. “I can barely think.”

“What's a jock need to think for, huh?” You ask, pulling your mouth away from her as you stare up at her from between her thighs. You glance down meaningfully before meeting Shauna's eyes again in a silent question. She seems to honestly consider it for a second before shaking her head, pushing weakly at your face as she lets her legs fall open.

“You're such a distraction,” she complains, her eyes narrowing on the way your face glistens before forcing herself to look away. “We were supposed to be working on the project, idiot.”

“Finished it before you got here,” you say, flopping down next to her as you stretch out. She turns on her side to face you, her eyes narrowed as she tries to find something else to complain about.

Finally, after a long minute of contemplation. “You seriously took all my clothes off but my bra?”

You snicker, one arm resting across your eyes as you block out the light. Shauna huffs, hesitantly scooting closer to rest her head on your chest.

She trails her hand down your stomach, scratching lightly at the skin. “When I can think again,” Shauna warns playfully, lazily snapping the waistband of your underwear against your skin.

#minors dni #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 2 days

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Imagine meeting Rob Lucci again on Egghead Island

Warning: Contains spoilers! If you aren't caught up in the Egghead arc and don't want spoilers, don't read.

Rob: [tied up and unconscious on the floor of Vegapunk's lab]

You: [glaring at him from the other side of the room]

Stussy: Oh my, that's quite a scary look. It's almost like you know him.

You: I do know him, or at least I thought I did... A little over two years ago I lived on Water 7 where I worked for an engineering firm, and had a life, and a boyfriend.

Stussy: {looks shocked and points at Rob] Was he your boyfriend?

You: Yup, but I got transferred here shortly before he tried to kill Iceberg, who is my adoptive father. We used to exchange letters, and then one day they just stopped, and then three weeks later I got a letter from Iceberg that explained everything.

Stussy: That must have come as quite a shock.

Kaku: [wakes up] what the? [looks around, before cringing away when he notices you] oh dear.

You: [glares] Is that all you have to say to me?

Kaku: Listen, it was just a job, it wasn't personal.

You: Really? Because trying to murder members of my family feels really personal to me, buddy.

Kaku: [Nods to Robin] Technically, she shot Iceberg.

Robin: I shot him the first time, and I didn't feel I had another choice because you were threatening my friends and I didn't know what to do.

You: The second time was Blueno, and then you and Rob beat Paulie, and then left both Iceburg and Paulie tied up inside a burning building!

Kaku: we did do that, didn't we...

You: not to mention Rob played with my feelings by pretending to be a loving boyfriend.

Kaku: I swear that wasn't pretended Lucci really does love~

Rob: That's enough, Kaku.

You: You can talk! Why am I surprised, everything was a lie, wasn't it?

Rob: .... not everything [looks up at you, clearly pouting that he's being admonished]

You: I don't believe you.

Rob: ... can we discuss this in private, please?

You: no, we can't, I do not want to be alone with the World Noble's attack dog.

Rob: I'm a cat.

You: Excuse me?

Rob: I am a Zoan-type devil fruit user, the Neko Neko no Mi, Model: Leopard, specifically.

You: I don't care, because then you're just plain bad at being a cat.

Rob: Bad at being a cat!

You: yes, because if you knew a damn thing about cats, then you'd know you don't ever actually own a cat, you just live with one. They don't listen, they don't obey, and they most certainly don't respect you. So, I suppose, you were good at being a cat when it came to me, but bad when it comes to the world nobles.

Rob: That's not true...

You: save it, I don't want to hear your excuses.

Rob: [Takes a deep breath] They're not excuses, it's true I got close to you in the first place because of Iceberg, but I grew genuine feelings for you once I got to know you. I know I hurt you, it's why I stopped writing you after what happened in Water 7.

Nami: And because his ego was bruised because our captain whooped his ass.

Kaku: He was also in a coma for like a week afterward.

Rob: I figured by then you would have already had word from Water 7 of what happened, so I didn't want to rub salt into the wounds by trying to stay in your life, and that a clean cut was best for you.

You: [remembering that Iceberg had said he wouldn't be upset with you if you elected to stay with Rob] ... Where is Hattori?

Rob: what?

You: Where is Hattori?

Rob: He flew away when Stussy attacked.

You: I'll go get him...

Rob: [smirks[ thank you, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you again. Although he might not recognize you, you've glowed up since your Water 7 days. [winks]

You: [rolls your eyes] I know single life suits me, so save your smooth talk tough guy, it doesn't work on me [lying].

Rob: uh huh

You: [feels your cheeks heat up as your heart flutters, and you avoid eye contact with Lucci] Whatever, I'll go look for your bloody bird.

Rob: [eagerly watches the door slide shut behind you] It's still there

Stussy: What's still there?

Rob: I believe most people call it, "a spark between us'.

Nami: [dramatically gags]

Kaku: Dude, they always liked Hattori more than you, don't go getting a head of yourself.

Rob: [kicks him] zip it.

Stussy: [sighs] men are so stupid.

Robin: [nods in agreement]

Shaka: [judges in silence]

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eightyonekilograms · 23 hours

Text

To my horror I’m realizing that American strip mall retail zoning actually does pair quite well with EV fast charging infrastructure, so the fact that they are putting a lot of these fast chargers in mall parking lots is a great fit.

It generally takes 5-10 minutes to fast-charge to “enough to get you home” levels, 10-20 minutes to “that plus buffer”, or 30 minutes to “continue the next 300 mile leg of the road trip”, which actually fits perfectly with mall-style zoning: you can either get fast food and/or do some small amount of “oh, I needed this one particular item” shopping, and there will probably be the necessary store close by.

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keilanana · 15 hours

Text

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆

ɪɪ. sᴛᴜᴅʏɪɴɢ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢʟʏ (ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ)

You vs. Your VERY EASILY Distracted Brain (feat. Mother being a schemer, because why wouldn't she be.)

The moment you're old enough, you basically dive head first into every Greek and Roman book you can find, whether it be on mythology or mystery.

For every chance you get when your parents decide to pay a visit to the library, you scrounge the shelves for anything you might have missed, and the moment your [E/c] eyes lock onto something that could have valuable information, it's free game and you're already dragging Mum over to the front desk.

Your moms are, understandably, a little concerned over your sudden obsession for almost anything Greek or Roman, but your Mother likes to soothe her wife's (and her own) worries by saying that maybe Willow's stories had more of an affect on you than they thought they would. It doesn't really do a lot to reassure your Mum, nor even Mother, to be frank, but your nose is usually stuck too far up in a book to care.

Of course, you don't like making your guardians worry, but your guilt over seeing their concerned gazes is unfortunately not enough to make you slow down—which is admittedly a bit of a surprise to you, as none of your teachers from your previous life could hardly ever get you to pick up their required text books of your own violation.

Oh, if only they could see you now. They'd probably think it was either a miracle or you'd gone insane (you have).

But then again, it's not like you were trying to be difficult on purpose or anything, back then; you'd just found it hard to really pay attention to anything those old school books were saying because they couldn't really ... connect with you, if that makes any sort of sense.

(Actually, does anything about this whole scenario make any sort of sense? It may have been years—eight years, to be exact—since you've accepted your new circumstances, but would you really be surprised if you just woke up in a hospital one day and were told you'd been in a coma for a while?

... Yes, actually. And maybe a little disappointed, too, but only just a little.)

And you know, now that you think about it, you also lacked a lot of motivation to put any effort into studying, no matter how important it was. Maybe your past teachers should've told you that you'd start getting hunted down by monsters at a certain age. That probably would've been enough to make you wanna put more effort into their classes.

(That is a complete lie you would have laughed in their faces at the absurdity alone.)

Now that you are quite literally in the world of Percy Jackson (holy shit you still have to take a moment to think about this sometimes), though, the threat of monsters is an absolute guarantee, and you are not about to risk dying a second time.

So, for the first (and ONLY) time in both of your lives, you're willingly buckling down and genuinely trying to absorb as much information as you can. It is a process of trial and error, as you're pretty easily distracted, but your life is actually at risk even more so in this world than your old one, and you'd feel bad if you had to rely on your parents to protect you forever.

"This is getting ridiculous," Mum says on the day she finally gives into Mother's suggestion of buying you a bookshelf for your research.

You ignore the exasperation in her voice, naturally, and continue sliding all of the books you've collected over the years into your newly acquired piece of furniture, with Mother at your side and giggling at the look of genuine disbelief her wife gives you while you work.

"Close your mouth, dear," Penelope says, voice teasing and eyes tinkling playfully as she sends her lover a grin. "You'll catch flies."

Willow huffs and crosses her arms with a small roll of her eyes, but she still closes her mouth as her wife told her to nonetheless.

Mother giggles again, and you don't need to turn around to see the way Mum's face starts cosplaying that of a tomato at the sound.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One year before your death, you played Undertale.

Such a fact may seem irrelevant, but that would only be true in literally any other world that didn't have monsters in it.

You see, when you were gifted the game for Christmas and played it about three weeks later on your Switch, you played the Pacifist route first.

And then you didn't bother with the other two routes afterwards, because you decided to watch a Genocide playthrough beforehand. You didn't intend to finish it; you only wanted to get a feel for what the game would be like to prepare yourself before you actually played it on your own.

You got to Toriel's death, closed the video, and then cried into your pillow for the rest of the day.

