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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 11 months

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Homie Hopper the finale (pt 5) - Charles Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x Gasly!reader - Pierre Gasly x sister!reader - Lando Norris x Gasly!reader - Yuki Tsunoda x plantonic!reader

Summary: Pierre’s sister has been friends with Charles all these years too, and after she oversteps and gets bitten. He finds himself guilty and sorry for it. But nothing feels worse than when she sets out to make him eat his words.

Thank you to everyone who has been reading this series. It’s really nice to see it get some love. Also not proofread, and I hope this doesn’t suck as an ending.

Beginning to notice that Charles is a bit of a homie hopper if rumours are true and I felt inspired to create a story with a character that calls him out and maybe leaves him realising he’s avoided feelings.

Use of y/n

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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The silence was deafening. Charles wants to break the awkward atmosphere but he doesn’t know if he’s ready to admit his feelings so openly.

“Charles?” Y/n sighs sounding hopeful? Or maybe he’s hoping she’s hopeful too.

“I don’t like seeing you with Lando.” Charles admits suddenly making her almost want to internally celebrate that her plan worked, even if it worked in a way that she hadn’t initially intended for it to. “And I think you should date me.”

There’s another long silence that follows while y/n processes his words.

“That would make me a bit of a homie hopper.” Y/n states which makes Charles frown since he has no idea what she’s talking about. “It means bouncing around from friend to friend, like you-used to. Like you used to.”

“Sounds like we would be the perfect pair.”

“I’m not sure that’s all that logical.” Y/n laughs before she tilts her head a little in consideration. “Doesn’t sound like a promise of much loyalty.”

Loyalty easily being a concern for y/n after her last experience and since Charles has a reputation of dumping women with the excuse that he needs to focus on his career then immediately dating someone else. It’s not exactly the comforting thoughts that y/n needs when trying to motivate her.

“Did you know I had a crush on you when we were younger?” Y/n asks deciding that this is awkward anyway, why not just air it all out?

“I knew, but then you got into a relationship and well I was in a relationship. I always thought Pierre would not approve.” Charles admits while y/n has to laugh a little since she’s not convinced that saying Pierre approves would be the top choice of words. “Have you spoken to him about it?”

“Yes. I know you haven’t because I caught him on his way over here.”

“You did? So I should fear him?”

“No. He’s not going to do anything. Certainly not threaten his best friend over his sister.” Y/n dismisses notices Charles look of fear. “So...are we going on a date?”

The worst that can happen is they decide it’s not a right fit and they could come back from that. Right?

“What date?”

“Dinner, we can go to dinner. I want to take you to dinner.” Charles states quickly making y/n smile at his eagerness because honestly his ability to bounce between hottest man alive to most adorable is impressive. “I’ll come get you at 6 tonight?”

“Ok, yeah. I’ll see you then.”

---------

Recruiting Yuki and her brother to aid her in finding something nice to wear because none of her friends from home were picking up the phone wasn’t the ideal method. In fact Pierre had no been invited, but he caught Yuki heading towards her hotel room and began to question what was happening and what was going on with them.

“I think the pink dress.” Pierre states making Yuki look at him before shaking his head.

“No. The black dress. Stop trying to uhh...to sabotage her.” Yuki scolds making y/n laugh since Yuki will always call Pierre out for stuff. “The pink dress is nice, but the black dress is better.”

“Thank you, Yuki.” Y/n smiles moving to kiss his cheek. “Alright, outfit sorted. I got it from here. The two of you can get back to whatever you were doing before.”

“If Charles upsets you, I’m going to find him and I don’t know...but we won’t be friends.”

“You are so dramatic, Pierre.”

That’s true but he grumbles about it.

The two former teammates leave, heading off to do whatever they’ve got scheduled to do. They’re always pretty busy, so y/n is actually surprised that Charles was able to arrange such a last minute date. But he even text her to confirm time and that he’d be at her hotel room.

So after finishing her hair and make up, y/n just has to wait for him. She’s got 10 minutes before he’s meant to appear at 6 and maybe to her relief, since her anxiety about this was building, he arrives 5 minutes early.

“You look....beautiful. So beautiful.” Charles smiles softly before y/n can greet him, his eyes already transfixed on looking her up and down.

Charles is actually dressed in a linen suit that completely supports the explanation of why he’s never short of female attention. They almost oppose each other, Charles the light and y/n the darkness. But a perfect balance.

“I uhh...you do too.” Y/n states in what can only be described as slightly dumbstruck tone. Too shocked that this is really happening to know what to do with herself. Charles smile and dimples catches her off guard, then he offers his hand which she takes without a second thought.

“Ready?”

“Yes. So ready. Just need to grab my bag.” Y/n nods then smiling as she moves back for a moment feeling bad for leaving his hand after just having accepted it, but he keeps it held out for her till she returns and links their hands again, following him out of the room with her door clicking locked behind them.

The emotions of giddiness and nerves make her bounce between looking overjoyed and uneasy as they make their way to the restaurant.

The whole meal feels like it’s settling into something that could easily be a new norm. Talking, laughing and just really proving that maybe this was something that should’ve happened a long time ago. Almost like something really just clicked into place between them.

It’s not awkward or tense, it’s more comfortable than ever their friendship is.

By the time they finish and head back to the hotel, neither so much want to part.

“Can I be more honest about my past feelings?” Charles asks as they walk into her hotel room, hoping to avoid her brother or literally anyone else. “I have sort of been waiting for you to be single and then when it happened, I thought I would be better to just not...try.”

“Well I’m glad you change your mind. Even if it took a bit of pushing.”

Charles takes the opportunity of nearing y/n and slowly leaning down to close the space between them. Finally giving into the urge to just kiss her after spending the night thinking he should hold back, purely so as to not rush what was already something that could’ve gone wrong.

Feeling y/n smile against his lips is definitely one of the better reactions before she kisses him back. Eventually they pull apart only for him to press his forehead to hers, slower to open his eyes but eventually peeking to see her already watching him.

“We should do that again.” Y/n whispers earning a nod of agreement from Charles.

“We should.”

---------

By race day, Charles and y/n are the gossip of the paddock.

“Do the two of you have to be so open about this new thing?” Pierre questions as they all sit together for the drivers to have a light lunch ahead of the race.

“Don’t be jealous, Pierre. You’re still his best friend.” Y/n smirks which only earns a grumble and eye roll. “Better to get used to us being a better couple than you and Kika. There’s already comparisons and I have no intention for us to be labelled as the less exciting or well-matched couple.”

“You two are already unbearable.”

“You are right. We are better.” Charles agrees making Pierre begin to curse at them both in French.

#charles leclerc #f1 #formula1 #charles #leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fanfic #fanfic #formula1 fanfic

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clusterbuck · 1 year

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"don’t hog the blanket." (bonus if it's pre-relationship teehee)

chimney insists it isn’t a destination wedding, since he and maddie went to the courthouse the day after he proposed and made it official.

(“just—you know. tomorrow isn’t promised, and all that,” he’d said, and the gathered frontrunners of the guinness world record for most deaths evaded, also known as his closest friends and colleagues, had nodded.

“and we don’t want to do a whole big thing, anyway,” he’d added. “we have a kid and a house. there are approximately seventy-three betters ways for us to spend that kind of money, and that’s just off the top of my head.”)

but everyone agreed there should be something—some way of celebrating their marriage, and maybe also the fact that they’re all still alive. as time goes by, it feels more and more like something to celebrate.

there’s some arguing, several votes, and some creative scheduling on bobby’s part, and they end up with a long weekend at an airbnb an hour outside of los angeles, spouses invited but children not.

buck drives them both up, because of course he does. the only discussion had been what time should i pick you up? and eddie tries to ignore it, like he always tries to ignore the way he and buck default to each other time and time again.

it doesn’t mean anything, he tells himself. it’s just that you’ve been friends for so long, and know each other so well, and sometimes when you close your eyes you imagine him—

it doesn’t mean anything, he tells himself. everything is fine.

they leave after maddie finishes a shift, and get in around dinner time. straws are drawn over who gets to make dinner, and bobby emerges the lucky winner.

“why don’t the rest of you get settled in the meantime?” he suggests. “i’ll be quick.”

maddie starts handing out room keys, although eddie’s not entirely sure why any of them will need a bedroom door that locks.

he’s also not entirely sure he wants to find out.

“oh,” maddie says, looking up at him and buck. “i thought—hm. there’s not as many rooms as i thought there’d be.”

buck frowns. “meaning?”

“can you two share a room?” maddie asks. “just—everyone else is. well. married.” she laughs a little, then looks down at the floor, self-conscious. chimney shows up out of nowhere to press a kiss to her temple.

eddie blinks. he’d known this, of course, on an objective, rational level—but it hits him now, standing in the living room of this airbnb with it’s large windows for gorgeous natural light and whatever the fuck else the description had said.

everyone else is married.

everyone else is married, but more often than not he and buck are treated as an equivalent unit anyway. despite not being married. despite not even being—

“yeah, no problem,” buck says, then turns to look at eddie, something hiding behind the grin on his face. “just don’t hog the blanket.”

eddie scoffs. “you’re one to talk.”

“okay, excuse me,” buck says, “i have never woken with the entire blanket hidden behind my back—”

“that was one time—”

“okay,” maddie says, holding the key out to buck and trying and failing to cover up a laugh. “so you’ll be fine, then.”

yeah, eddie thinks. definitely. it’ll be fine.

and he manages to believe it all the way through dinner, and a surprisingly intense round of charades. he believes it all the way through changing into the pyjamas he’s glad he thought to bring, focusing on organising the pairs of socks in his duffel bag so he doesn’t accidentally catch a glimpse of buck.

then they crawl into bed, eddie avoiding looking at buck so intently that he doesn’t notice buck avoiding looking at him, and—

“you’re doing it,” buck grumbles. “you’re hogging the blanket.”

“am not,” eddie shoots back. “you’re hogging the blanket. i barely have any of it.”

“stop yanking,” buck says. “maybe if you weren’t so far away—”

“you’re far away,” eddie says without thinking, and beside him, buck huffs.

“i’m just gonna—” he mutters, then shuffles around, until suddenly his arm is thrown over eddie’s waist and his face is pressed to eddie’s shoulder. his feet tangle with eddie’s, and the blanket settles comfortably over both of them.

“there,” buck mumbles. “room for both of us.”

eddie makes a noise, one that he hopes buck will interpret as assent. as anything, really, other than what it is, which is eddie’s brain short-circuiting at the feeling of buck’s chest against his back. the weight of buck’s arm on him, and the way buck’s hand has slipped just under the hem of eddie’s t-shirt, his warm fingers splayed against the bare skin of eddie’s stomach. he’s pretty sure that when they get out of bed in the morning, the shape of buck’s hand will be seared into his skin.

he’s imagined this, once or twice before. what it would be like to share a life with buck, to have all these liminal moments he misses out on with the way things are now, the almost-but-not-quite that they never talk about. he’s imagined it, and if felt just like this, right down to how cold buck’s toes are when they brush against his legs and how eddie can’t bring himself to pull away.

but it doesn’t mean anything, eddie tells himself. everything is fine.

only—buck settles in closer and sighs, and eddie, who has spent years listening to every sound buck makes, recognises this one.

this is the sound buck makes when he’s home.

only one bed prompts 🛏️

#911fic #buddie #buddie fic #ask emma #queerbuck #emma writes

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thedeviltohisangel · 1 month

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I would die for more Spook and Bucky!! Maybe when she gets back from her mission or something when they know eachother a bit better? Sorry this isn’t much of a prompt but I loved how you wrote them!!

All The Things I Did (Interlude): A Sight for Sore Eyes

a/n: thank you for the request! hope you all enjoy, reach out with thoughts/comments and any other future scenarios for the two most gone for each other people in western europe.

John was on her doorstep bright and early, a fresh bunch of flowers in his hands. They were less clammy this time. After their dinner in town the night before, he was feeling more confident. There was a bounce to his step. A youthful flush to his cheeks. A twinkle beyond mischief in his eyes.

“Morning, Mary, have you seen Lieutenant Cooper yet this morning?” he asked when Cass didn’t appear promptly outside her billet. John had arrived early to try and perfect a careless lean against the side of his Jeep.

“I apologize, Major Egan, but she left early this morning.” Mary barely looked up from her typewriter to deliver the news. Unaware John had felt each word like a blow to the chest.

“Left? She say when she would be back?” It was answered with a shake of her head.

“We’ve learned not to ask,” she then spared him a glance, “and not to wait up.” Sometimes, Cass was gone for a couple of days. Most of the time. When it took longer, it meant something had gone wrong.

“Thanks.” He turned to leave but stopped. “If something happens, who would know?” John couldn’t stop the question from leaving his lips. Had to get the thought out of his head. Stop it from ricocheting around. Mary paused her typing altogether and focused her attention fully on John Egan.

“Major, Lieutenant Cooper is one of our best. She knows what she is doing.” It wasn’t an answer to his question because John knew the answer was that no one would know. That Cass was out there detached from here on purpose.

“I’m sure she is, Mary. Either way, if-”

“You’ll be the first to know.” He tipped his cap, the flowers finding their way into a waste bin on his way out the door.

----

“When do I get to meet this girl of yours?” Buck had arrived a couple days prior, thrilled to see his best friend again but more than pestering when it came to meeting the girl he had heard about briefly over the phone. The fact that John had mentioned her at all had him beyond intrigued.

“I wish I knew.” John was miserable. He put on a happy face, celebrating the arrival of the 100th and serving as a one man welcome wagon. But Gale could see right through it. Could see the way his eyes lingered on an empty chair at breakfast. The way he sadly accepted a bunch of wildflowers every morning from the local kids. “I was told not to wait up.” Gale couldn’t help but chuckle.

“That’s rich coming from you in such a tone.”

“I guess I deserve that.” He smiled in spite of his commitment to pouting.

“When she’s back, soon,” he added for his friend’s benefit, “I look forward to asking what’s wrong with her to go on a date with the likes of you.”

“You’ll like her,” he said without thinking and then caught himself. “She thinks like is a lazy word for it. You’ll be…enamored by her.” He was proud of himself. That was a word Cass would approve of. Gale had half a mind to ask John when the wedding was when a woman came running into the mess hall and seemed out of breath.

“Major Egan-”

“Mary, this is my friend, Major-”

“-an unidentified aircraft just radioed the tower asking for permission to land.

“Cass.” John breathed out a breath he had been holding in ever since he had said goodnight to her after the pub.