Undertale made you sympathize with the monster, and this is how it affects your second go around:

When you read about Medusa, only a priestess with no where to run when Poseidon rises from the depths of his realm and offers his hand to her, and powerless when this act from her fellow God makes Athena's rage and curse Medusa into a monster for heroes to hunt with the promise of glory, you grip the book in your hands until your knuckles are white and feel your teeth grind together in a quiet anger.

Then you learn of Charybidis, unyielding in her loyalty to her father, even as he brings her into yet another petty feud between him and his brother, only for her to pay the price in having her body contorted and shaped into something indescribable and surely painful if it's sole purpose is meant to suck in as much water as possible and then spit it back out over and over again, you find yourself slamming the book shut and tossing it onto your bed to hit something.

And when you come upon the tale of the Minotaur, you finally give into the temptation and weep because you can't imagine being born into a world that calls you 'wrong' long before you even take your first breath. What was it like, you wonder, spending a childhood in a home that was never truly yours, where the denizens did nothing but look upon you with disdain and disgust. How old was he, you think, when the king deemed him a 'prize' and then threw him into a dark maze that only fed him when 'heroes' (not to him, never for him) sought out his blood?

Undertale made you sympathize with the monster, and you know, deep down, that that fact alone will one day cost you.

You just hope that it won't be anytime soon.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Your birthday's coming up, little love," Mother says as she runs her fingers through your hair. You hum in acknowledgement, too distracted by the book in your hands, and Penelope releases a sigh—an amused one, but still a sigh nonetheless.

"I bring this up," she begins, voice teasing as she abruptly boops your nose and makes you flinch back, blinking in surprise, "because I would like to know if there is anything else you'd like other than more books." She chuckles.

Still caught up in the suddenness of Mother's random assault on your face, you scrunch up your nose and lift your head up to meet her eyes, your brows furrowing.

"I ... don't know," you answer honestly. Then, with a small shrug of your shoulders, you add, "I don't think I really want anything else."

Mother hums, a thoughtful sound, but there's a familiar quirk at the corner of her lips and a twinkle in her [E/c] eyes that lets you know she's planning something, and it takes everything in you to stop yourself from gulping, because when Mother makes plans, she always pulls through—for better or worse.

Oh, God, you think, making sure to refer to Capital G God and not the Greek ones because you don't trust them. Maybe my birthday present can be skipping the day all together? Would that work?

(That was a rhetorical question; you knew it wouldn't, but it was nice to give into false hope every now and then.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(You have to stop lying to yourself: false hope only leads to more suffering.)

Mum has been acting strange.

You first notice only a couple days after your birthday conversation with Mother, around the middle of dinner. Granted, everything had been relatively normal at first—but those were the two, key words: at first.

Spaghetti and salad had been served that night, with you eagerly digging into your pasta and garlic bread while Mother ate next to you with far more grace; pretty normal, except for the fact that Mum—a far more messier eater than you—was taking bites of her salad slowly.

Maybe it was nothing. Mum could've just been feeling sick and didn't want to upset her stomach further, or maybe she was just tired.

But you saw the quick, repeated glances she kept sending her wife's way, and you knew at that moment that something was up.

The question was on what exactly that 'something' was.

You consider bringing it up to ask, but then figure out that if your parents had wanted you to know whatever secret they're pretending they don't have, they would've already told you.

So you watch, and then you bring out the last empty notepad you have to write your observations down, because your memory was apparently biased and seemed very picky on what you should and shouldn't remember.

(Unsurprisingly, this fact may be one of the key factors in you doing not so well in school, but. Anyway.)

- mum is hovering

It's the first thing you notice: Mum following Mother around like a lost puppy, eyes wide and begging, teeth sinking into her lower lip whenever Mother walks up and down the stairs and tries to do the basics of her everyday life. Months ago, Mum had no problem with Mother reaching for something on the top shelf, or crouching down to get something beneath the sink, but now the satyr looks like she's going to have a heart attack if Mother so much as leans down to get something from one of the bottom shelves of the fridge.

Watching it the first few times is kind of funny, honestly, because it's such a sudden switch up from Mum's usual confidence.

But then it lasts longer than two weeks, and that's when you begin to worry.

- mother appears to be sick???

It's the only explanation you could think of to understand Mum's constant hovering. That, and not long after you noticed Mum's constant trailing after her wife, you managed to clock in that Mother seemed rather ... fatigued, so to say.

Granted, it wasn't as noticeable as Mum's hovering, but it was still there in the way Mother would stumble backwards a little after reaching for something, or how—whenever she'd bring you outside to join Mum at the barn—she'd have to take a short break, sometimes even sitting down to catch her breath.

You'd fret, just a little, and ask if she was okay everytime, but she only smiled with that familiar twinkle in her eyes—so much brighter than your own despite being the same color—and nod her head, telling you not to worry and that she was fine.

Weirdly enough, it was only that look in her eyes that made you believe her—even if the concern still lingered in the back of your mind after she'd get back up, take your smaller hand into her own, and then lead you the rest of the way to your sun-kissed Mum.

- they both keep giving me these "subtle" (they really REALLY aren't) looks

You're more than used to your mothers sending you 'looks', whether they be warnings like, Hey, get away from that, it's dangerous or, What are you doing? and, most importantly of all, Wanna learn another way to mess with your mom?

Those looks are what you're most familiar with, naturally, so when your mothers start giving you ones you've never seen before, you take note of them in an instant, and now you're trying to decipher that in hopes you'll be able to decipher the layer above it and finally know what's got your Mum Mother Henning Mother and Mother sending you a look that borders on mischievous everytime you send her a suspicious look at the dinner table.

Not knowing, in truth, sometimes make you only a little uncomfortable. Not knowing when you feel like you should, though, is absolutely driving you insane because you can't help but feel like the answer is right there and yet you're missing it for some reason and—

Mother decides to drop the bomb right when your ninth birthday's over and you're all stuffed on cake.

"I'm pregnant," she says, shrugging like it's the most casual thing in the world and smiling because she knows she just tipped yours upside down. "You're going to be an older sibling, [Y/n]."

Mum chokes on her drink just as your jaw practically hits the table.

"I—" You blink, suddenly thinking back to everything you've jotted down in pursuit of learning your parents' secret, and then feel your face warm once you see the knowing look and amused smile on your Mother's face.

(Of course she knew.)

"... Okay," the word comes out in a croak.

Mother has the gall to snort.

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Tag List: @randomgurl2326 @jassy-teaa @thatbird-fromrio @tsukishiro-yue2402 @littlesliceofcheese @smartiepants217 @smuuchies @valiantparadisezombie @rairakkikoseao @lovelorngirl

#to defy fate #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #annabeth chase x reader #luke castellan x reader #thalia grace x reader #nico di angelo x reader #bianca di angelo x reader #will solace x reader #calypso x reader #jason grace x reader #piper mclean x reader #leo valdez x reader #hazel levesque x reader #frank zhang x reader #reyna ramirez arellano x reader

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dragonfly0808 · 20 hours

Note

Can you do a Winx headcanon post about how Winx characters little siblings feel about their older siblings partner[I don't know if I phrased that right]

Example :Riven's little sister, Sherly's feelings towards Riven's relationship with Musa.

ooooohhhhhh

Kay here goes (I’ll also do Zila and Thyler though they’re older siblings)

Chimera hasn’t gotten a lot of chances to interact with Brandon one on one, but she thinks he’s cool and is low-key jealous of how much he protects and respects Stella and how he always is right at her side and hyping her up. She wants someone like that. She’s probably the only sibling to straight up be like, I want a relationship like that, when looking at her big sister

Brandon’s sisters all adore Stella and very much already see her as a sister, Brandon jokes they’d totally chose Stella over him anytime, they are very close. Brandon’s sisters all think the world of Stella and have learned a lot from her in terms of how to dress and hairstyles

Helia won over Mielle by making her magic origami and volunteering as a human step stool, Mielle loves being carried around. Mielle is still quite little so as soon as she saw how happy Helia made Flora and how he was a potential human jungle gym, she was like, yeah that’s enough for me

Shirley was hesitant of Musa at first, mostly due to past experiences and not being very used to trusting people to begin with (not to mention Riven’s past… lack of judgement) but she was slowly won over before they ever got together just by watching them together and realizing that Musa in some ways was just as guarded as Riven and that the two are really two birds of a feather and that they did each other good

Naten ADORED Timmy from the moment they met and has made it very much known that he will not accept anyone else as a brother-in-law (he totally requested relationship updates anytime he talked to Tecna in s1 and 2). Timmy takes Naten seriously when he gets curious about how Specialist weapons works and lets himself get bullied into joining in on lightning farming and from that moment Naten was like; Tecna you are marrying him

Zila thinks Timmy is the cutest and finds his crush on Tecna just very endearing, she totally has a soft spot for him and sees him as a little brother, she’s rooting for them just in a more subtle way than Naten, she always makes sure to compliment him cause she knows he doesn’t always get the praise he deserves

Thyler doesn’t really have a relationship with Tecna at all. He absolutely did not get at all what Timmy saw in her at first and just thought she was weird and that she didn’t reciprocate Timmy’s feelings. He probably tried to dissuade Timmy from his feelings in s1 and the start of s2 cause he didn’t want his brother to end up heartbroken. But, after watching them and having Tecna join them for a few family dinners, he sees that the crush is actually reciprocated and eventually his mindset changes into a; yeah she’s weird, but my bro is weird too, if being weird together will make them happy then go for it. Their relationship is more like- causal and teasing than anything, but he approves and even encourages it now, especially after seeing just how much Timmy loves her in s3, he was turned into a full supporter, even if he doesn’t always get their relationship

^picture the Bridgertons watching Francesca and John in s3, that’s Timmy’s family watching those two. Their neurotypical asses don’t get it but they’re supportive (at least post-Omega debacle)

#winx club #winx rewrite #winx #winx headcannon #winx fanfic #winx headcanons #winx relationships #veiled wings and shattered panoramas

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lalal-99 · 10 hours

Text

of dirty cheats {h.j.} | track 6

©July 2023, June 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 5.8k

Synopsis: The one where you're hungover and visit home.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: Aaaand, I'm back! I'm sorry for the long wait, but if you've kept up with my life, there's been so many things going on... Anyway, this chapter concludes the overwork of previously posted chapters, and the next one will be brand new. I hope you enjoy this. If you do, please leave comments and reblogs. They always encourage me so much!!!

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You

You woke up the following day with the sun shining in your face and your head spinning.

Nausea overtook you within seconds, so you rushed one hand to your temple in an attempt to massage the pain away. It lifted some of the discomfort while also shielding your irises from the light, but it was hardly enough. Every effort to get up got cut short when you noticed Jisung’s arm snug around your waist, holding you close. It took you a couple of seconds to untangle one arm and reach for your alarm on the bedside table.

7 am. You shouldn’t have gone out yesterday.

Five more minutes of dozing and some careful wriggling later, you sat up, taking a moment to asses your state. The initial urge to throw up subsided once you came to a standing, although you still moved with care. It wouldn’t have been the first time, your initial assessment was completely off.

Your whole body was in a state of freezing, even once you had gotten dressed. Slipping yesterday’s clothes back on, you snatched one of your boyfriend’s hoodies, so you wouldn’t catch a cold on your way to your place. Also, your mini-skirt was too mini to be considered everyday attire. The length of the hoodie would shield most unwanted attention to your exposed legs.

Worry spread in your veins when you noticed Felix’s empty bed while gathering your belongings.

After the party Jisung and you had decided to sleep over at his place for convenience. It was distinctly closer, and you needed to get him into bed sooner rather than later. Which turned out to be tougher than expected. He had quite a lot to drink as the night progressed, so you stayed with him. Felix hadn’t made it home after your run-in in the bedroom back at the frat house, and his absence filled you with concern. He couldn’t have been avoiding you on purpose, could he?

“Baby?”

You turned to your hoarse boyfriend, whose eyes remained shut as he searched for your body next to him.

“I’m here. You alright?”

“I don’t know. Ask me in two hours when I’m all caught up on sleep.” After about 4 hours of actual rest, you weren’t doing much better than him on the tiredness scale. Still, you were up, and he— wasn’t.

“You’re not going to your class this morning?”

A sarcastic chuckle and Jisung rolled over, pulling the blanket deeper into his face.

“Can you close the blinds before you leave?”

You did so after slipping into your shoes. It annoyed you that Jisung was skipping class—this habit being one reason his grades had suffered back in High School. Yet, there was nothing you could truly do about it. He was in no state to tend to anything but his sleep deprivation, and you knew how he could get when overtired. After all, you were driving back home later today. You figured he would be less annoying once he had caught up on at least some of his sleep.

“I’ll be back at 10 to pick you up. Can you be ready by then?”

“Sure.” You knew there wouldn’t be a further answer, his mind already dozing off again. You left the room to be on time for your own morning lecture. One of you had to be responsible, after all.

The morning progressed so slowly, it was painful.

By the time you reached your class, you had somewhat woken up. A very intended goal, achieved by two double shots of espresso and a cold shower. Although your headache never truly left you, you made it through the first two hours of the day. Turned out, Jisung wasn’t the only one skipping morning classes today. About a third of the chairs in the lecture hall remained empty, thanks to Jackson and his gift of throwing amazing parties.

Unfortunately, that third also included Yuqi. Without her and her endless chatter about the latest trends or her latest crush, it was harder to stay awake. You must have dozed off half a dozen times, so you might as well have stayed in bed after all.

The anticipation of home was the one things that helped you power through. It had only been about two weeks since your move, though you already missed your family like crazy. This, by far, was the longest time you had been away from them. Ever. The thought of walking your hometown streets again was the light at the end of the tunnel— in this case Macroeconomics 101.

You must have mentioned your excitement about visiting home countless times to Jisung. So, why was it that when you reentered his dorm three hours after leaving, he hadn’t moved at all?

“Dang it, Jisung, you said you’d be ready by 10.”

“Why are you mad? I’m perfectly on time.”

“It’s 10:05, and you are still in bed. Unshowered.”

“I’m getting up already.” Your annoyance rubbed off on him, his tone raspy from alcohol, lack of sleep and irritation. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

Said panties, mind you, the same ones he couldn’t wait to get into the night before. He definitely hadn’t sounded so frustrated at you then.

You suppressed a scolding reply, aware of how it held power to start a full-on fight, making you even less on time. It took a lot of willpower to push the urge to confront your boyfriend about his choice of words down.

Stumbling out of bed, Jisung picked up some fresh clothes and his shower gel, before leaving with mumbled sounds of disapproval. A heavy reek of sleep and alcohol veiled the room despite the open window, so you moved closer to it. The nausea, yet again, vanished.

You ran your hand down your tired face, letting your bag fall onto his sheets.

“Is he always in a mood when he’s hungover?”

You sighed, “It’s really frustrating.”

Felix nodded, letting his phone fall onto his pillow. You could feel his eyes lingering on you, lip caught between his teeth and his leg bouncing, restless. It didn’t take more than a glimpse from your peripheral vision to identify his mood. Tired, nervous. Anxious. Of course, you knew what he was biting his tongue about. Remembering his shock and angst when you had walked in on him yesterday, it surprised you, he even spoke to you. And you were even more surprised when he was the first to mention it.

“Y/N?” You met his glances with a kind smile, leaning up against the wall. “I wanted to talk to you about something. About what happened— yesterday, actually.”

“You mean when I walked in on you?” His earrings dangled along to his nod. You swore you heard his heart pounding through his chest.

“I was wondering... If you— whether you saw—” He struggled to find the right words to voice his question before giving himself a push. “Exactly how much did you see?”

“Well,” you started, getting up and walking over to his bed to join him. Having this conversation with him called for physical proximity. “I saw you in bed. Naked, and with someone. With—” You cut yourself off, sending him a comforting smile. Felix’s face was about as white as fresh snow. By the time you ended your sentence, fear clouded his irises, “A boy.”

A tear slipped out of his eye and into his lap as he stared at his hands. He was avoiding your gaze, so you brought your hand to his back, rubbing him through his shirt. Hopefully consoling him. You could feel his shallow breaths become steadier, so your comfort must have worked in some ways.

It took him a few more deep breaths to speak up, your silence helping him voice his thoughts.

“I haven’t really told anyone. Ever.”

When he turned to face you, you saw a hint of dread in his eyes. As though he was expecting a negative reaction to his revelation. Or that you’d out him to everyone. Had it been anyone else, that assumption would have hurt you. Though you figured this reaction was only fair, coming from him. He barely knew you. He couldn’t have known how unreasonable his fear was.

“How long have you known?” you questioned, trying your best to not overstep the boundaries. To help him understand how you wouldn’t feel any different about him because of what you saw. What you now knew about him, as apparently the only person on earth. Well, apart from that guy he had been with the night prior. He must have figured from contextual clues.

“Honestly, I always sorta knew. But I only started accepting it a few months ago. I tried dating girls for years, but it never felt right. The guy from yesterday... He was kind of—” Felix stopped again, trying to find the right words. “He was my first guy.”

“Oh, honey!” You pulled him into your chest, your hands wrapping around his body. Felix soon hugged you back, holding on so tight your shirt wrinkled. As though he had needed this hug more than anything. It lasted for a couple of seconds, maybe even a minute, tears hitting your shoulder and drying on your shirt. “Thank you for telling me,” you mumbled against his skin. The burden of keeping his secret hidden fell from his shoulders with every tear.

“Thank you. For accepting me.”

“Of course.” As you drew away, he wiped the tears from his cheeks, eventually calming down. “And don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

“I appreciate that. I don’t think I’m ready yet. I should tell my family first, but I’m afraid they won’t take it as well. They don’t really— believe in this stuff.”

“Well, you can always come to me when you need someone to talk to.” You shared a moment of eye contact, smiling at each other. “Now to the important stuff. Who was the guy?”

Chuckling at your question, Felix took a tissue from his nightstand, blowing his nose. When he met your gaze, you saw a spark behind the watery curtains. “It’s this guy from my Psychology class. We never talked before yesterday. But then we shared a moment and somehow— I don’t even know how, but one thing led to another. Kinda like in the movies.”

“Damn, that sounds like straight from Hollywood. Was he any good?” Judging from Felix’s suggestive expression, eyebrows raising and eyes gleaming, you could tell his answer. “I take that as a yes. Well, I’m very happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

You wouldn’t have minded some further details on last night. Whether Felix would be seeing the guy again outside of classes. Or whether he even wanted to or rather explore his options, now that he had the opportunity. Felix, too, seemed eager to finally have someone to talk to about this.

It was the creak of the door thrown open that stopped your conversation. Jisung rushed in, hair wet from his shower, fresh clothes clinging to his moist skin.

When he noticed your proximity, Felix’s eyes reddened, Jisung’s eyebrow quirked. “Did I miss something?”

“Nothing,” you replied, sending Felix a wink as you rose from his bed. “Are you ready?”