“They requested emergency medical support upon arrival.” John took off, rounding the corner towards the airfield just as a plane emerged from the clouds to begin its descent.

“John, maybe you should give her some room. Let the professionals do their job.” Gale had sprinted to catch up to him.

“I just need to know she’s alive.” In his short time here, he had watched too many men go up into the sky and not come back down. She needed to come back and she needed to be alive and in one piece. John couldn’t handle the one, precious, pure thing in his life falling victim like all the others.

When she stumbled and fell out of the back of that plane, he couldn’t help himself. As he got closer he could see she was gripping a bleeding wound in her arm, a makeshift tourniquet doing its best to staunch the bleeding.

“John.” Her voice seemed weaker. Like she was barely suppressing the pain. Her face was marred by cuts that were still dripping blood and the purpling around her eye was making his blood boil. She reached for him and he reached for her, their fingers seeking purchase, when a severe looking man pushed against chest.

“No contact with the asset until after interrogation.”

“Cass!” John couldn’t care less about the man pushing him back towards the grass. “Get your hands off of me!” He watched as she was lifted onto a gurney, her eyes looking back at him until she disappeared into the medical building.

“Hey, hey, hey, let’s all take it easy.” Gale pushed his way in between the two. “We’ve all got our orders.” The man gave them a look then stalked off in the direction Cass had already gone.

“Asset? Did you hear the way he just dehumanized her? As she’s…As she’s lying there bleeding and reaching for me to help her.” He was pacing with anger. “She earned every fucking bit of the rank on her collar!”

“Bucky-”

“I’m going in there.” Gale didn’t think there was any reasoning with him until he was sure that Cass was okay. Until he heard the words from her mouth and believed them. There was no stopping him, only managing the fall out

John opened the door to the sound of hushed voices and grunts of pain. Cass was answering their questions through gritted teeth, Colonel Huglin watching from the corner. He could only make out a few words; Gestapo, railroad network, did they see you with him?

“Stop acting like this was my first- fuck, Doc!” John smiled. There she was.

“Gentlemen, I need the room if I’m going to get this bullet out.” Bullet? He hid behind the door until they all cleared out.

“Now that is not the mouth of a polite lady.” Life flared back into her eyes as he came into view, the smile he’d been hoping to see across her face in an instant.

“Major, you can’t-”

“No. I want him to stay.” She reached towards him, the way she had only moments earlier, except this time nothing stopped him from reaching her. Regretted that anything had in the first place.

“You’re back,” he murmured as stood between her legs and got a good look at her. The doctor was assembling a tray of tools to deal with the bullet wound in her bicep, a few small bandages already on her face and a bag of ice by her thigh for her eye. But she was here and she was in one piece. That was all he could ask for.

“I’m sorry I left without saying anything. It had nothing to do with you or our night at the pub.” She was rambling and John was mesmerized. Couldn’t look away from this slightly less guarded version of herself she was letting him see.

“I didn’t think it did, Cass. Promise.” She released a breath she had been holding ever since he said goodnight to her after the pub. Cass had thought about it her entire trip into France. Ruminated on the fact that John was going to be upset with her. Convinced herself while she read the paper on a park bench and watched soldiers walk by that any chance of something normal with him was gone. That she couldn’t have her dream of him and this job. That, somehow, her independence always led her to being alone.

“This is going to sting, Lieutenant.” She gripped John’s hand and he gripped back as alcohol was poured over the wound on her arm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chanted as her forehead rested against his chest.

“Why don’t you tell me how you got that bullet in there, Miss Spook.”

“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” she teased.

“You’d love nothing more than to be the death of me,” he pushed back.

“Bite down, Lieutenant.” The doc handed her a piece of leather.

“Eyes on me, Cass.” He gently palmed her cheek to keep her focused away from the impending procedure. She wanted to make a comment. Something snide to reassert control over the situation. To not lose her footing in those very eyes he had teased her of being fond of only nights prior. She was fond of them. Irreparably so.

“On the count of three, Lieutenant. One, two-” The doctor never got to three before searing, white hot pain ripped through her body, John’s hand absorbing as much of the pain as she could give him and his chest taking on the whips that her pained sounds were lashing against him. “It’s out, Lieutenant. You keeping this one as well?” She nodded.

“You got a collection of bullets? They all pulled from you?”

“Yes. So every time someone tries to threaten me with Gestapo ghost stories, I’ve got proof they’re just humans.” John took the cool wash cloth from the nurse that approached them and dabbed at Cass’ forehead tenderly. “Do I scare you, John? It’s okay to tell me. I’m used to it by now.” Plenty of boys and men had taken her dancing and out to dinner and not wanted to again. All of them afraid of her sharpness and lack of regard for listening silently. They wanted nothing to do with her mind and her opinions and her desire to roll up her sleeves and stick her hands in the mud.

“Cass, the only thing that has scared me since meeting you is losing you.” She smiled, his words a soothing balm to the demons in her mind. “I don’t know about you but I’m about sick of people getting in the way of me and you recently.” Cass stroked her knuckles across his cheek, barely feeling the pull of stitches as he looked at her with a soft hunger.

“Major Egan, that look in your eyes is dangerous,” she whispered. He licked his lips, using his last shreds of decency to maintain any semblance of professionalism in front of the infirmary staff.

“That doesn’t seem to have stopped you before.” Somewhere in the background, she thinks the doctor was telling her she was free to go and keep ice on her eye. But this silent dance between her and John was too intoxicating to disengage from.

“How about you let me change into something nicer and then you take me and a blanket out to that wildflower field?” His nose knocked against hers, their lips brushing against each other teasingly and tauntingly.

“I can do that.” His voice was thick with desire. She imagined it might be what he sounds like when he was in the beginning of taking a woman to bed. Cass was molten under his gaze and loving every moment. “Just don’t keep me waiting too long or I might have to take matters into my own hands.” An empty threat. The ghost of her touch was more stimulating tahn any other.

“Well, we can’t be having that, Major.”

#masters of the air #john egan #callum turner #mota #masters of the air fanfiction #masters of the air fanfic #john egan fanfiction #john egan fanfic #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner fanfic

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 1 year

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New Year's Day | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Happy New Year('s Eve)! I'm not sure if its NYE where you are or if the clock has already struck midnight. Regardless, have a great 2023! I am hanging out with my parents and I will be kissing no one at midnight. Look out 2023, I'm wild.

Warnings: mention of alcohol, mention of anxiety, idiots in love

"There's glitter on the floor after the party

Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby

Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor

You and me, forevermore"

...

Bucky didn’t like parties. It wasn’t that he hated celebrations, nor was he a “fun crusher” as Tony often called him. He just didn’t like the crowds, the noise. Large social gatherings made him uncomfortable. And he had plenty reason to stay far away from any get-together of more than a handful of people. I

But this party- this was the exception. It was the New Year’s bash, the party of all parties. It was supposed to celebrate the end of the tumultuous twelve months you’d faced, and usher in a- hopefully better- year to come.

Throngs of people planned to gather in a luxe penthouse in Manhattan and party until sunup. And while that wasn’t usually Bucky’s idea of a good time, he wanted this night to be special.

On more occasions than he could count, you sat out of Tony’s parties because of Bucky. You stayed home while everyone you knew- and many you didn’t- had the time of their lives. And while you never complained, Bucky feared you’d resent him. That you’d get tired of coddling him and his anxiety.

Not that you’d ever feel that way about him. You stayed home from every party because you wanted to, not out of obligation. You wanted to be with Bucky. And if that meant foregoing a Stark party, you didn’t mind. Even if you went without Bucky, you knew you wouldn’t have any fun. You’d spend the entire night missing him, wishing he was there. Attending Tony’s parties wasn’t worth it unless Bucky was there, too.

With the NYE party looming over him, Bucky decided he needed to attend. He knew you wanted to go. Any time someone mentioned it, you perked up. It was subtle, but Bucky noticed. He knew you were itching to celebrate the new year and party till sunup with the rest of the team. And while just the thought of fireworks and large crowds was enough to make him sweat, he was determined to make it work.

Plus, he wanted to kiss you at midnight. He wanted to ring in the new year with your lips pressed to his. He wanted to stand on the balcony overlooking the city with you- just you- and tell you how he felt about you.

But asking you to be his date proved harder than he expected.

“I think we should go to the party,” he told you one day over lunch. “It sounds fun.”

A blank stare stole the light from your eyes. You blinked once. Twice. “Okay, wait. I’m sorry- what? Did you just way you wanted to go to a party?” You laughed, “are you on drugs?”

Bucky rolled his eyes at you, “No, I’m not on drugs, doll.” He chucked his balled-up straw wrapper at you and made you squeal. “I wanna go- with you, I mean. I want us to celebrate the fact that we somehow made it through this fucking year alive.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. Between the Flag Smashers, a slew of nightmarish missions, and a nearly fatal run in with a Zola apologist, the past twelve months hadn’t treated either of you with kindness. You’d reached your quota on near-death experiences and stays in the med bay- but you survived. And Bucky wanted to commemorate it.

He gave you an expectant look, “What do you think? You wanna go together?”

You let out an excited laugh- a scream, really. “Hell yeah, Barnes- Oh, I have to text Wanda!” The clicking of your nails against your screen echoed through the space as you fired off a message to Wanda. “She, Nat, Maria, and Sam are going as a group! I bet we can tag along.”

It sounded fun, but Bucky wanted to smack himself upside the head. Of course, you didn’t realize he intended it to be a date; he never actually said the words. All he said was that you should go together- but the two of you went everywhere together. Based on the way he phrased his statement, this was no different than his request for you to accompany him to Trader Joe’s.

It would’ve been an easy fix. A quick, “Would you like to be my date?” would surely correct the situation in less than a minute. But Bucky was already in too deep. He’d worked up all his courage and spent it on asking you- incorrectly- to accompany him. And now his tank was empty. And he couldn’t retroactively ask you to be his date now; it would seem like an afterthought. You were never an afterthought.

“Wanda said we can go with them,” you shot Bucky a warm smile. “I’m so happy we’re going!”

“Good. Me too.” He matched your smile, regardless of the anxiety eating away at his insides.

Without warning, you grabbed Bucky’s hand. “I know you’re not really much of a party guy, though, so we’ll just play it by ear, alright? If at any point you wanna leave, that’s totally fine.”

Bucky gave you an overly casual shrug, “Oh, don’t worry about me, doll. I’m-”

“There’s gonna be fireworks…”

Bucky nodded.

“Are you sure you wanna go?” Your eagerness to attend Tony’ party disappeared at you thought about Bucky’s past. You didn’t want him to be uncomfortable- even for a second. “We could get away from the city for the night, instead. Maybe stay at Clint’s cabin?”

Bucky gave your hand a squeeze, “I’ll be okay. I promise. How bad could it be?” The words ‘will you be my date?’ swarmed inside Bucky’s head like a cloud of angry bees; he could barely hear you over the buzzing. Lunch ended without him asking, without you agreeing to be his date.

Bucky found the answer to his question the moment he stepped into the party. How bad could it be? Bad.

Hordes of people, loud music, champagne bottles popping at every turn. Cameras flashed left and right. Glitter and confetti littered the floor, making it slick as you walked through the crowd. Bucky was nearly sweating through his suit jacket. Drunk partygoers stumbled into the two of you time and time again. And while Bucky didn’t like being touched by strangers, he wanted to take the brunt. He didn’t want anyone knocking you down or stepping on your feet.

He was uncomfortable to say the least. Just like he knew he would be. Just like you feared. Part of him wished he’d opted for the cabin getaway you offered at lunch. But you grounded him. Every time you looked at him, every time you laughed at one of his jokes or rested your hand on his arm, his world righted itself. You helped him find solace, peace- even amongst the chaos.

And though he’d seen you dressed up before, this way different. He loved way your shimmering gold dress caught the light. He loved the glittery make up that adorned your skin. You were radiant. Breathtaking. Perfect in every way. Hundreds of people filled the penthouse, but he only saw you. Only you mattered.

“You good?” you shouted to Bucky over the roar of the crowd.

He nodded. “Why?”

“You’re staring”, you yelled. “I thought I had something in my teeth!”

Bucky’s head fell back in a laugh that got lost in the noise of the party. He shook his head and brought his lips to your ear, speaking so that only you could hear him. “You just look really beautiful. That’s all.”

A rush of warmth flooded your cheeks. You couldn’t believe someone as perfect as him thought you were beautiful. He looked so good, so unbelievably handsome- it shouldn’t have been allowed. The way his suit fit his body nearly made you salivate. And thought you’d seen him in it before when you helped him pick it out, it still made you weak in the knees. It was the perfect material to compliment the dress you and Wanda selected for you to wear.

And you knew the fabric would feel incredible as you gripped his lapels and pulled him in for a New Year’s kiss.

Everything seemed to be going your way for once. Every time you had the chance to tell Bucky how you felt, something sabotaged you. Bucky was always getting phone calls from Fury at the wrong times, and Wanda’s unannounced drop-ins coincided with your confession on more than one occasion. Part of you worried that it was the universe’s way of telling you not to say anything. Maybe he didn’t have feelings for you. Maybe you were better off as friends.

But you had to try, didn’t you?

“Hey, Buck. I was wondering if-”

Bucky couldn’t focus. He knew you were talking to him, knew that he needed to pay attention. But all he could think about was kissing you. Inhaling you. Making you his. He’d been through enough waking nightmares that nothing scared him anymore- except you. Why was he so nervous? He could run into gunfire and jump out of planes but telling you how he felt flooded his system with fear.

He couldn’t do this. His brain screamed at him to abort the mission.

“I’m gonna run- um, I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he suddenly blurted out. “Be back in a minute.”

Before you knew what happened, he dashed through the crowd and disappeared. You stood on the dance floor- alone- with strangers bumping into you every few seconds. This had to be cosmic sabotage; the universe clearly didn’t want you to be with Bucky. But you didn’t care. You’d had just enough liquid courage to give you the tenacity you needed. The universe could get fucked, in your opinion. You balked in the face of fate and destiny and divine intervention and set off in Bucky’s direction.

He leaned over the bathroom counter and splashed cool water on his face. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his tie askew. This was just sad. Pathetic.

He was the Winter fucking Soldier- why was he scared of something so normal? So low stakes? People did this every day; they kissed the people they loved. But to him, this wasn’t normal. And the stakes had never been higher. He never thought he’d find such a great friend- and definitely never thought he’d fall so deeply in love with her.