“Two more minutes. I need to pack some things.”

“Are you kidding me? I told you to pack your stuff two days ago.”

And just like that, your mood suffered another hit, although you tried to not let it affect you too much. When Jisung started throwing random items onto his bed, you sent Felix a sarcastic eye-roll. He couldn’t help a relieved grin from spreading, the Mount-Rushmore sized rock finally lifted from his shoulders.

“Well, since you’re already pissed, I might as well tell you now.” What an awful way to start a sentence. “I’m not sober enough to drive yet. So, you’re gonna have to get us home.”

Not the easiest task with your brain still thumping against your skull, but at least Jisung could help you stay awake.

When you were younger, you used to be embarrassed by where you lived.

You had always felt bad for your privilege. Guilty even, seeing none of your friends lived a life close to the one you had. Most of your friends lived in small and run-down apartment-complexes, confined to little space and sometimes even sharing a bedroom with several siblings. Blame the recession that had taken its toll on their parent’s income.

It mostly seemed like they had made due with it, finding their content in it. It was still uncomfortable whenever you invited anyone over to your place.

You felt the worst about growing up rich when you met Jisung.

His dad had left the family when he was seven. His mother stranded alone in an apartment she couldn’t pay for and with two children she hardly had the money to feed.

She already worked one full-time job when his piece-of-shit father left. She needed to pick up another part-time one just so they could afford their most basic needs.

By age ten, Jisung supported his mother’s second job, cleaning the houses of the rich and wealthy on weekends. With his sister in a time-consuming gifted program—paid for by a scholarship—he had no other choice. Jisung needed to put his own interests behind if he wanted to keep the roof over their heads. Being the sweet son he was, he did exactly that. Without a single complaint about the afternoons his friends spent hanging out at the mall or enjoying their hobbies.

When you invited Jisung over the first time, your friendship only weeks old, you felt ashamed. He lost control over his facial muscles, his jaw slacking when he saw the entrance of your house. He almost passed out when you showed him your new Nintendo in your room. Jisung forgot all about the expensive gaming console once he realised you didn’t have to share it. Neither your toys nor your room, which already took up the space of his whole apartment. A Queen sized bed occupied the middle of your room, and still left enough room for a motherland of games.

It wasn’t until Jisung invited you to his apartment, that you fully understood his mesmerisation with the simplest things in your house. Like the fridge, which was taller and broader than the two of you combined. Or your couches—plural, not singular.

You tried hard not to let your pity show while meeting his mother and sister. You feared you’d say something to offend them, making them feel bad or appearing like a snob. Needless to say, you didn’t talk much that afternoon.

Jisung never once gave you any reason to feel any more guilty than you already did. He assured you time and time again that you had nothing to be ashamed of. You had your own hardships, your own problems. And his family was doing fine. He couldn’t remember a time not sharing all their meals at a tiny table or sleeping in the same room.

Nothing about that changed when you fell in love at 14, two years after meeting.

Still, that same guilt knocked down your self-esteem whenever you passed the mansions of your street in Jisung’s rusty, old car.

Your boyfriend had slept through the whole two-hour drive from campus to your home. It had annoyed you in the beginning as you had hoped to get some time to talk. As your carefully crafted playlist progressed, all annoyance faded into the air. Plus, speeding down highways and crawling through neighbouring villages made you nostalgic. By the time you arrived home, Jisung had caught up on his sleep and you were beaming in excitement.

Your dad was already waiting for you, ever so happily smiling as he hugged you.

“I’m happy you’re home,” he mumbled against you as he pulled you in. His statement wasn’t needed with how visibly content he was, having his only daughter and future son-in-law back.

“I’m glad to be back. I missed you.”

“We,” Jisung corrected, nodding to your dad. “We missed you.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re here. Brunch is ready as soon as you are.”

At the mention of food Jisung’s stomach rumbled, sending him into a laugh.

“He’s ready, too,” your boyfriend translated the sounds as you placed your bag beside the door.

The TV played in the living room, overshadowed by the juicer-sounds in the kitchen. The smell of fresh oranges filled your nostrils, your mouth watering as you stepped through the doorway.

“Is that orange juice I smell?”

“Y/N!” The young woman jogged around the island, pulling you into a bone-crashing hug. “I missed you!”

“I missed you, too, Jia.”

“What about me?” Jisung questioned, taking over your space once Jia let you out of your hug.

“I missed you too, but a little less.”

“Wow. Thanks, sis.”

“So, how’s university? Tell me everything.”

Jisung did. He told his sister all about his dorm, new friends and courses he visited. All the while, you only had one ear with them. The other was searching the attached dining and living area. Soon enough, your eyes joined as you wandered the lower floor of your house. You identified a pair of tiny dinosaur-themed socks discarded on the coffee table. The couch stood buried under plastic toys and books, a children’s show playing on the flatscreen.

When you found the rest of the room empty, you exited the living area altogether. As soon as you set foot into the hallway, you finally heard a familiar voice call out to you. Your head turned and you found a small figure running towards you. Quick reflexes came into play when he all but jumped into your arms, making your heart jump through your chest.

“Mama!” Tiny arms wrapped around your neck and tears immediately filled your eyes.

“Hi, baby.” His breath hit your neck as your heartbeat accelerated. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” he answered as you picked him up, giving him a small peck on his cheek.

“He couldn’t stop talking about seeing you again. He barely slept tonight.”

With your dad by your side and your baby in your arms, you reentered the kitchen. When he saw Jisung, your son’s eyes reshaped into hearts.

“Papa!” You couldn’t set him down quick enough before he began sprinting towards his father.

Jisung picked him up and spun him around once before hugging him tightly against himself. “Hi, Ki. You miss me?”

“Yes,” the boy agreed, his smile reaching from one ear to the other. Seeing him so joyful made your heart swell and you swiftly wiped your tears away. For the first time in two weeks, you felt at home.

“Should we eat?”

Your dad was already one step ahead, carrying the pan filled with pancakes from the stove to the table. Four sets of tableware were set up neatly as fresh-cut flowers decorated the scene. Food from all sectors of the food-pyramid occupied the dark wood, making your mouth water.

“Did you set the table, Dad?”

He laughed at your assumption, “I wish. It was this wonderful lady right here.” He pointed at Jia. “Remember, you can move in whenever.”

“You might say that now,” Jisung interrupted, taking the seat between Ki and his sister, “but wait ’til you actually live with her. She’s a slob. A big-brain slob, but a slob.”

“Says the boy who uses his dirty underwear as parquet flooring.”

Ki giggled at that mental image, munching away on the food his grandfather had set on his plate.

“We haven’t lived in the same room for 3 years. I’ve changed.”

“Y/N, back me up here.” You looked at Jia while filling the fresh orange juice into the glasses by everyone’s plate. “You’ve lived with him for the past 3 years. Does he still keep his dirty clothes anywhere but in the hamper?”

After he had moved from his childhood room into yours a few years back, you remembered this habit of his. Vividly. It had been the main reasons fights would break out between you. Other than the constant debate on how to raise a baby, of course. Over the years, it had gotten better; his clothes landed closer and closer to the laundry basket each week.

“He tries, but he never mastered reaching into the hamper. I don’t know how someone’s aim can be so off.”

Jia laughed, Ki joining in once he understood your words to be of the joking kind. He was at that age where he tried mimicking the people around him. That included emotional reactions from the ones closest to him. And to think you were missing this crucial part of his childhood.

“Complain as much as you want. Ever since we moved to campus, I’ve been very diligent about keeping things clean.” Your expression told him that you had seen his room and didn’t quite agree. “At least Felix never complains.”

“This Felix guy sounds like a catch.” That you couldn’t disagree with. “Glad you got a decent roommate.”

“He’s alright. Although—” Setting his fork and knife beside his plate, Jisung took a sip from his glass. “What were you two hugging about before? You seemed… close.”

There was no undertone to his question other than wanting to know the content of your talk. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Jisung was hinting at something.

“Nothing. Just small-talk.” Not a lie, but not the truth either. Though you figured a little white lie couldn’t hurt, knowing all it did was hide the secret Felix had shared with you. Jisung wouldn’t have judged Felix if you had told him, but you didn’t believe it was your right to out him. Especially after promising you wouldn’t tell anyone.

“Really? I could swear he was crying or something.”

“Oh, that? He was going through some personal things.” A little closer to the truth but still not revealing the whole story. Jisung seemed to believe you, and why wouldn’t he have? Had it been something that concerned your boyfriend, you would have told him. Didn’t have a reason not to. “Nothing to worry about, though.”

“Alright.” Your boyfriend picked his cutlery back up, slicing some of his son’s food for easier eating. “You’d tell me if it was serious, though. Right?”

“Of course,” you agreed as you beamed at your son. His mouth was stuck in a grin while he shoved spoons full of pancake into his mouth. “Everything’s alright.”

Brunch continued with little distraction. The topics reached from your future sister-in-law’s studies, which she was about to finish, to your son’s upcoming birthday. Still over a month away, but you could never start planning too early. It almost felt like you had never left. Your family, spending the late morning like you had any other weekend before moving to live on campus.

Your son’s lack of sleep showed right after he finished his plate. Despite his best efforts to keep himself awake, his eyes fell shut every few seconds. After missing you so much the past weeks, he wanted to spend any minute with his parents. It broke your heart. Of course, you knew it was better this way— staying close to campus and concentrating on your studies while your son stayed with your dad. Providing him the childhood he deserved. Still, it hurt you, knowing Ki missed you so much. Your own pain played a critical role in that feeling as well.

“I’ll take him to bed,” Jisung explained as he lifted his son from the high chair. Ki waved at you, already half asleep, as his father carried him out of the room.

Your dad had left a minute or two earlier, telling you about a discovery he had made while cleaning the attic. Thus, Jia and you were left to clean up the table, which you didn’t mind. It gave you a chance to catch up, something you had wanted the past few weeks but had never found the time for.

“So? How’s Uni for you? Did you make a ton of friends already?”

“I don’t know about a ton. But I did meet some people already,” you told her as you filled the sink with soap and water. “There’s this girl, Yuqi. She’s in my marketing classes, and she’s very nice. We get along great. And then, there’s Felix.”

“Sungie’s roommate?”

“Yes. He’s also very nice. I can see us becoming close.”

“That’s good. You never know when you’ll meet those people, but some of them will stick forever.” You nodded at her words, feeling like you had found two of these forever people in Yuqi and Felix. You had hardly met anyone you could open up to like you could to them, not even your High School friends. “How’s my baby bro doing on the friendship front? Is he adapting?”

“Surprisingly so. Jisung found a group of boys he’s been hanging out with. They seem cool; down to earth. They’re having a positive impact on him already.”

Had Jisung overheard your conversation, he would have most likely confronted you. Why would you talk about him behind his back like this? As though he was a social outcast you had to chaperone in his endeavours to make friends? However, he would have had to agree with you in the end.

Since you met him, Jisung hadn’t had the easiest time meeting new people. He was often awkward in social situations, and the lack of a filter caused him more problems than it fixed. You for one, loved him for it, as you always knew what was going on in his mind. Other people, not so much. In the past, Jisung had gotten himself in trouble due to saying the wrong things in tense situations. His social anxiety had only worsened the older he got. Having made friends already—without much effort—was a big deal.

Jia, being his older sister, knew about his issues.

“I’m glad he’s doing alright. It sounds harsh, but I wasn’t expecting him to make friends. Or worse.” She placed the dishes in the dishwasher as her eyes met yours. “He could have made the wrong friends.” You could tell where she was going with this. Her transition felt rather forced, but who could blame her? You, for one, had expected her to ask even earlier. “Speaking of—” And there it was. “Did you run into him already?”

Sighing at her words, you started scrubbing the pan below the soapy surface of the sink.

“We did.” Jia nodded, eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Seems like Jisung and him kept in contact. He invited us to this party at his fraternity yesterday.”

“So you talked to him?”

“Yup.” From her reaction you knew that she wasn’t satisfied with that. Jia was trying not to get too caught up in how you had talked to the one person she never wanted to think about again. After all, she couldn’t control who you ran into and chose to spend your time with. That went for both you and Jisung. Although, you were a bit more reserved about your relationship with the one who shan’t be named.

“I’ll regret asking later, but—” Again, you knew exactly what she was about to ask. “Did you meet— her?”

You placed the clean pan onto the rack to dry, taking off the cleaning gloves to hang them over the tap. You had thought a lot about how to approach this, but couldn’t come up with a painless explanation. So, the truth it was.

“I think so. I’m not 100 percent sure, but I believe she might be my roommate.”

A huff escaped Jia’s lips at the irony. “Of-fucking-course, she’s your roommate. And let me guess. She’s super nice and not at all a bitch who stole my boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t cheat on me and break my heart. That was all him.”

The glimmer of hurt in Jia’s eyes reminded you of that afternoon you found her crying on your doorstep. Her makeup smeared over her face and body trembling in your embrace. The pain wasn’t the same depth as three years ago, but you could tell it had left a scar. How couldn’t it have?

Jackson and Jia had been together for three years when she discovered his infidelity. There had been talks of marriage already, when he decided to throw it all out the window. And the worst thing, Jackson even tried to deny it when she confronted him. What he didn’t know was that Jia had seem them together. Two hours she had driven to campus to surprise him one weekend, and all to see him hugging and kissing some hot piece of ass. That’s how Jia had described her boyfriend’s affair after spotting them together. It had taken her around a minute to realise what was happening, then she up and left again.

A surprise phone call later that weekend Jackson answered with shock and denial. Not five minutes later, Jia decided she couldn’t hear it anymore. Like that, three years ended in what you could only describe as the second most heartbroken you had ever seen a person.

So, yes. The woman was still hurt. She was still in pain. Although that pain had morphed into hatred along the way.

“If it’s any comfort, she doesn’t seem to know you existed. And—” The next part was a shot in the dark. Hopefully, Jia would understand the humour in it all. “She started dating a woman immediately after Jackson. Said he made her realise she’d be better off without a man.”

That, Hwasa had told you in confidence. But seeing as it lightened the mood, you didn’t regret telling Jia. “Okay, that does make me feel better.” The atmosphere lightened up after that, though Jia needed to get one last thing off her mind. “But, you should keep track of that friendship between Jackson and Sungie.”

“You think?”

“Jackson himself might not be the problem. As hard as it is for me to say, he has a good heart. But that hardly goes for those friends of his. They’re some sketchy people.” Jia’s eyes showed honest concern. So much so that it worried you a little. “To this day, I believe he wouldn’t have done what he did, had his friends not had as much impact on him. They kept telling him he was too hot to let opportunities for hookups with random girls pass by. That our relationship was holding him back from reaching his full potential. And that’s a literal quote I overheard one of them telling him over the phone.”

“What? That’s crazy. Why did Jackson let them talk like this about you?”

“Who knows? But the matter of fact is that Jackson is a confident man. Always was. My brother, however...”

You understood she was hinting, again, at his social introversion.

“Since Dad left us, he’s been searching for a father figure in the older men around him. Do you remember that guy, Wonho, he hung out with in High School?”

“Do I? The dude was the personification of steroids.”

“Exactly. And Sungie had the biggest man crush on him. You do recall how that ended, right?”

“He broke his wrist trying to lift double his weight.”

“I love Sungie to the moon and back, but he has serious daddy issues. Not that it’s any his fault.” Jia had a point in everything she said. Even though you hoped Jisung couldn’t be manipulated, you understood it wasn’t impossible. “That Wonho-guy was his hero for months, and he wasn’t even trying to be. Imagine what could happen if some seriously sketchy guys meet him and see a trainable puppy.”

There was a moment of consideration as you imagined what Jia had described. Jackson and she had been happy before they went to university. Much like you and Jisung, they had been together a long time. Still, something inside you told you that Jisung wouldn’t hurt you like this. Jackson was a good guy, and they had been good together. But they also had their fair share of issues. Jisung and you, that was a whole other thing. You were soulmates. You had a son. Other than sweeping them under the rug, you talked about your relationship problems.

You wanted to voice those thoughts to Jia, but before you could do so, your dad and Jisung entered the room. Your dad carried a thick book, showing it to your boyfriend, who laughed at whatever he saw on the page.

“Baby, how were you so cute as a baby? I could eat you up.”

Your confusion resolved when your dad explained the situation. “I was showing an old photo album to Jisung. I found a stack of them in the attic.” Flipping the page, another chuckle escaped your dad’s lips. “Look! It’s you and your father. Gosh, I haven’t seen this picture in ages.”

At those words, a smile spread over your face as you made your way to his side of the book. And sure enough, there you were. Sitting in a flowerpot as your father held you up, smiling into the camera. The unfamiliar image warmed your heart, despite the tinge of sadness that appeared whenever you saw a picture of him.

“Your father was so handsome,” Jia said as she caught a glimpse.

“The most handsome,” your dad agreed, looking up from the page. “He did some modelling work while we attended law school and was good at it, too. Even made it into some magazines. He was so handsome even, it took me months to finally muster the courage and ask him out. And thank God, I did.” With those words, his eyes met you, still completely captured by the picture. “He would have been so proud of you, honey.”

A single tear rolled down your cheek as a smile plastered your face. Oh, what you’d give to have the chance and talk to him one last time. You would have told him so many things. Most importantly, you would have told him about the family you had found between all the grief and loss. The ones surrounding you, being the closest to you. And, of course, Ki. The love of your life.

No doubt, he would have loved your father as much as you did.

Next Chapter >>> coming soon

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scarfacemarston · 2 days

Note

I’m gonna need some nsfw Bucky headcanons please and thank you 🙏🏻

Ask and you shall receive! 18+ Only. This is GENDER NEUTRAL.

We all know he was good at wooing people, but he didn’t have as many sexual partners as people might have guessed. He would never brag about body count, but it was definitely a few. However, he was always open and clear when he was interested in fun or a fling and when he was interested in courting someone.

When he could finally make his own decisions regarding sex, he was cautious with who he chose to sleep with. It took a while until you came along. He didn’t quite view it as a second virginity. Part of him thought of hooking up, but his 1940s mannerisms didn’t feel right about it. He wanted someone to trust, and that would be you.

Was a bit anxious about revealing his body. He knows he’s handsome, but he’s afraid the scars would be too frightening, especially on his shoulder.

* He’s large but not intimidating. It’s just the right size. Enough to excite you- knowing you’ll be sore the next day, but not enough to worry about any pain.

He was a bit insecure about everything from foreplay to actual sex, but muscle memory popped in, and he was pleasantly surprised with his skills!

However, he loved discovering your body, mapping out every spot that would make you squirm, gasp, curse, or scream his name.

He never wants to hurt or frighten you, even if you request it. It would make him feel like a monster. He loves to slap that ass if you’re down with it, but he’s very reluctant to do anything like breath play. It brings back unpleasant memories. Knife or gunplay is an absolute no.