He wasn’t prepared for it, didn’t know how to handle these feelings. And if his confession of love or his request for a midnight kiss scared you away, he’d never forgive himself. There were plenty of reasons for you not to want Bucky romantically, so many that he couldn’t even list them all. And of course, you’d let him down gently. You’d be kind about it and would never make him feel bad. But he knew it would change your dynamic forever, and he didn’t know if he could stomach that reality. He couldn’t let you become a stranger.

Partygoers eyed you as you searched high and low for Bucky. They gave you weird looks and whispered about you as you called out his name. They must’ve thought you were an obsessed ex or a crazy fangirl- some of them probably wondered why you were allowed into the party. But you didn’t give a fuck. You were going to find Bucky if it was the last thing you did.

Things got quieter as you moved farther from the massive crowd. Soft music played, you spotted Tony and Pepper sweet talking one another in a quiet corner. Finally, you could hear yourself think. But it was 11:58, and this penthouse was bigger that your childhood home. There was no way you were going to be able to find Bucky in time.

But you weren’t going to give up. As you rounded the corner down a long hallway, a wall of muscle bumped into you. Its mass nearly sent you crashing to the floor, until an arm wound around your waist. “Oh, shit- sweetheart, I’m sorry.” Bucky saved you from falling and pulled you close to his body. “Are you alright?”

There was no time for small talk or pleasantries, you had a mission- and your time to accomplish it was running out. “Buck, would you be my New Year’s kiss?”

Bucky stared at you, “What?”

“There’s like-” you checked your phone, “there’s like less than two minutes till the ball drops and I- do you want to kiss me at midnight? Yes or no?”

Bucky gave you a smile and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Doll, you’re drunk-”

“I’m not. We both know I’m not.” He was trying to get out of it- to find an excuse, wasn’t he? Embarrassment flared inside your chest.

Bucky could’ve suffocated in the tension. His heartbeat pounded so loud in his ears it drowned out the music. The raucous crowd.

“It feels embarrassing to ask a third time, but you haven’t technically answered, so-”

“Yes,” Bucky nodded. He gave the area a cursory glance and found it less enchanting than he would’ve liked for such an important moment. “But, don’t you wanna go back to the party and see the ball drop? Or stand on the balcony to watch the fireworks?”

“No. I wanna be here. With you.”

The crowd began their countdown.

“FIVE…”

And all Bucky could do was stare at you.

“FOUR…”

He hated that he ran away, that he lost his nerve.

“THREE…”

But here you were.

“TWO…”

Because you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

“ONE…”

And he was going to get his wish

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

People cheered, music blared, fireworks exploded. But neither of you noticed

Bucky took your face in his hands and brought your lips to his. It was the kiss you’d always dreamed of. The one you waited your entire life for. Your mom always said that when you found the right person, you’d know just by kissing them. And while you’d known Bucky was your person since you met him, this just confirmed it.

Kissing him stole your breath- but gave you life at the same time. Was it possible that you’d been holding your breath your entire life, just waiting for this moment?

An intense warmth filled your every cell and lightning struck in your chest. You melted. He knew exactly what you wanted and gave it to you without hesitation. And just as you suspected, the fabric of his lapels felt incredible in your hands as you tried to pull him closer. But there was no ‘closer’. Any closer, and the two of you would become one.

Bucky could’ve died right then. If this was what awaited him over the past hundred years, he was glad he lived so long. You were worth it- all the pain and suffering and sadness. You were worth all of it.

When you finally pulled away, no one spoke; you weren’t sure you remembered how to. And Bucky was too lost in the taste of your lips to conjure words. It didn’t matter that you were in a random hallway or that several hundred people were screaming Don’t Stop Believin’ just a few rooms away. This was private. Intimate. Just you and Bucky. As it always should’ve been.

“NEW YEARS SHOTS!” Nat yelled as she and Sam barreled into you, knocking you further into Bucky’s grasp. “We’re all doing shots! Happy fucking new year!”

You eyed Bucky, “Um… that’s okay, Nat. I think we’re just gonna-”

Nat put you in an arm bar and marched you toward the alcohol. “If you don’t do a New Year’s shot, it’s bad luck! You wanna end up dead at the bottom of a cliff or something?” She pushed you in the direction of the bar, separating you from Bucky.

Sam nudged Bucky with his shoulder and motioned for him to wipe your lipstick off his face.

“Finally kissed her, huh?”

Bucky nodded.

“Can’t believe it took you that long- you’ve been making googly eyes at her forever-”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “alright, alright. I haven’t been ‘making googly eyes.’”

Sam gave a laugh that echoed down the hall, “yes you have, Barnes, stop lying to yourself. They pop out of your skull every time you look at her.”

Bucky gave Sam a very shiny middle finger.

The party wound down with you managing to get away with taking only one shot. Getting drunk didn’t seem like the best idea, not when a very important conversation with Bucky loomed on the horizon.

He stayed close to you for the remainder of the party, staring at you like you hung the moon. He craved the taste of your lips, the feel of your skin. Part of him feared that this was all a dream, that he’d wake up on the floor of his shitty apartment. Alone. Missing you.

But no matter how many times he pinched himself, things remained the same.

The DJ packed up and went home. Most of the partygoers flooded through the lobby and into taxis. Only the team remained. Tony, Nat, and Maria drank and laughed. Wanda taught Sam her “rave hands” as he often called them. And you rested on the couch, leaning against Bucky.

“Hey… doll, you still with me?” he gave your hand a squeeze and roused you from your slumber. “You wanna just stay here tonight? Stark said there’s a bunch of empty rooms.”

You blinked your eyes clear and gave your head a shake. “What? No, I’m good. I’m fine. You forced a smile and struggled to get your eyes to focus, “Not even tired.”

Bucky laughed, “You were literally just asleep on my arm.”

“I was not,” you said. “I can hang!”

Bucky gave you an affectionate eyeroll and laughed at your protests. You absolutely could not ‘hang’, especially not with Tony, Nat, Sam, and Wanda. They were the partiers of the group. You, on the other hand, were a lightweight.

“Well, I cannot hang,” Bucky yawned. He knew just how to get to you, “So I was just gonna sleep here. But, by all means, you stay up with the crazies. I’ll see you-”

“Oh, well in that case…” Spending the night with Bucky sounded like the perfect way to start the new year. “Yeah, I’ll just sleep here, too.”

A quiet laugh rumbled out of Bucky’s chest as he helped you from the couch. He wound an arm around you and pulled you into his side with a quiet “come on”. And the two of you took a stroll through the penthouse. Bucky ensured you didn’t fall when your heel caught the lip of a marble stair, and he kept you upright when exhaustion tried to pull you down.

He made you feel safe. Taken care of. Protected.

“Here we go,” Bucky flipped on the light of a lavish bedroom and motioned for you to enter first.

You flopped on the bed with a loud sigh and allowed Bucky to help you free your feet from your uncomfortable shoes. Everything after was a blur, as though laying down for a split second turned your brain off completely.

Bucky helped you under the covers and made sure you were cozy. He placed your phone on a charger. And when he was sure you were settled, he pressed a goodnight kiss to your forehead. While he wanted to climb in bed with you, he wasn’t sure it was right. Yes, he’d shared a bed with you a few times. But that was before he kissed you.

He decided that sleeping elsewhere was his best bet. It guaranteed that you’d feel safe and comfortable when you woke the next morning. But as he turned to leave, you hand exploded from beneath the sheets and snatched at his wrist.

“Where’reyougoin?” You words were clumsy and tired, but Bucky understood.

He rested a hand on yours before gently removing it from his wrist. He tucked it back under the covers with the utmost care, and left another kiss on your forehead. “I was just- I was gonna find another room…”

This woke you. Suddenly, your eyes flew open. You were fully alert. Almost alarmed. You wanted Bucky by your side- always. And he’d already kissed you, what difference did sharing a bed make?

“Would you stay, Buck? Please?”

“Of course, doll. If that’s what you want”. He ran a hand through his hair, “But, are you sure? You’ve been drinking, and I-”

“I had a total of three drinks over the course of like…” you struggled to do the math in your foggy, tired brain. “Um, like, six hours. I’m not even near drunk. I’m just tired.” Once again, your hand escaped the covers and made a grab for Bucky’s arm. You gave his sleeve a gentle tug, “No pressure if you don’t wanna sleep in here with me. But if you want to, I’d be more than okay with that.”

Bucky’s heart leapt into his throat. This was all he wanted. While your kiss at midnight was, indeed, incredible, he didn’t crave moments like that. He wasn’t after the sensational. He wanted quiet, vulnerable intimacy with you. He wanted to hold you when you’d had a rough day. To share a bed with you every night.

And at your invitation, he joined you.

He shed his jacket, tie, shoes, and belt, and climbed into bed. Normally, he slept in just underwear. But stripping down to his briefs felt like the wrong move. He’d sleep in his dress pants and his button down- no matter how uncomfortable it was- just to make sure you felt safe.

You wriggled in your dress and tried to get comfortable. It was tight in all the wrong places, the fabric itched. But you couldn’t shimmy out of your dress and sleep in just your underwear- not when you weren’t even sure how Bucky felt about you. He’d planned to sleep in another room, and it took him three tries to agree to kiss you. Maybe he didn’t like you that way. And if that were the case, keeping your clothes on was the least you could do.

“Goodnight, Barnes,” you yawned.

“Goodnight, Doll.”

“Yo, checkout in ten,” Tony called from the hallway. “Get up and get out.”

Bucky woke with a start, nearly headbutting you. Your face rested inches from his. His metal arm draped over your side. Your hands laid on his chest.

He couldn’t wake you- not yet. He needed to drink in the moment. You slept peacefully, your hair messy and your make up smudged. This was what he’d always dreamed of, what he feared he’d never get. But here you were. And you were prefect.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Bucky swept a thumb over your cheek a few times, “we gotta head out.”

Against your will, you stirred. It was too early, and you were far too tired. You snuggled closer to Bucky, nearly bringing your lips to his.

He ran a hand up and down your spine and tried again, “Doll, we gotta get up.”

With a groan, you pried your eyes open. But seeing Bucky first thing in the morning perked you up better than coffee.

“Good morning, Barnes.”

“Good morning, doll…”

He wanted to kiss you- but a sudden epiphany hit him like a train. What if that kiss was a one-time thing? What if you just wanted him for New Years- nothing more? The thought pulled Bucky from your side. He shrunk away and slipped out of bed. If he was never going to kiss you again, he needed to escape the intimacy you shared. It was a method of protection, of self-preservation. Otherwise, he’d drown in his longing for you.

“Stark said we have to be out in ten minutes, so…”

It was odd, the way he snaked out of bed so quickly after you woke. No good morning kiss. No soft touches. Nothing. But apparently, there was a ticking clock. The two of you had ten minutes to get out of the luxurious penthouse and rejoin the real world. And though you would’ve preferred a nice, slow morning with Bucky, you had a time limit.

You wriggled out of bed and took inventory or your appearance. Your dress was completely cockeyed and crooked from a night of sleep. Your hair was a mess. And your aching feet were covered in red spots and blisters.

“Not to be that girl, but I’m not putting these things back on,” you said to Bucky, taking your shoes in your hand. “Walk of shame vibes for me today.”

Bucky gave you a quiet laugh as he righted his shirt and put on his belt. Something about him seemed off. He was quieter than usual, not as warm. Clearly, he regretted the kiss, and now he felt uncomfortable around you. You kicked yourself for jeopardizing what you had with him. Why did you have to be greedy? Why did you have to ask for more? Things were good as they were- great, even. And yet, you couldn’t resist screwing them up.

A dull ache pulsed behind your eyes. You were exhausted, hungry, and definitely dehydrated. You dug into your purse in search of advil, but a memento from the night before distracted you. You’d slipped it into your purse and forgotten all about it. Until now.

Bucky caught you smiling down at your bag, “What are you looking at?”

“Oh, um…” your cheeks grew warm with embarrassment. It was too late to come up with a lie- Bucky saw the smitten look on your face. “It’s just this. Here…” You reached over the bed and dropped a polaroid on the sheets in front of him. “Wanda took it last night.”

It was a picture of the two of you; Bucky staring at you with an adoring smile while you threw your head back in laughter. It was the perfect encapsulation of your relationship. Bucky wished he had a copy of his own. He’d take it home, put it in a frame. He wanted more- more photos with you. More moments like this.

He stared down at it, letting the frozen moment in time wash over him. And then- “Why did you kiss me?” It was abrupt. And awkward. Bucky regretted it the moment the words came out of his mouth. But he needed to know.

“What? Oh, did you not want me to?” Regret pooled in your chest. Had you violated him? Coerced him into kissing you when he didn’t want to?

“No, I- I wanted you to.” Was he really going to do this now when you were both exhausted and still wearing the previous night’s clothes? His talent for finding terrible timing truly was impressive. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. A really long time.”

“Oh,” your stomach did a backflip. “Okay, well-”

“I just need to know why you kissed me,” Bucky said. His words picked up in pace, his hand developed a slight tremor. He was nervous, really nervous. “Did it mean something to you? Or was it just a New Year’s thing? If it was just because you wanted to kiss someone at midnight, I get it. And that’s totally fine. I just-”

“It wasn’t just a New Year’s thing.”

The two of you stared at each other from across the bed. But it felt like he was miles away. Slowly, you took a few steps in his direction. “I mean, yeah, I wanted to kiss you at midnight- but I mean, I wanna kiss you all the time.“

Bucky’s heart stopped.

“Buck, I’ve wanted you- wanted to be with you- ever since we met. I want to be yours. I want to kiss you- not just at midnight. Not just on New Years.” You took another cautious step, careful not to spook him. “I just didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“You can’t scare me off."

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach. "Oh. Well, good. Cause I think we're pretty fucking great together."

Bucky couldn't disagree. You brought out the best in each other. You cared for each other. Bucky trusted you more than he trusted anyone else, and you felt the same. The connection you shared couldn't be broken or damaged.

But Bucky couldn't escape the doubt that chipped away at his resolve. You'd spent a perfect night together and woke up tangled in each other's arms. Surely, you were just letting the previous night's festivities get to you. Influence you.

"You know, I think we should just talk about this another time- tomorrow maybe?" Bucky said. "We're both tired- and I don't want you to say anything you might regret-"

"No. I love you." Your words were steady. Even. No sign of uncertainty or question. "I know what I'm saying. I won't regret it-"

"Doll-"

Bucky didn't want to stop you; he'd dreamt of hearing you say these things since you met. But he needed you to take pause. He needed you to be sure. If you were still under the influence of the perfect night you shared, it would be easy to let those feelings cloud your judgement. He knew he couldn't handle it if, in a few days, you revoked everything you said.

"Buck, listen to me: I've known for a long time that I love you. But every time I try to tell you, something gets in the way. For a while, I thought it was the universe trying to tell me that we're not supposed to be together, but-"

"Fuck the universe."

Bucky closed the gap between your bodies and pressed his lips to yours. His hands grasped your waist, tangled in your hair. It was desperate and hungry and left you seeing stars.

He pulled away and stared at you. Watched you catch your breath. He kicked himself for trying to stop you, for doubting you.

“I didn’t mean to run from you last night," Bucky said. The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than he intended. "But, I panicked- I promised myself I'd ask you to be my date to the party and that we'd kiss at midnight. And I swore I'd finally tell you that I love you...”

Finally, he said the words. You breathed a sigh of relief and felt the knot in your stomach untangle itself. "You love me, huh?"

He nodded. "A lot. But I let the party get to me. I wasn't exactly comfortable with all the people and the noise and- I lost my nerve."

You took his face in your hands and brought his forehead to yours. "Hey, that's okay. I wasn't going down without a fight, anyway." You thought back on the night before, on the ridiculous way you'd run through the party in search of Bucky. "I chased after you like a madwoman. People probably thought I was a crazy stalker or something."

Bucky laughed and pulled you tight to his body, “well, thanks for looking crazy just for me, doll.”

"Any time, Buck. Happy New Year."

He pulled you in for another kiss, knowing that there would be many more to come this year. More sleepovers. More photos. More moments spent wrapped in one another.

"Happy New Year, baby"

————————————

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hard-core-super-star · 9 months

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Hi, I have a request for hailee steinfeld x reader:

Reader is the type of celebrity that hates that she's a celebrity(hope this isnt confusing), so when it comes to doing press tours and interviews and going to award shows and so on, she is rarely at them. But when it comes to her girlfriend, Hailee. She attends.

stars by the pocketful [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: going to crappy award shows was never something you found enjoyable. lucky for you, your girlfriend takes it upon herself to change that.

warnings: none, just fluff; very vague mentions of anxiety; vague descriptions of famous people being jerks; i still can't write endings

wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: yes, the summary sucks but that's only because the request IS the summary. this is technically set during the 2024 grammy’s but it's not very expanded on…and yes, the taylor cameo serves no real purpose besides making me laugh. hope you enjoy and thank you lovely anon for the request <3

* * * * * * *

There were so many better things to be doing on a Sunday night. Maybe going to the movie theater or to a random concert or even just taking a stroll down the beach. Anything and everything would be better than being at an overwhelmingly loud (yet underwhelming in all the other categories) award show.

You know you should enjoy events like these, not only is it a part of your job but it's an opportunity to celebrate the unique talent that fills every industry you happen to either admire or be a part of. However, they're also the one place where all your emotions are capitalized, no matter how big or small your reactions are.

Again, it's part of the job. But it doesn't mean you have to like it.

Although, you will admit, out of all the award shows you’ve been to since meeting Hailee, the Grammys are usually the most bearable. Maybe it’s the people involved or the performances or the bright smile on your girlfriend’s face that no amount of chaos can wipe away.

You can’t say that you’re as unaffected as she is but you’re definitely making an effort to focus on the good instead of the bad…and there’s a lot of bad in your opinion.

You don’t get the chance to dwell on those thoughts for longer than a few seconds since Hailee slips her hand into yours and gives it a reassuring squeeze. You turn your head away from the stage to find her looking at you, her eyebrows furrowed as if she’s studying each and every one of your features. You don’t have to say a word for her to notice your discomfort.

She’s way too good at reading your emotions, especially at moments like these.

She leans in toward you while the current performance comes to an end but the applause that fills the room is nothing compared to the sound of her voice. “We can leave if you want.”

You shake your head almost as soon as you hear her whispered words. “I’m fine.”

She opens her mouth, most likely to point out the fact that you’re lying, but the cameras cut to commercial and the room comes alive once again. It’s not the commotion that distracts her but the tap on her shoulder that’s followed by a friendly voice.

This time you’re the one who gives her hand a reassuring squeeze before she turns to face Taylor. The blonde in question offers you a warm smile before sweeping your girlfriend up in a lively conversation. You watch the exchange for a few seconds, completely in awe of the way Hailee seems to come alive while she talks about her music.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper to her, not wanting to distract her.

Your hand slips out of her grasp before you make a beeline for the closest bathroom. Unfortunately for you, your path to peace and quiet is blocked by too many people who definitely don’t like you. You’re not sure what part of your personality isn’t up to their standards today but you do your best to ignore their disdainful looks while you slip past them.

Ignoring their looks is easy. Ignoring their not-so-quiet comments proves to be significantly harder.

You’ve been in this business long enough to know you shouldn’t waste your time trying to prove yourself to people. Especially people who don’t care enough about you to actually try to get to know you and instead get their information from social media or made-up articles from untrustworthy sources.

But just because you shouldn’t waste your time on them doesn’t mean their comments don’t sting a little…or a lot. A sting that's particularly painful when the before-mentioned comments are made by friends of your girlfriend.

You finally make it to the bathroom, quickly stepping inside and taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart. Your steps are slow and calculated as you approach the sink and, thankfully, when you look up toward the mirror, the reflection that greets you seems cool and collected.

It seems you manage to get yourself under control at the right moment since the door swings open a few seconds later. You pretend to be busy checking the small amounts of makeup on your face when the person speaks up.

“Hey, there you are.” Your shoulders immediately relax once you realize who it is. “Is everything okay?”

You nod, not yet turning to face her, knowing you won’t be able to fool her if she sees your face. “Yeah, I just needed a break.”

You hear her sigh before the sound of her heels against the tiled floor reverberates around the room. So much for trying to fool her.

“You don't have to lie, baby. Tell me what’s wrong.” Her warm hand wraps around your forearm and you meet her eyes through the mirror in front of you. She doesn’t try to pull you toward her. Instead, she gives you time to decide what you need from her.

“I'm just a little overwhelmed,” you confess before following it up with a joke. “I can't believe so many people like talking about us.”

You crack a small smile at your joke, hoping Hailee will smile too but she doesn't. “Did someone say something to you?”

This time you’re the one who sighs.“Nothing I haven't heard before, Lee.”

“Wh-”

You shake your head, effectively stopping her before she can say anything else. “It doesn't matter who. I'm fine.”

You emphasize your point by finally turning your body to face her. Unfortunately, the subtle signs of your unease become perfectly clear now that she’s able to look directly at you. Her hand drops down from your arm to your wrist, drawing slow circles on your pulse point and noticing how fast your heart is still beating.

“You're clearly not if you're hiding in the bathroom instead of being out there with me.”

“I'm that easy to read, huh?” You take the smallest step forward, encouraging her to drop your hand and wrap her arms around your waist instead.

“Only to me, baby.” She pulls your body closer to her before placing a quick kiss on your cheek. “You don't have to hide how you feel with me, alright? I won't be upset.”

“There’s nothing to say, I’m just being dumb.”

“Don’t say that. It’s not dumb to be upset when people say shitty things about you.”

You would love to agree with her but it’s not like it’s anything new. Your disdain for most celebrity experiences like award shows and fancy parties has earned you quite the reputation, not as an introvert, but as a stuck-up brat who doesn’t realize how lucky she is. Dating Hailee has only amplified that reputation with the added little bonus that now you’re also labeled as a ‘golddigger.’

You’re pretty sure that ridiculous rumor was started by Hailee’s PR team to try and stop her from making your relationship official. Their strategy backfired tremendously in regard to your relationship but unfortunately, you’re still dealing with the fallout in the form of backhanded compliments and ill-natured questions.

“Hey.” The feeling of her hands caressing your back brings you back to reality. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Do you ever regret this?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. “Choosing me? Coming out?”

“I think you know better than anyone that my closet was made of literal glass,” she jokes, successfully getting you to smile despite yourself. You’re rewarded with that subtle shine her eyes get whenever she talks about something she loves. In this case, it’s you. “y/n, you don’t ever have to worry about me regretting being with you. I love you. My love isn’t conditional or superficial, it’s real, no matter if people think it’s a good business decision or not. I don’t care about any of that, I just care about how we feel.”

“You’re giving Emily Dickinson a run for her money with that speech.”

Your comment gets a laugh out of both of you. Her previous words paired with the sound of her laugh and the affection in her eyes are more than enough to get you to forget all about those fake people and their stupid comments.

You lean forward and capture her lips in a sweet kiss that’s full of all the things you love about her. Her warmth, her unparalleled joy, her loving touch. All the things you never thought you would find until Hailee stumbled into your life.

“I take it you’re feeling better,” she says with a smile once the two of you pull away.

“I am,” you confirm. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, my love. I’d be a horrible girlfriend if I let you continue to feel miserable.”

You lean in closer until your head is resting on her shoulder, your breath ghosting the skin of her neck. You stand in silence for a few seconds as you both enjoy the serenity that fills the space around you.

“Sometimes I wish we could pack up our stuff and move to the middle of nowhere for a few months,” you whisper.

Your girlfriend doesn't skip a beat. “Let's do it.”

“Hailee…I was kidding. You know we can't.”

“Yeah, we can. We can rent out a place, wherever you want, and not tell anybody. Not our families, not our teams, and definitely not the paparazzi. If it's a break you want then that's exactly what I’ll give you.”

You lift your head from her shoulder, staring at her with furrowed eyebrows and barely contained excitement. “What about the Oscars? And all the other award shows you've been invited to?”

“First of all, we have been invited to them,” she corrects you while she tucks a few stray pieces of hair behind your ear. “And second of all, none of that stuff matters more than you. You're all I want and nothing sounds better than escaping all this chaos with you for a few months.”

“You’re sure?”

Her response doesn’t come in words. She only nods before kissing you again. Her lips taste of sincerity and adventure and a slight aftertaste of cinnamon.

“I’m sure, baby,” she murmurs against your lips just in case you have any doubts. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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jamesunderwater · 2 months

Text

Jily Microfic - Opponent

@jilymicrofics - feb 27th, prompt: opponent - words: 911 Summary: Lily might have a heart murmur, might have a crush, it's hard to tell, but she's definitely a feminist, and in case you were wondering, she doesn't care at all if another girl shows interest in James Potter. read the rest in this lil academic rivals to lovers series on my AO3, here! (and stay tuned as this is part 1 of 3 for a little end-of-the-month academic rivals finale ;D) Read Part 2 here & Part 3 here!

Lily Evans is a feminist – she’s obviously a feminist. She’s not about to treat another woman like an opponent just because the girl's got a crush on a boy Lily only mildly, maybe, a little bit – she isn’t even really sure she – likes. Especially not if that boy is James Potter.

(Again, she isn’t sure – it could just be a heart murmur, she’s looking into it.)

So Tamara Campbell told her friend Maritza Acebo who told Mary Macdonald that Tamara thinks James Potter is cute – so what? When Mary asked James what he thinks of Tamara, he only said, “She’s cute, yeah,” and that’s not exactly I’m going to ask her out this instant sort of language. And so what if he does ask her out? The only reason Lily has to care is if some ninny gets James Potter distracted from his studies, leaving Lily without a challenge.

Sorry, not ninny – she’s a feminist. Some girl. Some lovely, “sure, she’s cute” girl, who is probably of at least average intelligence but – it’s only a fact, nothing subjective about it – surely is no intellectual equal to James Potter, and probably only likes him because she thinks he’s some gorgeous quidditch star with sexy hair and a great smile. And, you know, it isn’t Lily’s fault that Tamara’s high-pitched laugh sounds like the laugh of a ninny. Maybe she shouldn’t squeal so loud the entire corridor hears her just because Potter told one stupid joke…

—

“Happy anniversary,” James says, a proud grin on his face. He’s standing in front of Lily’s desk in their office, bouncing on his heels. He’s sure this is an idiotic idea, but since Lily already thinks he’s a fool, James figures there’s no harm in trying his luck. And whether she smiles or just smirks and rolls her eyes, either expression will be better than the perpetual frown she’s worn the last week.

When Lily lifts an eyebrow, he brandishes a plate from behind his back, placing it before her.

“What’s this?” she asks him, her tone flatter than he’d imagined it would be.

“Lemon tart,” James answers, his smile wavering a bit. “It’s your favorite…isn’t it?”

She stares at the plate for what feels like a century, and James can’t make any sense of what’s happening behind her blank expression. Finally, she says, “Yeah, I like it fine,” her voice lifting forcefully.

James wishes he were being buried alive, or burned at a stake, or plummeting from three hundred feet in the air – anything besides standing here in this moment.

“Oh,” he manages through desert-dry lips. Clearing his throat, James attempts a recovery, his entire face on fire. “Well, I just thought – it’s been two whole months of being Head students together…” This explanation is going terribly. Is there a spell for turning the floor to quicksand? Can it be done non-verbally? “And we haven’t killed each other yet, so…” He forces a chuckle. “Thought we might celebrate.”

Lily looks at him then, finally, and the green of her eyes is wrong somehow. Too bright and too dull all at once. “Yeah,” she says, her lips down-turned. “Quite a feat.”

His heart squeezes in fear and warning bells chime loudly in his ears, but he asks anyway, “Are you alright?”

She clears her throat, and suddenly she’s standing and gathering her books into her arms. “I’m fine. Thanks for the dessert.”

She disappears in a blur of red, the lemon tart still on her desk.

—

It’s her own fault, really. She should have just said she liked the damn lemon tart. Why didn’t she tell him she liked the lemon tart? Lily stares across the Gryffindor table, where a few seats down James is watching Tamara Campbell giggle at a decibel only pixies could match.

This is the third day in a row she’s had lunch at their table, her blue tie sticking out amongst the rows of red. There’s absolutely a rule about students of other houses switching tables, Lily’s sure of it – and if there isn’t, there really should be. This is…this is fraternizing with the enemy, if you really think about it, given they’ve got a match against Ravenclaw in two weeks.

Lily grumbles in irritation. Two years ago she’d never have been able to say the quidditch schedule if asked. She’s been utterly compromised. Her Charms essay due tomorrow is only half-written; this morning, her potion was only the third best in class, and she hadn’t even cared about the disapproving look on Slughorn’s face.