He is a total chest man. He just loves squeezing breasts and pecks. He loves to run his fingers on the side, causing you to shiver.

He has a bit of a weakness for nipple play on his partner. He secretly enjoys it on himself but is reluctant to admit it.

Loves oral -giving and receiving.

He’s reluctant to use his metal arm on you, but he wouldn’t sleep with you if he didn’t already trust you. He insists on setting boundaries, though.

Is a total gentleman and can be surprisingly sweet and romantic whispering the sweetest things in your ear….or he can be rough and almost desperate to get close to you, uttering the dirtiest dirty talk you’ve ever heard. In times like that, you forget he’s from the 40s.

Is usually quiet at first, but the stronger your relationship is, the more he lets himself go. He’ll grunt, growl, curse, moan, to almost babbling.

Aftercare is a must, especially after rough sex. He wants to check in on you, help wash you up, and cuddle….he’ll try his best to wait until you’re asleep before falling asleep, but sometimes, he’s so at peace that he falls asleep first.

#james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x gender neutral reader #bucky barnes x male reader #captain america #bucky barnes x female reader

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the-mandawhor1an · 3 days

Text

Just a scratch - Din Djarin x Reader drabble

Summary: Life as the assistant in a droid-operated doctor’s office isn't eventful. That is, unless a certain frequent visitor ends up in your capable hands again. This time he’s in for a bit more than just some bacta Warnings: 18+ content, MDNI! brief description of wounds, some Mando’a (translation at the end), no face reveal (sorry!), allusion to sexytime A/N: This was fun! This little drabble is for @janaispunk’s 1500 follower celebration. The prompt was “neck kisses” and our boy Din – I decided to play around with a younger Din and the prompt basically screamed for an inner conflict about his oath (His age isn't mentioned but in my head he's in his 20s here) Fun fact, the actual fic part is exactly 1500 words. Unbeta'd, be nice 🙏

It is a slow day today, boring even.

So boring that you decide to clean the reception, dust off the high-shine furniture while listening to the low hum of all the equipment in the adjacent room. Your name badge rustles with every swipe of your arm. The light above you flickers. It is late in the evening, close to the end of your shift.

To be quite frank, you like it like this.

Empty. Peaceful. Tranquil.

Working in a doctor’s office, you’re regularly presented with emergencies that drain your energy quickly. Yes, the actual healing is mostly done by droids, but you occasionally have to lend a hand. Some people don’t trust droids. Or they are scared so you end up taking care of them.

You understand to a degree. Sometimes the ‘doctor’ malfunctions and it’s your job to make sure it doesn’t harm the patients. And – because of your regular maintenance, you’d like to think – nothing has ever happened since you started your job here. Basically you are both a mechanic and the receptionist. And, well, the healer for certain patients that under no circumstance want a droid near them.

Such as the Mandalorian who has visited the office quite often now. In fact, you’re sure he deliberately stays close to the space port just to make sure he can see you when he is injured.

He never really talks much until you start your process. He likes to tell you about where his injuries come from. He’s a bounty hunter, that much you have figured out by yourself. Most of his wounds aren’t threatening to his health, scratches, bruises, an occasional concussion.

Today is no different. Just as you are about to take off your name tag, the door opens and he stumbles in. You’re familiar with the sound of his steps and take no time to get the med droid out of the exam room.

He plops down on the table and starts removing his cape.

“Well, what do we have this time?”

You don’t even need an answer. The hole ripped into the flight suit and the dark stain on his shoulder says enough. “Got bitten,” he states. With your head slightly tilted, you ask “You got bitten?” The helmet halts for a second, staring at you. He said what he said.

“May I?” you ask, offering a hand in taking off the metal plates that have to come off before you can tend to his wound. He nods and you carefully detach the shoulder plates. He hisses underneath the helmet. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. Placing the armor parts gently on the table next to him, you watch him take his gloves off. The gauntlets follow, as does the chest plate. His fingers feel for the closure of his vest. “Let me get some Bacta while you’re busy,” you stumble when you realize you’ve been staring at him for a while.

“I need you to take the shirt off as well…” you add as you’re already halfway in the storage to get equipment and hide your blushed cheeks. Technically there is enough Bacta in the exam room, but you know he needs privacy.

The topic of his creed has come up before – when you’ve been treating him for the first time. He had suffered a concussion and you wanted to check his head, but ultimately he refused and explained why. You didn’t understand then, you don’t now, but you don’t have to. You’re just here to make sure he isn’t dying, right?

When you return, he sits there in all his glory. Broad shoulders, a toned back, a slender waist and that damn helmet on his head. Tan, freckled skin and, rather pleasant to see, there’s no bruises on him this time. You’ve seen it all. The scars, bruises, new, old; scratches, cuts, blaster wounds. But a bite? That’s new.

With a hand on his wounded shoulder, you take out a small light to see if the wound shows any signs of infection. “I know we usually have a ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ agreement but I have to break that this time. How? And was that a bounty?” Again, he hisses as your fingers graze the skin, avoiding your touch by arching his back. “Yes,” he replies. What else would it have been, realistically? An animal? Not here. And certainly not with a bite wound up that high. Or this is a rather unfortunate bedroom accident.

You take the Bacta and spray it on the bite mark. It’s not too deep luckily. Neither has it hit any larger blood vessel nor are his precious muscles at risk. It probably hurts a lot, but he is used to pain. “Not a human, of course,” he says as the spray starts closing the little marks the teeth of the quarry have left in his flesh. With a damp wipe you wash away the blood on his shoulder, far enough away from the wound that he shouldn’t wince again. But he does. “Fierce warrior, huh? Is it that painful?” You half-mock, but your concern still audible underneath. This isn’t a wound that should hurt. Judging by his behavior, it’s uncomfortable.

“It’s not. It’s just … you” “Me?” You take a step back to look into that black visor. Sometimes you wonder how he looks like underneath it. If his face is as pretty as you’ve imagined. “I–” he stammers. “I’m not used to being touched. Not so close to the helmet.”

“Oh,” you let out. It’s not loud by any means but he’s close, so he hears it anyway. “Do you want to wipe your blood off of yourself?” You offer the cloth with an outreached arm. He hesitates, staring at the stained fabric you’re holding towards him. The pain in his shoulder slowly dissipates and the throbbing leaves. “N-no,” he finally says. His voice is low, breathy. You can clearly see that his breathing is more labored. Is he anxious?

The hand with the rag slowly retreats and you take a moment to process what he says. “Do you want me to–” He nods, so you continue wiping away the blood. The holes in his skin have closed up and now only a set of pink little spots remains. His blood has traveled far down his back and you gulp before slowly moving down with your hand. His skin is warm and you can’t deny that there is suddenly a weird tension between you two. He sits here, watching you touch his exposed skin. You’ve done it before but never so close to his neck. Is he sensitive? As the side of your hand brushes against his neck, he flinches. You do it again and the helmet turns to face you. For a few seconds you stare at each other.

You’re standing in between his knees, a respectful distance between your bodies otherwise. “I would’ve never guessed that,” you take your unoccupied hand and let your fingertips wander over the other side of his neck. He shivers and exhales sharply.

He leans into your touch. The beat of his heart is visible, a vein pulsing underneath your index. “Don’t,” he hushes. Don’t what?

You halt the movement of both of your hands. He hesitantly extends one arm and rests his hand on your waist. First you expect him to push you away, but rather than that – he pulls you closer. He straightens his back until you’re almost eye to eye. You know he’s broad, but being so close to him made that abundantly clear.

“Don’t stop,” he pleas. The softness in his voice could melt your heart. The cloth falls onto the table behind him, squelching upon impact with the cold metal surface. Both your hands rest on his skin, drawing small circles on his neck.

“Can I take that as confirmation you’ve been staying close on purpose?” Again, he nods. “I hope you’re not getting injured on purpose though,” you say with a smirk. A single chuckle emits from underneath the helmet. “I’m not, not any more at least.” you shake your head in amusement. “Could’ve just said something. Ask me out or something.” “And what would we do? I can’t take that helmet off.”

I have an idea.

Leaning forward, you stroke over his shoulders and down his arms, making way for your lips to brush his shoulder. “Osik,” he curses under his breath. You’ve heard him curse in Mando’a before so your smirk just grows. Your lips travel up his shoulder, until they finally reach his neck. “I mean,” you talk in between kisses, feeling him melt against your chest. “I know something we could do that doesn’t necessarily need the helmet to come off.” On your life, you swear you hear him whimper. The battle-hardened Mandalorian whimpers. Because you offer what he probably has been waiting for for a while now.

“Would you like that?” You tease. His hand travels down your waist. As it ends by your hip, his second hand joins. “Yeah.”