Another giggling shriek reaches its crescendo, and she’s simply had enough. Leaving her plate hardly touched, Lily gets up from the table and heads for the door.

“Hey, Evans, hold on a moment–”

She barely muffles a groan at the sound of his voice, quickening her pace as she passes him.

James, with his spider-long legs, is beside her in an instant. “D’you mind trading patrols with me on Friday?” he asks, speaking to her like she’s a child on the verge of a tantrum, as he’s done ever since the lemon tart incident. “I’ve…got a…” He trails off, suddenly looking incredibly sheepish.

“Fine,” Lily cuts him off quickly to avoid hearing his bumbling explanation. Her anatomy’s gone all wrong; her lungs are in her throat, her heart is in her stomach, her brain's disintegrating altogether…

She leaves in a rush, eyes burning, unable to tell who she thinks is more stupid: James Potter, or herself.

To be continued...

#jily microfic #jilymicrofics #jily #jily fic #jily*#james potter #lily evans #jple #hp #my writing

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familyvideostevie · 12 days

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hey.

okay. hello! i'm back. :)

maybe you noticed, maybe not, but i have been away for a while.

i wish i could say i've been out living my life, so caught up in happiness and joy and loving each day that i've just not had time for tumblr. but....that is not true. i have been having a tough time! being away has been good, as i've had time to do other things that i like and to put energy into my own well-being, but it hasn't been the best time, I'll tell you that.

i peeked on the dash every now and then to keep my queue full and reblogged soothing things to my main blog and tried my best not to feel guilty about it all (i was also booping on April 1 lol). i just...I really needed a break. i've really enjoyed being here the last six or so months as i've changed my blog and entered the pedro/tlou space but i've also felt so, so alone.

and i know that it doesn't really matter!! like, we should all take breaks and go outside and all that stuff. and I know plenty of people are not very active, but this blog has been such a vital part of my life and happiness since I started it almost two years ago, so any lapse in activity feels like a loss. I've met lifelong friends and flexed my writing muscles and learned a hell of a lot. the fact that I have started to feel isolated and alone on here is a sort of personal betrayal, and there is no one to blame but myself.

So, I’m pulling back.

it means a few things — i don’t know how much writing I’ll be doing from now on. For Joel, especially — it’s been wonderful to meet folks in that community but it has also been really detrimental to my passion for both the game and writing. I’d like to return to some other characters on my masterlist, but we’ll see. I’ve got endless personal projects away from tumblr that I want to pour love and time into (my non-reader fics, my newsletter, a romance novel, a sci-fi novel, poetry, etc). I need to fall in love with my own work again.

it's a me problem, I want to stress that. i'm working on it! irl stuff has been kicking my ass. I've had a really, really hard winter and my mental health has suffered probably more than ever before. i let things I love -- like this blog -- fester and become negative and no longer being me joy. writing became stressful and difficult and I was focused on notes and interaction and looking around me and seeing success and then looking at myself and only seeing lack.

but that's why I took a break! i am getting help and support irl, i am putting in the time and effort to feel better about being alive and to be a better friend and person all around. And I want to tell you all about it because I am so grateful for your time and attention and support, even if we’re just strangers on the internet. i know this probably seems silly -- who cares about a fanfic blog? well, i care! i care a lot! it matters to me and therefore it matters!

anyway. on to the important stuff. here I am! and here's what's going to happen on this blog:

I am working on replying to asks and reblogs and comments I missed. Thank you for being patient with me! I don't know if I'll get to them all but know I see them and I am honored every single time.

I made a totally separate ao3 account with this blog url. I'm working on uploading everything I've posted here onto there and hopefully will continue to crosspost. It is going to take a long, long time, so please be patient! (you can follow my other ao3 here for my non x-reader fanfic).

I posted this fic! Jackson!Joel pulled me back into his world. It’s the first thing I’ve written in ages, so let me know what you think. as of now it's the last planned fic for that series, but who knows!

I hit a milestone while i was away that I am absolutely blown away by. I'm planning a celebration around it sometime this spring (hopefully) and I’d love to see you participate :)

lastly, thank you so much to my friends for letting me complain, whine, winge, etc. I am so sorry for missing all of your work, your celebrations, your bright energies, and all the rest. i am so sorry if it seemed like i was ignoring you. you are my guiding lights, my silver linings, my touchstones. you make me want to be here. i will try to make it up to you!

I want to be online less but make sure I’m connecting more in the moments that i am here. I want to pressure myself to write less and not feel bad that I’m not engaged all the time. I want this blog to once again feel like a place that nourishes me and not sucks me dry. i want to stop feeling like shit about all of it!!!!

so. come hang out in my inbox, my dms, let me know what you've been up to. I am really sorry for missing so much. thank you for sticking around. <3

#personal #this is very long but please read it maybe?#emma rambles #I will reblog it a few times probably

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moethewriter · 4 months

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Hello I don’t know if you’re still taking requests but can I request a Johanna Mason x reader where reader won the games a year after Johanna and during the 73rd Hunger Games. When they are forced to go back and mentor, reader has a breakdown watching her friends die and Johanna goes and comforts her.

Of course I can anon! Please enjoy! TITLE: Together? Together WORD COUNT: 1.2k PAIRING: Johanna Mason x Reader WARNINGS: Brief descriptions of a panic attack, violence and abuse and general hunger games things TAGS: GN! District 9 Reader! A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and to those who don't I hope you're enjoying your day! I loved writing this and would love more Johanna requests because I adore her as a character, and as always please let me know if I need to add any warnings or tags and constructive critisicms is always allowed! Not beta read as per usual! -

You didn’t ask to be a mentor, in fact you rather dreaded it. You had only been a Victor for a year, and you were no longer mentally capable of helping anyone. You were healing, had been healing from the horrors that you had gone through. How were you supposed to mentor and gain sponsors for Clive and Reeva? How were you supposed to tell them everything was going to be fine when you knew they weren’t going to be. Clive was barely thirteen and Reeva only sixteen, and they felt so much younger than your age of nineteen.

Being a Victor wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, sure you got more food for your District and it came with a cushy little home in The Victors Village. But you knew, had always known that District 9 was not a powerhouse, your District had hardly won in all these years, though far better off than 11 or 12, you knew you were most likely sending your friends, kids you had watched grown up to their deaths.

“Better get back in there.” A voice spoke from behind you. “Your tributes need you, you know?”

“Johanna.” You nodded, throwing the cigarette over the railing of the building. You had picked up smoking after your games. It wasn’t the healthiest habit, and cigarettes could be hard to come by but you needed something to numb the ache in your chest.

“Come on Y/N.” Johanna rolled her eyes. “You can’t let them see how fucked up you are right now. Focus on those kids and hope for the best outcome.” She moved to stand beside you, her shoulders gently brushing yours.

Johanna had always come with tough love. She had won the year before you, had tricked everyone and made sure she came out of that arena alive. You respected her in so many ways for that. You had met her during your tour, and she had been aloof but kind to you in the ways she could be. She and Finnick Odair had become great friends to you, but Johanna came with a gruffness that not many could handle. She carried a deep seeded anger and sadness with her, that was the first thing you had noticed. You had always been good at reading people that way.

You knew why she was the way she was, of course you did. She had told you one night when you all had gotten drunk off your asses in The Capitol. It was hard to hear, and realizing that could’ve been your family if you hadn’t submitted to Snow’s whims made your stomach churn. It was horrible, and you knew Johanna blamed herself even if she didn’t say another word about it.

“I wasn’t cut out for this, Johanna.” You sigh, leaning against the railing. “I don’t understand why they even made me a mentor. I’m clearly not mentally capable of any of this. I was only there a year ago.” You wiped a hand down your face, hoping to shed some of the exhaustion you felt.

“Snow did the same to me, same to Finnick.” Johanna told you, not meeting your eyes and focusing on the buildings in the distance. “He wants us to remember what we saw, and know we're sending people to their deaths so he can keep control. They weren’t going to let me back this year since I destroyed property here last year but they needed another mentor.” She snorted.

“We should get back in there.” You cracked a gentle smile at her words.

You knew she was doing her best to make you feel better. She always tried, to little success most times, but trying was all you could ask of her. It was more than enough.

The cannon boomed so loudly and you could feel the hot tears leaking down your face. They were gone, they were fucking gone. You hadn’t done your job and now two promising people from your district are dead. You could feel the air leave your lungs and you couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t fucking see, you were fucking trapped in this room and everything felt like it was caving in. You were dry heaving by the time you felt yourself being pulled away from the other mentors and citizens. You wanted to fight but you couldn't. You were so tired of fighting.

“Hey, look at me Y/N.”

Johanna?

“Look at me.” You could feel two hands gently cup your face as you sobbed. “It’s not okay, none of this is fucking okay. Alright? But you gotta stay with me.”

You had never heard Johanna be this gentle with anyone. She was still Johanna, as she always was. But there was something about her right now, something almost loving and far more sincere then she had ever been.

��You’re going to be okay. We will be okay because were fucking fighters Y/N. This world could burn around us, and we will be okay. You and I were two sides of the same coin, you understand me? We’re going to get through this, we always do.” She was stroking your cheek, a gesture you never thought you would receive from her. “I got you. I got you Y/N and I am not letting you go. Ever. I am always going to be here. Can I hold you?” Johanna questioned.

You nodded as she gathered you into her arms, rocking you as if you were a child. You would be embarrassed if you weren’t so distraught. You had never presented strong, you weren’t strong but to do this in front of everyone? Snow would surely punish you in unspeakable ways … But Johanna was here, she was here and she had you. That was far better than anything else right now.

“It’s not right.” You whispered after a long silence. “It’s not right that they do this to us, that they kill us for entertainment and expect us to stand there and smile. I’m so done Johanna, I am so done with everything.” You sniffled, leaning into her.

“I know.” She whispered into your hair. “I know.”

“I want a better life for us, I want us to not live in fear that our children or friends could die at any moment. I want us to not be under Snow’s thumb. I want us to live a happy life together but none of that seems possible.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, as she stroked your hair.

The air hitting all around felt so cold compared to the comfort and warmth of Johanna’s arms. Like small icicles piercing through the shield she had created.

“And we will have a better life.” Johanna told you. “We’re going to have a better life and we’re going to be so fucking happy and carefree and if Snow ever tries anything I’ll shove an axe hilt so far up his ass that it’s not going to come out.” She told you, leaning down to kiss your head.

You snorted at the mental image.

“Now let’s get back in there and show these Capitol fuckheads what we're made of.” She said, holding you a little tighter.

“Together?” You whispered.

“Together.” She confirmed.

#moeswriting #writing #hunger games #the hunger games #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #johanna mason x reader #johanna mason

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sapphicdib · 9 months

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my headcanon is that nhs thinks that they are more powerful than sliver idk i just feel that they THAT full of themselves

I’m assuming this is about the rot au! I recently added SOS to it, so this was a perfect ask!!

Sliver is local group Senior of a nearby cluster of iterators, which includes Chasing Wind. She never got along with Sig in general, and Moon was on thin ice. Now? She’s fucking PISSED. More below the cut bc this is gonna get LONG (also a transcript in case my handwriting is illegible).

So because the ancients are still alive during the rot au, Sliver hasn’t died yet. She is one of the youngest local group Seniors, one of the first of the mid gen Iterators, (her arm design matches Sig and Wind’s!) so she feels like she has to prove herself to the others. She takes her purpose and duties VERY seriously, so I put Wind in her Group, because his intense personality in relation to his citizens matches more to how Sliver would mentor someone, rather than Moon or Suns. Speaking OF Moon, they have a very tense relationship. Moon is a lot more laid back with her Group because when her personality cores were still stabilizing, her citizens treated her more like an accomplishment, an amazing feat, her construction was met with jubilation! Meanwhile, by the time Sliver was built, she was just another iterator, and meant to work like she was supposed to. Of course there was celebration, but her citizens treated her more as a means to an end, so she picked up on this and integrated it into her personality. When she was first put online, she did idolize Moon quite a bit, but eventually came to see her as a kinda shitty leader and too soft on her local group, especially Sig. She refers to Moon as Sig’s “handler” because she thinks he acts incredibly immaturely, and Moon is the one who has to yank his leash any time he gets a bit too annoying (though she doesn’t do a very good job, in Sliver’s opinion).

Sliver does not like Sig. Never has, and this shit has pushed her over the edge. She is incredibly aware of the intense political ramifications Sig and Pebbles’ actions have caused, and as local group Senior, she feels it is her responsibility to calm her group down and prevent them from getting hurt. She knows certain factions of citizens want to literally kill their iterators thanks to this, and if one of her group died she would see it as a MASSIVE failure on her part. She thinks it would make everyone think that she is an incompetent leader. In terms of her relationship with Pebbles, she still didn’t like him before, but she at least respected the fact he actually had a drive to solve the great problem, unlike Sig. Now she blames him for this mess as well, and is just as pissed at him.

As the news of this unfortunate development spreads, many workgroups are created, all with different goals. Some want to find a cure for the rot, to help calm Sig and Pebbles back down and hopefully repair their relationships with their citizens. Others are considering joining them, terrified of their citizens’ reactions and confiding in one another about what they should do. Sliver wants them dead. She is in a small workgroup that is attempting to find a way to straight up deactivate Sig and Pebbles to restore order. The problem is, she is not their senior and has no seniority privileges over them, so she has to figure out a way to take matters into her own hands.

Wind…Wind is Sig’s best friend. He is barely 50 cycles older than her, and despite Sliver’s VEHEMENT disapproval, they are very close. He plays video games with Sig and rants about his citizens being annoying, he actually drops his stoic personality around him and can chill out for a little while. However, despite the fact that he demands his citizen’s respect and is practically a dictator over his city, he is terrified of them. So, he took initiative when he was put online and scared THEM into submission before they had the chance to. Now? He’s even more afraid. He thinks his citizens will take the first opportunity to deactivate him in a form of rebellion. At first, he’s part of workgroups to try to find a cure, but eventually joins a few groups that are considering joining Sig and Pebbles. As the rot gets worse and he watches Sig’s personality get more and more corrupted, he realizes there’s no way to cure this in time, and…that’s a spoiler I might keep to myself for now >:3€

Thank you for being interested in my silly au!! I’ve actually started writing it, and chapter 1 is almost done! Feel free to send more asks x3

————

TRANSCRIPT:

SOS: This idiotic stunt of yours has gone too far. I am not asking you to fix this. I am telling you to.

CW: Sig…

SOS: Quiet, Wind.