_________________________

Osik – shit

#1500 kisses challenge #janaispunk #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #star wars #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #wolke schreibt

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batsplat · 10 hours

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as our resident Casey expert i wonder what do you think would have happened if marc and casey competed against each other? since casey retiring is so important for marc coming into motogp im always thinking abt the what ifs...

my initial instinct with this hypothetical is always 'that sounds horrible', though I do have more thoughts and opinions about it than that! marc obviously would have loved the chance to race casey, and casey has even been one of his picks of 'guys he would've liked to be teammates with' before, so, you know, clearly something there - and he does very much respect casey as a rider. I think it's quite likely that by the time marc entered the premier class, casey had already developed... I don't know if wariness is going too far, but maybe a little bit of unease or caution where marc was concerned. marc already very much had a reputation based on his 125/moto2 track record, and some of these incidents were controversial enough that the motogp riders commented on them. so take the phillip island 2011 incident where marc rode into the back of another rider:

the valentino quote serves as a bit of a benchmark here, given he was generally pretty pro-marc. yes, casey's phrasing is perhaps a little harsher, but unsurprisingly none of the riders were big fans of marc's behaviour in that particular incident

on the other hand, it's not like casey never sided with marc. take catalunya 2012, where marc was slapped with a controversial post-race penalty:

yes, casey's main complaint was about inconsistent stewarding - but still, he believed marc had been unfairly treated here. feels like these incidents were some of the only things casey and valentino actually agreed on in those years, so that's nice

that being said, it's hard to see how casey wouldn't have his issues with marc and marc's whole approach to racing. I did include some thoughts on the teammate question here, but mainly I'm going to pilfer the relevant autobiography passage:

"if a rider doesn't care about his own safety then it stands to reason he doesn't care about anybody else's either"... there's nobody really who embodies the 'doesn't care about his own safety' maxim better than marc. he was the young rider desperate to win, and I can't imagine casey would have enjoyed actually racing him much. casey mostly didn't enjoy racing valentino, after all, who is a generally a lot more selective with his aggression than marc is (though casey did have to experience some of the worst valentino had to offer in that regard). casey talked in his autobiography about getting a sense when he just wasn't really able to trust another rider on the track, how much it bothered him - and that exact lack of respect is something that's been pretty closely associated with marc. that doesn't mean he would immediately declare marc his enemy... he'd just want marc to change, to learn, to grow up, to start treating his competitors with a little more respect. the way casey talks about young riders, there is a sense in which he has more time for them than he does for valentino - whose lack of respect casey views as more integral to who he is as a rider. valentino isn't a bully on track due to the exuberance of youth, he's a bully on track when he thinks he can use it as a tactic of intimidation. then again, marc by this measure is worse... and I think very quickly casey would have grown pretty disenchanted with how marc approaches all his wheel-to-wheel racing, especially when it becomes more and more clear marc does not feel particularly inclined to change

it's always important to remember how recent the trauma of losing simoncelli was for the whole sport, and it coloured both dani and jorge's wariness of marc... but also (in my opinion anyway) their restraint in how they dealt with him. how they tried to stop themselves from actually making an enemy out of him, in part because they'd just had an experience of harshly criticising a rider for a whole year and then having to process his death. both dani and jorge actually had more public and more serious disagreements with simoncelli than casey did, but I reckon there would have been an element of that restraint with casey too... on the other hand, his experiences with marc would have left him feeling even more alienated from the sport than he already was - at times frustrated (like jorge was) less with marc directly but more with the regulatory bodies for not holding marc back, for not giving him a race ban or whatever to teach him a lesson. that being said, marc's shamelessness vs casey's stubbornness means that if they had direct on-track encounters and casey didn't like marc's post-race response... well, I certainly think that'd end up being a pretty tense situation, even if it falls short of active hostilities

worth including irl!casey's take on marc in 2013:

which, you know. it's not just that marc's a hard racer - casey is accusing marc of deliberately wanting to make the defeats extra painful for his opponents, of wanting to not just beat but humiliate them. anyone else that reminds you of? someone who is as motivated in securing his psychological victories as his actual ones? perhaps someone who has a bit of a history himself with casey?

let's bring in valentino. it's not that casey would really have begrudged marc his friendship with valentino, and he generally kept his hatred of valentino quite 'clean' in that he wasn't conducting any proxy wars or anything (for instance, I don't get the sense the vale/sic friendship ever affected his view of simoncelli... though I have very little to go on here either way). also, if nothing else in this timeline changes, we're assuming valentino in 2013 is fairly clearly the... fifth? best rider? kinda depends where dani would have landed I suppose (casey's retirement announcement did save honda from a bit of a headache)... but anyway what this means is that valentino probably wouldn't initially have been much of a competitive threat to casey. mostly he would have been consigned to the sidelines

that being said, I doubt casey would have massively enjoyed the whole laguna seca saga. unfortunately, we don't even really know what real life casey's stance on the copycat move situation was... though if I had to guess, in this timeline I'd say his position would've been, a) marc could and should have carried out that overtake two corners later, there was no need in that race situation to take that risk, b) still, it was valentino's slight error as he attempted to reclaim the position (in what was a pretty aggressive manner, it has to be said) that led to them both ending up off-track and fuck that guy, and c) the problem with 2008 wasn't just or even primarily the corkscrew overtake and it's annoying that that's the only bit everyone talks about. of course, there's also the question of whether casey would have bought marc's explanation that it was totally by coincidence that the overtake happened there... and again, complete guesswork, but my sense of casey is that he would have assumed marc was being at least a little bit dishonest. (which, you know... laguna's not an easy track to overtake at, but marc did prove with the bradl move that he was perfectly capable of overtaking after turn 8 - might not have been planning on the off-track excursion, but he was still attempting to overtake just ahead of a blind crest that happened to feed into the corkscrew lol.) I think casey by his honda days had calmed down a bit (though he still certainly had some conspiratorial tendencies), but I also don't think it's a stretch to imagine that he would've felt like he was a victim of a joke between the pair of them... not ideal

overall though, I reckon casey's main frustrations would have been less with the move itself and more with how it was discussed. in the presser, while joking with marc, valentino does take the opportunity to get in a jibe at casey for old time's sake. there's this clip, where he directly addresses livio suppo (at ducati in 2008, by then at honda) - specifically about how both casey and suppo criticised him for that overtake. in response, suppo says something about how he's grateful to marc because they finally got payback. valentino is later asked directly about casey's complaints in 2008 in this clip, and replies with the following:

would valentino have said this stuff with casey still in the paddock? well, yes! honestly, given valentino did very quickly lay off needling casey once he had retired, there's a good chance he would have said something worse. and marc would have laughed along at the whole thing. I don't know, I just don't see casey taking particularly kindly to that... he can hold a grudge, that man can, and at a certain point he'd probably be increasingly less willing to give marc the benefit of the doubt. interesting situation though, laguna seca '13 + casey is a very juicy scenario that could play out in several different ways

but I'm guilty of burying the lede here - there's a far more obvious reason than anything I've described above for why the casey/marc relationship would have turned sour. it's the simple fact that they would have been teammates which would do the damage all on its lonesome; they have radically different conceptualisations of how that dynamic is supposed to work and would inevitably have clashed as a result. the one commonality they do have is they don't see their teammates as potential friends, which is... also not helpful! I think they'd probably initially be fine on the interpersonal level - and, actually, given how the casey/valentino relationship played out and marc's general approach to his rivalries, I can see marc/casey more or less being able to maintain a minimum standard of politeness towards each other even at their worst. like, I still think they'd be able to smile at each other and do some small talk when face-to-face, but I also think everything else would be a complete disaster. I talked a bit about how marc approaches his teammate relationships in this post - and I'm not going to rehash too much of what irl!marc got up to, but I'll include some bits relevant to casey

from marc:

related to casey:

and dani comparing the two:

we do obviously even have actual real life controversy wherein casey thinks marc felt threatened by him and forced him out of honda... and this in a timeline where they weren't even direct competitors! if this is the level of tension a test rider role can generate, then if they'd actually been teammates...? yeah, no. casey thinks that teammates should cooperate - and he thinks that riders enforcing divisions within the box are essentially doing so because they are "afraid". marc has openly admitted to lying about what parts he likes to make sure his teammate doesn't get any edge over him. this is the thing, right: marc might think casey is a cool rider, would've liked the chance to race him and even be teammates with him... but this is the stuff he did to dani, who was one of his literal idols! this is his understanding of competition - (like valentino) he might love the fight, but simultaneously he'll do pretty much whatever it takes to win, because he considers this stuff fundamentally part of the game. casey does not. to casey, this kind of victory is dishonest. any kind of gamesmanship is a sign of weakness... the victory is worth less if you're accomplishing it like that

now, hey, maybe marc would never have been able to go as far as he did with dani because he wouldn't have the kind of performance edge that allows you to definitively impose your will within the team. I think it's a popular interpretation that marc wouldn't have won the title in 2013 if casey had been there, which... I mean, I think it's true that it would have been less likely - in that in a season with that much volatility, the more plausible championship contenders you have the less likely it is that any single one of them takes the title (same goes for instance if you add in a valentino who had not gone to ducati for two years and would have presumably been more competitive in 2013). but it's not like casey would have been the defending champion and the clear class of the field... partly due to injury, he ended up finishing in third in 2012. jorge and dani didn't win the 2013 title in part as a result of their own injuries, and who knows how casey would have fared... like sometimes it's just luck of the draw really. you can be the better rider and still not win the title, shit happens. I think for as long as a more or less healthy-ish casey stays in the sport, it would have been unlikely that marc establishes quite the same performance edge as he did over dani... but, well, if anything that would have meant he would have fought even harder out of perceived necessity to win the internal honda wars

it's the kind of thing that can make a relationship quickly deteriorate, especially with a prickly character such as casey, and it's entirely plausible that dynamic would have become strained at best and horrendously toxic at worst... sooner rather than later. and the thing is, this environment would affect marc considerably less than it would casey. again, it's the fact that he relishes the fight... he's very good at shrugging off (most) criticism and thrives in that kind of tension. the emotional fatigue that this scenario generates would be painfully lopsided, where casey offers harsh criticisms and means them and is endlessly frustrated with marc's approach, while marc... doesn't really care. at least dani also had a questionable manager who was conducting behind the scenes warfare on his behalf - casey doesn't want to play these games at all. he just wants to ride a bike, and marc is never going to allow him to live in peace as long as he's an internal threat. if casey were exposed directly to all of that from marc, I doubt he'd walk away from the experience with a particularly positive impression of him

does he walk away? I think there's a decent chance that casey would have ended up so disillusioned with the whole thing that this would have been what pushed him into retirement. if he wants to get out of that mess, let's say after two years, his options would have been pretty limited. yamaha is closed off and I'd struggle to think of a scenario in which either jorge or valentino would have been particularly interested in a direct swap (also, if you're sick of being marc's teammate, you're probably not gonna be jumping at the chance to be valentino's instead). I suppose you could go back to ducati (which he did return to as a test rider so it's not like those bridges were permanently burnt), and maybe casey could do something special even with *gestures* that version of the bike. really though... I think enough would have been enough for him. regardless of the actual balance of success between the pair of them, my guess is marc wins that war because he's happier to get nasty and because he wants it more. casey has his two to four titles... he's done. let him go fishing