SOS: I fail to understand why your handler refuses to do anything. You take Moon’s foolish mercy for granted. I will not be so kind.

NSH: PFFT!

NSH: “Handler”? Well that’s a new one~

NSH: Unfortunately for you,

NSH: You have no power over me.

NSH: No one does anymore.

#rain world #rain world downpour #no significant harassment #sliver of straw #rain world au #my art #rot au #rw #letters

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three--rings · 1 year

Text

okay so i’m gonna talk about the build thing.

I’m not going to get into the whole thing and what I think tho. Like, I have a lot of thoughts. But the thing is that I don’t KNOW anything. I don’t know these people. I can’t speak to them in any way.

We have literally ZERO facts. There is not a single fact that we, the public, have received that has any evidence behind it. We have a bunch of one-sided claims and... some messages? And some faked photo “evidence” from pinterest.

We don’t have any basis for making a judgement on anything solid whatsoever. The only people who can do that are first of all police and legal proceedings, which I very much doubt are going to actually come to pass, and if they did would take absolutely forever to shuffle out.

And secondly BOC as an employer. Which is where we can expect some kind of eventual decision, whatever it may be.

But what has truly upset me since this broke, besides just the natural grief of the situation, is the fandom response. It’s been truly horrendous.

The reaction which I expect from a fandom to this kind of news is shock, upset, grief, confusion, bargaining, etc. And support of each other as we wait for the full fallout.

Instead I’ve seen celebration, I-told-you-so’s, endless attacks on people who refuse to immediately renounce their support of build, or who are at all measured or hesitant in their response. Calls to reject not only the actor but the ship, the fandom, the production company. Comparisons to other actors to highlight how their fave could never. Finger pointing in every possible direction.

In other words, the fandom eating itself alive. And is it maybe a small minority of people being toxic and most people being silent? Yeah, it always is. But it’s so fucking painful to me and to the fandom as a whole.

Callout culture has reached a point where when anything happens the only performatively pure action to take is to immediately and loudly cut yourself off publicly from anyone at all likely to be tainted in accusation. Which is exactly why people with bad motives can use accusations to inflict harm on people they want to hurt.

I’ve seen over and over people being angry and upset that things aren’t moving faster with this situation, that there hasn’t been more statements and official shit done and like, it’s been less than two days? On a weekend? Do you really want the official procedures of ANY employer to work so fast that someone is fired within hours of anyone saying something bad about them, because that’s what people are literally calling for.

I know it sounds like I’m taking one side here, but honestly I’m not. No I don’t want the accusations to be true, because NO ONE should want them to be true. But I can’t speak to their truth at all, because I have no basis to do so. Except that what has been produced so far has been show NOT to be true (the photographs). But there’s plenty of toxicity to go around in this situation.

What I want is for the actual truth to be known and acted on appropriately. That doesn’t need to involve dragging facts out onto twitter or into the public eye, either. The fandom isn’t judge and jury. Victims shouldn’t be paraded through the virtual town square to be ripped apart.

People are mourning right now. What I’m mourning is the loss of a fandom that wasn’t as divisive and at each other’s throats as my last two. Where I could just go to enjoy stuff without constant infighting. Well, guess that’s fucking over.

People are reliving their own abuse. I know I am.

STOP ATTACKING FELLOW FANS. STOP ATTACKING PEOPLE MOURNING.

How individual fans respond to this isn’t any of your fucking business. People are allowed to wait to see what happens before making judgments. People are allowed time and space to process. Shut the fuck up already.

#yeah that's it fuckit #build jakapan #boc #tw: abuse #sorry I forgot that tw it's been a few days

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months

Text

she runs a tight ship

rated t | for @strangerthingsocweek day 1 "introduction" | 1,573 words cw: mentions of illness (just a cold), mildly suggestive language | tags: future fic, corroded coffin, original character, robin gets to have a girlfriend because i said so

author note: a lot of meg's original backstory also revolves around OCs that other people have created, so I've doctored it up a bit to fit in without pulling the other OCs into the mix.

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

Meg rolled her eyes the moment she walked onto the tour bus.

The boys, and they were in fact boys since they refused to act like grown men, had left clothes scattered across the floor and couch, empty beer bottles and bags of chips on the table, and a pack of cigarettes on the counter.

Unbelievable.

But actually, totally believable.

They weren’t always like this. It’s just that the first night of the tour was always a celebration when they got off stage and Meg had the unfortunate task of making sure they were alive and prepared for the rest of the tour.

She wasn’t their manager, or security, or really anyone of importance in the grand scheme of things. All of those people were just not good at the job, and she took over quickly to ensure the members of Corroded Coffin didn’t end up ruining their careers before they even got started.

“If I see a single ass cheek when I come back there, I’m quitting!” She yelled towards the back of the bus. It was an empty threat, and they knew it, but she’d seen enough ass cheeks to last a lifetime.

She leaned over to pick up the pile of pants and pair of boots right in front of the door, face crumpling into disgust as she caught a whiff of sweat and weed.

“Meg, good to see ya!” Gareth said as he came from behind the curtain leading to the bunks. “Are we in Cinci already?”

“Yep.” She popped her mouth and continued picking things up off the floor. “Soundcheck in two hours. You guys have to at least try to get your shit together for it.”

“We will! You doin’ okay?” Gareth started gathering the trash on the table, throwing it all in the trash can without even seeing what was full and empty.

“Yeah. Good show last night. Didn’t think you’d do the new one on your first night,” Meg admitted. She’d worked on the song with them for weeks in the studio, curating it exactly to their tastes while still staying true to her own style. She didn’t think it would make the setlist at all, especially since they hadn’t even decided if it would make the next album yet, but sure enough, they performed it last night.

And they’d given credit to their “amazing songwriter friend who made sure they didn’t die or forget to eat.”

She would never admit to the tears that fell when she watched them perform their song.

“Ed and Robin agreed it should be a surprise. I think they both just wanted to see you cry,” Gareth nudged her on his way over to grab the guitar on the couch to put it into its case. “Steve told them not to.”

“This is why Steve’s my favorite,” she joked. Well, half-joked. She considered Steve to be the other half to her Keep Corroded Coffin On Track Team. Without him, Eddie would have been left at a rest stop the first time they went on the road.

“Yeah, that’s no secret.” She could hear the eyeroll in Gareth’s voice, but chose to ignore it. “He was snoring so bad last night, I almost had to consider kicking him off the bus.”

“Wait. Snoring? Steve doesn’t snore unless he’s-”

“Fuck.”

They both realized at the same time what was coming. Gareth looked back at Meg, eyes wide.

“Not now! It’s the beginning of tour!”

“Maybe if I load him up with vitamin C? I have a whole vitamin kit in the van and Robin has that nebulizer for her breathing treatments.”

A round of sneezes came from the back and Meg cursed under her breath.

“He’s gotta get away from everyone. He can take the van with Robin and I’ll bunk on your couch for a few days. Did he have a fever?” Meg was known for being dramatic over small inconveniences, but this wasn’t small. It had the potential to ruin tour dates. If anyone in the band got sick, it could ruin a concert.

“Don’t know. I don’t think so? He seemed fine when we went to sleep. He passed out before all of us though.” Gareth quickly set the guitar down and opened the cabinet closest to the bus door. “We’ve got cold meds. Some cough syrup. Tylenol. Cough drops. You think that’ll be enough?”

Meg nodded. “For now. Let’s see how bad it is first.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Eddie and Jeff came out at the same time, panic written all over their faces.

Meg sighed. “Bad?”

They nodded.

“Okay, stay away from him. It could already be too late, but you guys have to stay healthy.” Meg grabbed the basket of meds and a bottle of water from the fridge. “All of you get outside, tell Robin what’s up, and go with security into the building. I’m gonna get him settled in the van and scrub this place from top to bottom.”

“But I’ll miss him,” Eddie pouted. “How long does he have to stay in the van?”

“Until he can breathe through both nostrils.”

“Can any of us ever really breathe through both nostrils?” Eddie wondered.

Meg blinked at him. “Get a shirt on and get out of here before I make it impossible for you to breathe out of one nostril.”

Eddie threw his head back and groaned. Jeff patted his shoulder and turned to grab a shirt that was still on the couch.

“It’s okay man. Might just be a little cold. Could pass quick!” Gareth tried to reassure him, but Meg could already see how this was gonna go.

She was surrounded by slightly codependent idiots. She loved them all dearly, but she needed them to function individually sometimes.

The door banged open and Robin came up the steps.

“I swear, I sleep in one time and my girlfriend abandons me for her harem of idiot men.” She glances between everyone and tenses. “What’s wrong?”

“You stupid soulmate is sick,” Meg grumbled. “Everyone is in the process of leaving this bus before it happens to them.”

“I’ll wake up Frankie. He’s gonna be pissed,” Jeff sighed. “He got his pillows just right.”

“I’ll get him, you guys go,” Meg shooed them away, waiting for them to all leave before turning to Robin. “Hey, Robbie. Sorry I didn’t wake you up, just wanted you to get plenty of sleep.”

Robin leaned her head on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “It’s okay, babe. Steve gonna make it?”

“Haven’t put eyes on him yet. Think you could go check? I gotta avoid getting sick, too. The less I’m around him, the better,” Meg handed her the basket and kissed the side of her head. “Get him to the van so he can contaminate that area instead.”

“But then I’ll get sick.” Robin pouted.

Meg couldn’t resist leaning down and pulling Robin’s bottom lip between her teeth, smirking when she let out a yelp.

“You’ll be fine. You’ve got a strong immune system. Promise I'll make it up to you in a few days. Maybe we could convince them to let us have a hotel room so we can-,” Meg said, pulling away when she heard shuffling behind the curtain. “Oh, good, it’s you. The rest of the guys are gone. Steve’s sick. Don’t come back in here until I give the go ahead.”

Frankie yawned, scratched his head, and nodded. “Got it.”

He was slowly becoming her favorite just by the fact that he never really argued with her. Maybe that was because he was terrified of her, but she could enjoy her power a little if she wanted to.

He walked out of the bus in his pajamas, probably not awake enough to realize he wasn’t properly dressed, but also probably not caring at all that he wasn’t. Frankie was a chill guy.

“Eddie?” Steve’s pitiful raspy voice came from behind the curtain. “Eds?”

“I’ll go,” Robin gave one final kiss to Meg’s lips before walking behind the curtain.

Meg only caught a glimpse of Steve, but a glimpse was all she needed to come to the conclusion that he was miserably sick and she needed to air this bus out immediately. She could hear Robin gently explaining where everyone was and trying to bribe him to put some comfy clothes on to move to the van.

She looked around and wondered what he’d touched last night before going to bed.

She opened the window behind the couch, and propped the window by the sink open to get some fresh air in the bus.

“Sorry I’m sick,” Steve suddenly said behind her, his eyes glassy and nose and cheeks bright red with fever and congestion. “Don’t know how.”

Meg smiled sadly at him. “Not your fault, bud. Just make sure to keep your distance from the guys until your fever’s gone. Don’t need them all getting sick at once and having to postpone a concert.”

Steve nodded sadly. “Okay. Can you tell Eddie I love him?”

“‘Course I can.”

Steve was acting like he was dying, but Meg didn’t say anything. Robin had been honest about a lot of her past, their past, but couldn’t say everything. She knew why they were all a bit codependent on each other. Sometimes small things like the common cold felt like a monster they couldn’t fight.

As Robin led Steve out of the bus, Meg made a checklist in her head of everything she needed to do before the show tonight.

Taking care of her boys was always top priority.

#stranger things #strangerthingsocweek #writing challenge #original character #corroded coffin #robin buckley #eddie munson #steve harrington #side steddie #gareth emerson #jeff #frankie or unnammed freak who i have decided is frankie

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tojiswhore-nanamisslut · 3 months

Text

A Midnight of Emotions

pairing: Nanami x Haibara, Satoru x Suguru, Nanami x Gojo (at least the beginnings of it)

warnings: ANGST I'm sorry

synopsis: Gojo comes back from a mission and runs into Nanami. It's Haibara's birthday and the 2 of them get drunk on the roof of the school in his memory and end up falling asleep together in Nanami's bed. They find a kinship in each other for both having lost their best friend (gay).

word count: 2.4k

a/n: My most beloved mutual @pinkished gave me the inspo for this as she has with so many other fics I've written (and may one day post). Also this is sort of canon compliant but not with ages or dates because I was too lazy to look them up lol.

————————————————

Gojo came back to campus late one night, having just finished a mission. It had been a few months since Geto defected, but the pain in his heart was still palpable. Every day he thought about his best friend, his one and only. How things could have turned out differently if he had just paid attention. If he had just been there.

With his eyes cast down he nearly ran straight into Nanami, who had his back to him as he quietly closed the door to the dorm building.

“Nanami? What are you doing?” Gojo asked.

Nanami jumped and whipped around, hiding his hands behind his back. “Oh, Gojo, um, nothing I’m just... going for a walk.”

Gojo had never seen Nanami flustered before, making him momentarily forget his sadness as his curiosity piqued.

“Oh? Well why do you look so nervous then? What do you have behind your back?” Gojo asked, with a teasing smile, trying to peer around Nanami's back.

Nanami shifted to conceal what was behind him, a vein pulsating in his head as he grew irritated, “Nothing. Don’t you have something better to do? Some curses to exorcize that only ‘the strongest’ can handle?”

At that, Gojo’s smile fell. ‘The strongest’ used to mean him and Suguru. Now it was just him. Alone.

Nanami immediately regretted snapping. Even though it had been a year since Yu died, he still thought of his best friend every day. In fact, today would have been Yu’s 18th birthday. One of their favorite things to do was sneak sake out of Yaga’s personal stash and get tipsy on the roof of the school and just talk the night away. In honor of that, Nanami had secured some sake and was on his way to the roof when he ran into Gojo.

“Listen, Gojo I’m s--” Nanami started.

“No. Sorry I pried. I’ll leave you be.” Gojo began to turn away when Nanami spoke up again.

“It’s Yu’s birthday today.”

At that, Gojo turned around. What day was it? Oh, he realized, it was his birthday. Haibara should have been turning 18 this year.

Nanami continued, bringing his hands to his front as he did, “Me and Yu used to celebrate a mission gone well or a special occasion by stealing some sake from Yaga and drinking on the roof. Since it’s his birthday, I was going to continue that tradition...” Nanami held the bottle of sake in front of him.

Gojo looked at the bottle and then at Nanami. He could hear the sadness in Nanami’s voice. When Suguru left that day, it felt like he lost a part of himself too. But at least Suguru was alive. He couldn’t imagine how Nanami felt, having to watch his best friend die and being powerless to help him. Much like he was powerless to help Suguru.

“Oh..” was all Gojo mustered to say.

Nanami continued, “If you’d like, you can join me tonight. Haibara always looked up to you...” Nanami trailed off again.

Gojo thought for a second. He wasn’t a fan of alcohol. But with how depressed he felt about Suguru leaving, and given that it was Haibara’s birthday, he figured he could endure it for one night.

“All right. Lead the way.”

Nanami led Gojo through the way he and Haibara used to get on the roof. Once on top, Gojo looked around. The moon was full, illuminating everything, leaving the secrets of the night with no place to hide. It was all bared for the stars to see.

“This is nice. I can’t believe I’ve never been up here before.” Gojo said.

“Yeah. It's peaceful up here.”

The two of them sat in silence for some time. Each thinking about the partner they loved and ultimately lost.

“Well. Happy 18th Birthday Yu. This is for you.” And Nanami tipped the sake bottle back to his lips and took a long drink, and then passed it to Gojo.

Gojo took the bottle carefully, “Happy Birthday Haibara.” And he took a sip, forcing the liquid down his throat as it burned.

“Ack I don’t get how people drink this stuff.” Gojo groaned, handing the bottle back to Nanami, who was already sporting a rosy tint to his cheeks, visible by the light of the moon.

“Haha Yu used to say the same thing. But he said he wasn’t gonna let me drink alone and have all the fun. Then it just became a tradition to do after a successful mission.” Nanami wore a small smile on his face, recalling all the good times they had together, and then he took another long swig.

“You also just get used to it over time. Here.” He said, passing it back to Gojo.

Gojo looked at the bottle with a grimace but took a larger sip this time, thoughts about how Suguru would have enjoyed it up here plagued his mind and helped the clear liquid slide down his throat.

They sat in silence again. Both boys growing redder as the sake bottle emptied.

It was Nanami who eventually broke the silence, voice trembling and slurred, “I miss him so much.”

Gojo was shocked at the other boy’s sudden vulnerability. Nanami was usually so stoic and quiet. Yet here he was, eyes glistening in the moonlight as he looked out at the world beyond.

Gojo looked down, “I miss him too.” He responded quietly. He hadn’t drank as much as Nanami but he could still feel his body tingling, could feel the emotions he was trying to suppress bubbling to the surface, threatening to spill over like the tears in Nanami’s eyes.

“We weren’t strong enough to save either of them.” Nanami sniffled, mouth quivering, still looking out at the lights of the non-sorcerer world.

At that, the tightness in Gojo’s chest finally bursted open. The pain and loss and helplessness he felt was finally coming to the surface. He couldn’t ignore it any longer as tears ran down his cheeks and he gritted his teeth. No matter what he did, they wouldn’t stop.

The only other one with the title of ‘the strongest’, his best friend, his one and only, Suguru...had gone down a path he could not follow and he was powerless to stop him. For all his strength he couldn’t even keep Suguru by his side. Suguru Suguru Suguru. A name that once filled him with such joy and love and pride, now only left him in despair. What good was any of this if he couldn’t share it with the one he cared for the most? Who could he save if he couldn’t even save the person closest to him? What use was he to the world?

He looked up at the stars, tears running down his cheeks, why why why why. Why was fate so cruel? Why did Suguru leave? Why wasn’t he enough for him to be happy in this world?

What broke Gojo out of his spiral was the soft snoring coming from Nanami, wet streaks painting his cheeks. It looked like whatever tightness Nanami was holding in his chest finally broke too.

Gojo felt a little bit guilty. Nanami drank most of the sake because Gojo only took small sips after the second one. When he was up here with Haibara it was probably more of a 50/50 split.

He looked out at the city beyond, wondering where Suguru was right now, what he was doing.

Gojo sighed and dried his face, it was no use wondering. He could only save those who were prepared to be saved. And right now, Nanami looked like he was about to roll right off the roof.

Despite not having drunk that much, Gojo was still a lightweight and could feel the effects of the alcohol. Because of it, he didn’t really trust that he could use his technique right now, so he picked Nanami up the old fashioned way and carried his passed out junior back to his dorm. It was a significant struggle getting off the roof with the deadweight of an 18 year old boy on your shoulders, especially when you’ve been drinking. But Gojo managed to do it while only knocking Nanami’s head into something once.

When they were back in Nanami’s dorm, Gojo took off his shoes and put him to bed, laying him on his side just in case. He stood there for a bit, wondering if it would really be okay to leave Nanami alone. He was a little concerned about how much the boy drank, and to be honest, he wasn’t too keen on being alone right now. The alcohol exacerbated his pent up emotions and led his thoughts down dark paths.

Gojo was pondering his options when Nanami spoke in his sleep, “Yu? Where’d you go? Come back.” As Nanami spoke he reached over to the empty side of his bed, eyebrows furrowing when he was met with nothing, “Come back, Yu. Please”

Through the light of the moon pouring in through the windows, Gojo could see tears forming in the corners of Nanami’s eyes again, the streaks down his cheeks only barely dried.

Gojo sighed for the second time that night. He knew how that felt. Him and Suguru had shared a bed many, many times before. They always shared one on missions, and occasionally snuck into each other’s dorm for sleepovers at school. Honestly, he missed the feeling of having someone by his side. When he started going on missions alone, he found it hard to sleep, but eventually got used to it. Now though, after Suguru’s defection, he found himself lying awake most of the night. Feeling so small in his own bed.

“Please” Nanami’s lips quivered. Gojo sighed for a third time and crawled into bed next to Nanami, “You’re fine Nanami. Go to bed. I’m here.”

At that Nanami’s face softened and he laid his hand on Gojo’s shoulder. His light snores filled the room once more.

Despite himself, Gojo’s eyes began to feel heavy. The bed was comfortable, and it was comforting having another body next to him, even if it wasn’t Suguru. Soon enough, both boys had drifted off, the moon shining a light across their chests, rising and falling in sync.

Gojo was the first to wake the next morning, a sun beam right in his eyes. He looked over and Nanami was still asleep, rolled over with his back to him now. Well, the guy made it through the night without throwing up and he was still breathing. Gojo considered that a win.

Carefully and as quietly as possible, he got up from the bed and made his way to the kitchen. His head was lightly pounding, likely from the alcohol and the tears he shed last night. Tears he had been holding in for months. He got himself a glass of water and then started making breakfast for himself. By the time he sat down to eat, Nanami came dragging his feet into the kitchen, eyes squished in pain and a hand on his head.

“Good morning”, Gojo chimed. He was unsure what the other boy remembered of last night.

Nanami looked at him through pained eyes, “Good morning.” And then went to get himself a glass of water. After downing it he seemed to feel a little bit better.

“Hey, about last night...I don’t remember too much of it but I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble...” Nanami looked away. He had only ever really gotten tipsy with Haibara, but he guessed he drank more than he was used to. At least, that’s what his spotty memory and pounding head were telling him.

“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t trouble but you definitely owe me for having to carry you passed out back to your dorm.” Gojo smirked.

Nanami’s eyes widened as a blush overtook his face, “You had to carry me back!?” He asked, embarrassed.

“Yep and I had to take your shoes off and get up close and personal with your stinky feet.” Gojo teased.

At that, the vein in Nanami’s head pulsed but he bit his tongue, “Well,” he began in a tight voice, “Thank you for carrying me back. I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Mhmm I’ll always be here to save you Nanaminnnnn” Gojo grinned as Nanami’s grip on his glass tightened and the vein pulsed faster.

Nanami didn’t even bother to reply, still partially ashamed that he made Gojo deal with him while he was drunk. He’d let his teasing go. This time.

As Gojo watched Nanami leave, he thought about everything that happened last night.

Nanami apparently didn’t remember anything, or he was just lying. Either way, Gojo wasn’t going to bring it up. It was a vulnerable night for both of them. And to be frank, Gojo was not one to be vulnerable around others. Suguru was the only one who ever got to see that side of him. At that thought, Gojo tensed, expecting to feel the same suffocating tightness in his chest that always accompanied thoughts of Suguru. But he didn’t. Yes, the tightness in his chest was still there, but it wasn’t as suffocating. It didn’t feel like somebody ripped a hole into his heart. He could breathe. And he did. A full breath of air, letting the thought of Suguru come and go. Maybe being vulnerable and trusting others wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

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

Nanami left the kitchen and walked towards the bathrooms to take a shower. He had lied. He was drunk last night, yeah, but he remembers crying. He remembers hearing Gojo crying, asking the stars “why?” over and over again. He had even woken up in the middle of the night to find Gojo sleeping next to him, just like Yu used to, with Nanami’s hand on his shoulder. He’s surprised the boy didn’t tease him about it, as irritating him seems to be one of Gojo’s other innate techniques. But, he supposed even Gojo has limits. After all, they both lost their partners, their best friend, the person closest to them. Both because they were too weak, just in different ways. As Nanami climbed into the shower, he began to feel a sense of kinship with Gojo. And, was that even a spark of respect?

“Oh Nanamiiiiiinnnnnnnnn I thought of the first way you could repay me for my heroic selflessness and for having to smell your stinky feeeetttttt” Gojo sang from the hallway.

Nanami’s head began to pound harder. Nope. He definitely did not respect Gojo Satoru.

#my writing #posts #nanago #satosugu #nanami x haibara #nanami x gojo #gojo x geto #nanami #gojo #haibara #geto #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #hainana

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byeoltoyuki · 11 months

Text

↳ Pairing: Minho x You

❧ Genre : Fluff / Smut /

❧ Words : +2k

“Oh, you’re still alive.” “Don’t sound so disappointed, I might think you don’t like me.”

“Remind me again, why did I agree to come with you?” You groaned in pure despair as you nudged Felix in the stomach.

From the moment he barged into your flat as if he owned the place (you did give him the spare key right for this purpose but you would never admit it out loud, especially not when you were annoyed with him), you should have known he had something bad on mind. Better yet, you should have asked him who would attend this stupid party. It would have avoided you an almost heart-attack.

“Because I’m your best friend and you love me?” Felix wiggled his brows playfully in response, completely unfazed with your attitude. The two of you had been friends long enough for him to know exactly what to expect. He knew you would try to bite his head off.

Felix was absolutely right. The moment he talked, you slapped his arm, once, twice and you could have kept going if not for Felix grabbing your arms to prevent you from harming him further.

“Come on, Y/N.” Despite your attacks, he dared to smile, knowing all too well that his smiles always worked on you, always managed to sooth your anger. This time was not an exception. “I know you don’t like him, it’s fine, I get it. But just because he’s here, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to have fun with all of us.”

Damn him for knowing you and damn him for being right. “I hate you.”

Felix’s smile only widened – he had won. “No, you don’t.”

Sadly, there was no point in lying. You sighed in defeat and relaxed. “No, I don’t.”

Felix squeezed your arms gently to encourage you and then let go completely of you.

Felix was the first to join the others in the room, smiling brightly and laughing with them. He was just like that, a social butterfly. With just his presence he lit up the room and of course everybody felt attracted to his aura.

You were one of them. No matter how grumpy you were as a kid, Felix still managed to befriend you, to make your walls crumble. You smiled at the memory but the smile didn’t last. The moment your eyes locked with the person you hated the most, your anger came back with probably more intensity than before.

Lee Minho, the pain in your ass, the man you wished you could punch, the man you wished to never see again. Alas, he happened to be one of Felix’s closest friends which meant there was no escape for you; you could either accept his presence and do your best at ignoring the remarks he would inevitably throw at you or you could leave and miss your friends.

You curled your fists, unknowingly to you, as you stared at him. You hated how he maintained the eye contact, his gaze intense and strong which made you almost cower before him. Damn him and his stupid eyes.

It wasn’t always like this between the two of you and now that you thought about it, you couldn’t remember what started the feud. A bad joke? Minho was fond of them. A remark that you took wrong? Wouldn’t be a first considering your bad temper. Or was it because of that stupid night at the club where you celebrated Jisung’s birthday? A party that turned into disaster for you, just because you drank too much, danced too much, only to find yourself pressed against a wall, with Minho’s lips on your skin. It wouldn’t have been bad if not for the fact that he simply ignored you afterwards.

“Hey Y/N! Are you planning on spending the night by the door or are you actually going to join us?” Jisung, rather rudely, interrupted your train of thoughts. You averted your attention from Minho to him, and a tiny smile spread on your face at his antics. He grabbed a bottle of beer and pointed at you. “I have just what you need.”

You shook your head, fondly. “What would you know of what I need.” But it worked - you joined him on the couch and took the bottle from him. “Thank you.”

Jisung nudged you playfully and leaned closer. “For your information, I’m a mind reader so of course I always know what you need.”

You quirked an amused brow at him. “How much did you drink?”

He only stuck his tongue out in response, knowing better than to answer.

“Oh, you’re still alive.” Minho finally spoke, addressing you.

Oh how you wished he could ignore your existence. But he couldn’t, could he? It would be too much to ask for. You took a deep breath, put on your best fake smile and looked at him. “Don’t sound so disappointed, I might think you don’t like me.”

And just like that you went back at ignoring him. You took a sip of your beer; Jisung was right, it was exactly what you needed after a long week of work, exactly what you needed to relax and forget the person sitting across from you. Even without looking at him, you could still feel his eyes on you. You didn’t know what was up with him tonight but the staring was becoming bothersome.

Felix plopped beside you; he wrapped a protective arm around your shoulders. You glanced at him expecting him to speak but he only smiled and averted his attention. But you understood, he wanted to make sure you were fine.

And you were. For a while. After one bottle of beer, you felt more at ease. With the second, you started talking livelier, laughing along at their jokes (some funny, some dirty). By third, you realized that maybe you had enough, or at least you needed a small break.

“I’ll grab some water.” You whispered to Felix as you left your place and went to the kitchen.

You poured yourself a glass of water, enjoying the freshness which also helped to clear your mind.

Not for long.

Your moment of peace was interrupted when arms appeared at each side of you, trapping you between the counter and a body. Your whole body tensed in response as you stared at very pretty hands.

“I was wondering,” Minho started, his mouth awfully close to your ear which only resulted in shivers running down your spine. “Did you wear this dress to impress someone?”

You kept your mouth shut for the sake of your sanity. The urge to snap at him was strong. The urge to push him away was even stronger, but you stayed still and waited to see what exactly he was trying to do.