#wow sorry i feel like this is a bit depressing? 'casey would retire at age 29 rather than 27' feels like a mean place to take this #maybe this is too cynical.... feel free to disagree. just personally really struggle to see anything other than disaster #i think it's a fun scenario but in all seriousness as someone who is like. generally invested in casey finding some peace in life #i'm quite glad he didn't have to go through it. good chance he gets another title but he left for a reason #'oh nice an ask i can answer quickly' i think to myself #and well i did write it quickly but i realise it's still. quite long #babynflames #marc marquez #casey stoner #//#mm93 #cs27 #2013-15-ish vale/jorge love and peace era were already kinda looking over at the honda wars and going. what's all this then #in this timeline i reckon they'd be even more pointedly cooperative. occasionally give a friendly thumbs up at the explosions next door #valentino a big believer in letting others do his dirty work for him so it'd be very [carefully neutral smile]#'EYE didn't think there was any problem with marc's move... maybe casey should consider not leaving a gap next time?' (there was no gap)#he does do that a littleeee with jorge but idk it felt less malicious... i think on a personal level he enjoyed riling casey up more #more genuine dislike for jorge imo but couldn't quite help himself with casey with the constant bickering... it's complicated #where would marc/casey have their first on-track incident? reckon cota would actually be a good shout - get it in nice and early #vibes of a good casey track but not marc cota levels good but marc's still a child... idk you need to get them in the same bit of track so #otherwise some time in the assen to brno stretch.... let's say *spins wheel* indianapolis #can u imagine if marc did the corkscrew move on CASEY... get rid of bradl (sorry dude) what does THAT podium look like what are the vibes

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definitelynotafurinasimp · 21 hours

Text

“There’s nothing we can do”

Characters: Furina x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for Fontaine, angst/no comfort

a/n: This started as a joke between me and a friend which eventually lead us to make a small competition abt writing Furina angst. I've kept this in my WIP since the end of November, but considering it's been 7 months and no sign of them finishing theirs I'll just post it.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

The first one hundred years were the hardest. Before the realization she was going to outlive everyone around her had time to truly settle in, before her hopes this whole affair might resolve somewhat quickly were crushed over and over again until they were more akin to sand than the dreams she once had, and most importantly, before she had lost you.

No matter how many nights passed, new faces burst into her life only to slowly change and eventually disappear or years rolled by, one person’s face was never buried too deep in her memories. Whenever Furina closed her eyes for even a fraction of second you were there to greet her, whenever she walked past the building on that unremarkable street corner you had always so proudly claimed to be your home, she could see you standing there, greeting her with a smile radiant enough that she was scared of looking at it for too long, lest she go blind.

The house no longer stood there of course, having long been torn down only for a dozen shops to spring up in its place… not like that made her memories any less vivid.

You had been introduced to her as Neuvillette’s assistant. It felt weird for her at the time to see him hire a human considering how little he cared for them, so it was no surprise when it quickly became clear he wouldn’t trust you with any of his actual work, reducing your job as his assistant to nothing more than a title. By the time you officially gave up your role however, you had already sunken your claws into her, slowly becoming a part of her life without her even realizing it until it was too late.

You were charming, eager to help and too smart for your own good, having to have Furina bail you out of trouble more than once, your tendency to quickly get into heated discussions with some of the scientists trying to find a way to stop the prophecy landing you unpleasant experiences more than once. Yet, while some of your coworkers may have waited for the day you finally quit, you never left Furina’s side, serving her loyally day in and out.

At first, she thought nothing of it. She was supposed to act as your archon so having you dutifully serve her was basically part of the script, but while she knew better, the need to have someone, anyone she could rely on eventually led to her walls lowering around you. There was nothing wrong with finding a friend in you after all, as long as she didn’t confess her secrets to you, everything was fine…

It was supposed to be just a normal tea party as always, the two of you chatting about whatever came to your mind as you feasted on the desserts specifically provided by the Archon’s most trusted chefs, and yet you refused to eat anything but the bare minimum, stabbing your fork into your slice of cake and playing with the small piece you cut off a thousand times before taking a small bite.

You were nervous. Furina didn’t need to be a master detective to figure that out, considering how troubled you looked. What were you going to say once you eventually opened your mouth? Should she help you out by starting the conversation? Maybe you had developed a crush on her? You were spending a lot of time together, so it wouldn’t surprise her too much… although she would have to let you down gently if that was the case, considering how she had to keep her perfect image as an Archon in front of her people… that being said, she could still keep you close if that was the case, even if you weren’t an official item.

“Furina”, your voice eventually cut her thoughts off, causing her gaze to shoot towards you as she awaited what you were about to say, happy and hopeful at first, only for her mood to sour when she saw your serious expression.

“I know you’re keeping something from me. I don’t know what or why, but I know it has something to do with your powers as an Archon”, you continued, your words cutting into her deeper than what she was prepared for. Chest suddenly feeling a lot tighter as each breath became more arduous than the last, Furina quickly taking one last sip of her drink to cover up her nervousness before putting her cup down and giving you an innocent smile.

“Pardon? What did you say?”

Yet, no matter how long she kept smiled at you, your face didn’t soften, your frown only growing more intense as you took a step forward.

“Stop trying to lie to me, please. If there’s just the slightest chance what you’re keeping a secret might help to avert the prophecy, then you have to tell me, I’m begging you”, you ignored her attempts at playing it off, your voice growing more shaky as you kneeled down in front of her, instinctively taking her hand into yours while trying to look her into the eyes, only for Furina to avert your every attempt. Her free hand clenched into a fist as she tried her best to keep up appearances.

“The future of Fontaine may depend on it, please”, you begged one last time, your eyes becoming slightly watery as you gave her hands one more soft squeeze, forcing Furina to try her hardest not to break down right in front of you.

“Haha, you are aware that slandering an Archon counts as a crime, aren’t you? Let’s end this conversation before you accidentally say something you might regret”, she suggested, trying to sound as confident and cheerful as ever, her eyes closing as her smile grew wider, all the while praying you’d just let it be and forget the whole thing before you grew too close to figuring out her secret.

Instead of budging however, your grip on her hand grew tighter, as you looked at her with an expression that grew more resolute by the second. “If you can’t find it in yourself to trust me after all these years, then you leave me no choice. I won’t let you go until you tell me”, you put forward your ultimatum… it was admittedly a weak one, your desperation seeping through your every action, and still you didn’t let go no matter how pleadingly Furina looked at you.

Don’t make me do this. Please forget it before it’s too late. Her thoughts screamed inside of her, wishing to break free as she remained completely silent, only for her mouth to open one last time.

“You will let me go. I am your Archon, you would do well to remember your place. No matter how close we seemed”, Furina stated immediately after standing up from her seat, looking down at you with as brave of an expression as she could muster, only to take one final breath before continuing, fighting the tears threatening to well up in her eyes as she felt her voice threaten to be reduced to a whimper. And yet, no matter how much it hurt, she pressed onwards, not wanting to leave any chance of you figuring it out. “You will leave this room and pack your office. I shall arrange your final paycheck and a farewell bonus for all your hard work and that shall be it. Farewell.”

For a moment, it looked as if you wanted to object, only to stop yourself when you saw the determination in her eyes, swallowing your final words before slowly standing up as well and marching to the door without saying anything, your shaky hand grabbing the doorknob before you opened it.

She almost called out to you then and there, telling you that she was sorry and didn’t mean it, and yet, the words never left her mouth and soon after you were gone. The moment the sound of the closing door echoed through the halls, Furina collapsed onto her seat, tears streaming down her cheeks as the empty room was filled with her silent sobbing, one word leaving her mouth over and over again until it eventually became one with her cries.

Sorry.

Even though Furina knew after what she had done she had no right to expect to hear anything from you, she still hoped to get passing news on how you were living a happy life, fulfilling whatever goals you set for yourself after the two of you parted… and yet she never heard anything about you again. Just like that you were gone, vanishing into nothingness. Maybe you left Fontaine for another nation or maybe you chose to live an uneventful life, but at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. You were gone, almost certainly having died centuries ago without Furina ever getting the chance to apologize and tell you the truth…

Maybe, she’d get the chance to meet you again one day, when her time was up and she left for a final journey, but until then, there was nothing she could do.

#furina #furina x you #furina x y/n #furina x reader

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