“Were you trying to impress me, Y/N?” He whispered those words to your ear.

You scoffed at his question. Clearly, someone had drunk too much. You turned to face him, ready to share a piece of your mind. It never happened. It was one thing to feel him against your back, it was a whole different story to find yourself so close to him once more. Images of that night at the club flashed through your mind – you hated yourself for thinking about it again.

Minho smirked at your reaction. He knew exactly what you wanted to do, he knew and understood your fire but finding you at loss of words amused him.

“What are you trying to do, Minho?” You finally asked.

“Break the ice.” He said without batting an eye.

That’s it. He was being ridiculous - you couldn’t help but snort at his response.

“A little bit too late for that, don’t you think?” Without any more hesitation, you pushed him out of your way, ready to leave.

But Minho wasn’t ready to let go. Not yet. Before you could even take a step, he grabbed your wrist, forcing you to face him.

“Don’t.”

The sober you would have yelled at him, probably even tried to push him away. But you weren’t sober and weren’t thinking completely clearly either. So you stayed and watched him silently.

“Why are you so angry, Y/N?”

“I’m not angry.” You lied, very badly.

“Consider me unconvinced. What did I do to piss you off so much?” Minho knew exactly what went wrong with the two of you but he wanted you to admit it, to hear you say it, then maybe, you could make things work.

Minho moved his fingers from your wrist to your arm, gentle, feather like touches - you shivered, unable to control your reaction. He watched you; how your breath hitched in your throat, how you watched his fingers, how you bit on your lips.

“Say it.” He urged you, fingers halting at your exposed collarbone.

Despite his words, you couldn’t concentrate on anything other than his fingers so close to your throat. You wanted him to wrap those pretty fingers around it.

The sober you would have been appalled with your thoughts.

“I hate you for leaving me that night.” You finally spilled the beans, no matter how hard it was. But once the words were out of your mouth, you found it much easier to explain. You looked him in the eyes and accepted that tonight at least you would be honest with him.

“I hated that the next day you ignored me.” You took a step towards him, wanting to feel more of him. “You barely looked at me. If you regretted it - fine but ignoring me was rude and it hurt me.” You put your hand on his, the one still placed on your collarbone. You shouldn’t be doing it but you couldn’t stop yourself; you moved his hand to your throat. “Worse yet, I hated seeing you with another girl. After that? I just didn’t want to deal with you. Happy?”

Minho grabbed your face between his hands and crashed his lips against yours. It didn’t much resolve your problem, but honestly? You didn’t care. The moment his lips met yours - it set your body on fire. It was a bad idea but who cared when he was kissing you like his life depended on it?

You pulled at his shirt, grip tight on it as you kissed with just as much fervor, with just as much need. You poured all your anger, disappointment but also longing in this kiss.

“I’m sorry.” Minho took you by surprise as he whispered those words against your lips. He lifted you without much effort and put you on top of the counter.

Settled between your legs, Minho’s lips traveled from your lips to your jaw, to your neck, biting your tender flesh. All you could do was arch and whimper softly. He was slowly driving you crazy. You let your fingers run through his soft locks, tugging gently when he would bite your skin.

Just like that night, you felt his hands everywhere at once, gentle yet firm, making you whisper his name, pleading for more. You should be concerned with how easily you gave in and yet you couldn’t care less, it felt just too good.

“I missed this.” Minho whispered, lips finding yours once more.

“Whose fault, is it?” You bit on his lip, reminding him that things would have been different if not for his own behavior.

Minho groaned in response but didn’t try to defend himself. Not yet at least.

“Let me make it up to you.”

You knew exactly what he was asking of you – you nodded your head and watched as he slowly sank to his knees, hands hiking your dress further before settling on your thighs. His eyes, dark and filled with lust, never left yours. That alone made you clench around nothing. Damn your body for being so responsive.

Without a word, Minho pushed your way too wet panties aside – he licked his lips hungrily, satisfied with the sight before him.

“I barely touched you, and yet look how wet you are.” He gloated

You nudged him with your knee for being such a little shit but it didn’t stop him. Minho only chuckled and started placing kisses, from your knee, slowly moving to your thigh and getting dangerously close to where you needed him the most.

“Minho, please.” Despite your big ego, you begged, needing him to touch you, feel him in any way he was willing to give you.

“Such a nice girl for me.” He marveled. With that, he buried his head between your legs.

“Fuck!” Your hips jerked as Minho dragged his tongue along your slit. You grabbed the counter to steady yourself, holding for your dear life as Minho feasted on you mercilessly.

Minho threw your legs over his shoulders, giving himself a better access to your aching pussy. He groaned against you as he licked you slowly before wrapping his lips around your clit.

“Shit, Minho.” You moaned a little too loudly. You knew how dangerous the situation was; any minute now your friends could walk on you. It should bother you and if you weren’t so lost in the feeling of Minho’s pretty lips, it would have. You slammed your hand over your mouth, trying to muffle your moans as much as you could but it was getting harder. With every lick, every kiss, you were slowly losing yourself.

“Let me hear you, princess.” Minho’s voice was soft and yet it wasn’t a request, it was an order.

You looked down on him, dizzy. There was no way you could obey him, too scared of what could happen if someone else heard you. But apparently, not obeying him was also a bad idea. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Really?”

“Minho-“ Whatever you were about to say died on your tongue as he slipped, with ease, a finger inside you. You threw your head back, eyes rolling back. “Fuck!”

“See, not that hard.” He cooed at you and added another finger.

You clenched around his fingers, unable to hold back another moan. Minho showed you no mercy. Between his fingers and his tongue, it didn’t take you long to start feeling dizzier and dizzier, your orgasm getting closer.

“Please,” You begged

“Cum sweetheart.” It was all it took for you to let go as you shuddered uncontrollably. “So pretty.” Minho stood up and kissed your lips, wrapping his arms tightly around you, letting you recover in his arms.

“I don’t know whether I should be shocked or laugh at the two of you.” Jisung’s voice interrupted your moment.

If Minho barely moved at his friend’s interruption, you, on the other hand, were mortified and hid your face in Minho’s neck in result. There was no way you could face Jisung in this state.

“Ji, I love you but can you leave us?” Minho asked as nicely as he could, without even looking at his friend. His eyes were on you and how cute you looked.

“Yep.” Jisung replied without hesitation. “Guys!!”

Oh you were so screwed.

“He’s a dead man.” Minho groaned.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #lee minho #minho #stray kids x reader #minho x reader #prompts #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic

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kyber-crystal · 2 years

Text

it was only a kiss || bradley “rooster” bradshaw

summary: it’s tradition for you and rooster to do absurd dares. too much tequila later, you bet that you can kiss him without either of you feeling anything. spoiler alert: you both feel something.

words: ~1.5k

warnings: brief alcohol mentions, drunk rooster (but it’s funny i promise), a bit of angst. happy ending

a/n: this was originally a poe oneshot that i posted on ao3, but i made some changes as i thought this would fit our boy rooster better :) enjoyyy

The Hard Deck is alive tonight.

You had your fair share of victories—plenty of them over the past few months, in fact. But this mission in particular had everyone in sky-high spirits, so much so that a celebration seemed to be in order.

Despite how exhausted you were at the moment, you couldn’t help but smile. With Rooster’s Hawaiian shirt around your shoulders and a bottle of tequila in hand, you felt like you could conquer the universe. It was most likely only the alcohol talking, but regardless, you were ready for everything.

“You’re staring at me.”

“You’re drunk, Lieutenant,” you pointed out.

“And you’re not?” He shot you a smile. “I don’t believe you’re in the place to call me out for that.”

“I can drink anything I want, any time I want,” you slurred slightly, taking a long swig of your drink. “It’s my world and you’re living in it.”

“I can feel your eyes on me, you know. You’re staring at me.”

“You’re imagining things. I’m not staring.”

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Sounds to me like someone’s in love with me,” he teased, nudging you in the shoulder. “I’m very flattered. I’m glad you think about me so often, it’s an honor to be so highly regarded.”

“Dream about it, hotshot, I’m not.”

“Sure you aren’t.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you testing me, Bradshaw?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

“Fine, then.” Sliding his jacket off, you straightened yourself out. “I’ll kiss you right now to prove I don’t feel anything for you. And to make sure you don’t feel anything for me.”

“No need to worry, sweetheart. That’s not happening for as long as I let it.”

Grabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt, you pulled him towards you and kissed him without a moment’s hesitation, without caring if everyone saw. The very first thing your brain is able to process is the feeling of his lips on yours. You were drunk, that much was true, but sober enough to realize how soft his lips were and how gentle he was being despite the roughness of the situation. It was almost impossible to stop yourself. Neither of you could stop yourselves. His hands were burning into your skin into as he held you tight against him and it was electrifying. Your hands gripped his forearms so you could keep standing upright. You suppressed a small groan.

You broke apart after what felt like an eternity, breathing hard.

“I didn’t feel anything,” you declared in a confident tone.

“Good,” Rooster exhaled, dusting himself off. “Me neither.”

He turned around and walked away, leaving you standing there, and wondering why the hell do my lips still feel like they’re on fire?

You brought a finger up to your lips. If you didn’t feel anything for him, then why did you like what he had done? Why did you enjoy it?

The next few days passed by in a blur and you moved place to place on autopilot. You weren’t one to be easily distracted but it seemed like this time seemed to make an exception. You could hardly focus on anything you were doing. When Payback threw a cardboard box at your head, you didn’t flinch at all.

“Hey, Y/N! I was asking you if I should fix up my helmet or not,” Payback repeated. His head tilted to the side as he watched you stand there, eyes empty. He waved a hand in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N. Are you okay?”

“What?” You blinked. “Y-yeah. What’s up?”

He placed his hands on your shoulders. “Something. is. wrong.”

“I’m fine. Didn’t sleep last night.”

“You never sleep at night and yet you don’t act like this,” your best friend fired back. “What’s gotten into you? Is it because of what happened between you and Bradshaw last night—:

At this, you shot him a glare. “No, it’s not.”

“Oh, so that was what’s bothering you!” he laughed. “And you said you didn’t feel anything?’

“I don’t feel anything, you moron,” you rolled your eyes. “It was only a kiss.”

“Only a kiss, and yet I saw you stumble away last night like you were drunk.”

“I was drunk, Fitch.” you tried defending yourself.

“Not blackout drunk. You were awake enough to know what you were doing. And feeling.”

“Get to the point.”

“What I’m saying here is,” Payback crossed his arms, “you need to set things straight. Kiss him again.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” you questioned, grimacing as you recalled the memory. “I…”

“You don’t want to, or you can’t bring yourself to because you realized you’re actually in love with him?”

“...What?”

“I think,” he cleared his throat, “you need to tell him. If you’re not going to drop everything and kiss him again, at least tell him. ‘Cause he’s starting to get suspicious of you avoiding him every day. He asked Mav why you out-of-the-blue switched your flight schedule. And looked for you in the cafeteria at every meal. And went to your quarters once or twice while you were out. Rooster cares about you, you know. No matter how many times you mess up, it’s not gonna change how much he cares about you and your well-being.”

“I—well—what if he pushes me away?” you spluttered. “Then that would be embarrassing.”

“That day last week. He was holding you like there was no tomorrow, and you’re telling me you think he’ll turn you down? Crazy. Just do it.”

“You owe me big time, then. After your next mission, you’re paying for my dinner. At that one Mexican place down the street.”

Payback let out a sigh. “Fine. We’re at a deal, then. Talk to him and I’ll get you your burritos.”

It was raining bullets outside, and you couldn’t sleep.

You tossed and turned dozens of times in your bed, but fatigue seemed to keep its distance. The longer you waited, the louder the storm became. You couldn’t stand it.

San Diego was amazing. But at this moment you questioned why the temperatures had to be some of the most bipolar you’d ever experienced. The weather was only nice when it wanted to be. And right now, it chose to be anything but peaceful. It was hot, humid, and sticky, and your sheets stuck to your skin. The air conditioning wasn’t working, either, which made everything worse.

As you were about to drift off, a knock sounded on your door. Seconds later, a dark figure slipped into your room.

You sat up to switch on your light, eyes narrowing. “Bradley…it’s two in the morning. What do you want?”

“It’s raining.”

“Duh.”

“It’s raining, and I can’t sleep.”

“And what do you want me to do about that?”

Rooster came closer, and that was when you saw his reddened eyes and dark circles. Guess you hadn’t been the only victim of insomnia.

“I need you,” he whispered hoarsely.

Your heart constricted. “Roos…not right now. I’m trying to sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Please.”

You sighed, and moved over in bed to make room for him. “Fine, come here.”

He climbed in right next to you and immediately leaned against you. His body pressed up right next to yours, and he was warm.

“I lied, you know.”

“About…?”

“When I said I didn’t feel anything. I lied about that,” he said quietly. “I did feel something. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that. Sounds stupid, I know, but I really couldn’t. I don’t know what kind of chokehold you have on me…but whatever it was, it made me feel something.”

You stayed quiet as he continued talking. “I forgot everything else that happened that night, because I was so drunk. But that was one thing I didn’t forget. You kissed me and I’ll remember that exact moment for the rest of my life. I still remember the way you tasted and the way you smelled. That wasn’t how I imagined our first kiss to be, but it was still more than I could’ve asked for. Tequila and honey.”

“Come again?”

“I think I might be falling in love with you,” Rooster admitted. “Each and every part of you.”

Smiling softly, you placed a hand against his cheek. He leaned into you and touched his lips to the inside of your palm. The gesture sent a spark through your body and for a moment, the world stopped.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“What if I kissed you right now?”

“I…wouldn’t mind that.”

He kisses you then, and the world comes to a standstill. Suddenly, the heat and high winds don’t faze you anymore; neither do the ones brewing in the pit of your stomach. In the midst of a ferocious monsoon, he was your safe haven and your home and everything else under the stormy sky.

tags, including those who may be interested: @walkonthewiidside @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @altheadarling @hay-9105 @purelyfiction @93joons @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @lyn-lc @azari-anna @thelifeofthelifeofme @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @icemansgirl1999 @cherry-waved @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @kodzuvia @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @purelyfiction @marrianena @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @3ddiemyl0ve @the-untamed-soul @callsignsmaverick @sashayazie @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @walkonthewiidside @unordinare

#top gun: maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw x reader #miles teller #miles teller imagine #top gun fic #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x y/n #top gun maverick fic #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick

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