#because id get up and walk around his house or lay on the floor instead of doing the thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

literaila · 8 months

Note

hi v!! if it's not much to ask, could I request a tasm peter fic where reader encourages him to wear his glasses more cause he looks soooo good in them 🥺 you can take this prompt wherever you want lol I just thought it'd be cute. totally fine if you can't/don't want to!! have a great day <33

glasses

tasm!peter x reader

warnings: fluff, head trauma, teasing (as per usual)

a/n: no one in this fic grabs glasses by the lens because i am not a monster

you’re humming to yourself as you walk through the door. bag hanging at your side, feet aching from the walk home.

and your neck hurts a bit. tiny pin pricks of pain trailing up your skin like an uncomfortable reminder that you’re still human. and your stomach is grumbling from the lunch you made, and you can feel your head grinning maliciously, the beginnings of an ache coming on.

but you’re home. and it is a welcome enough reminder when you see peters shoes by the door. his bag hung up against the door, camera strap hanging out the side.

a fresh smile warms your face, and even though you know peter can hear you—feel you—you tiptoe into the living room, sliding off your tennis shoes.

you peek around the corner, sneakily looking for a mop of hair and unnaturally tan skin. but he’s not on the couch.

you frown.

sneaking up to tackle peter might be your favorite part of the day.

“peter?” you call into the empty apartment. “hiding is against the rules.”

you walk into the kitchen, biding your time by stealing a couple of grapes and sipping on whatever coffee peter brought home. it’s cold, but sweet, like chocolate milk so you carry it with you.

but when you’re back he’s still not there.

you scowl, crossing your arms. “i am not playing hide-and-seek,” you say, into the abyss. the silence is teasing.

you sit on the couch, turning on the tv just to get back at him. look at how unbothered you are.

you sit there for probably three minutes. sipping on peters coffee, and tapping your fingers against your leg incessantly. of course he would do this. today.

you’re just about to say something to him again—where ever the bastard is—when something falls on your head.

you yelp and move back, staring at the glasses, now smudged, sitting on the couch like a taunt.

and finally you look up.

peters got his hand over his mouth, a smirk hiding behind those eyes. you glare back at him, biting your lip before you can yell at him.

“oops,” he says, dropping himself on one hand so he can fall on the floor next to you, rubbing the new bump on your head. “sorry, bug.”

your mouth is open and you’re staring at him—glowering—as his lip twitches with the effort not to laugh.

“glad you find yourself amusing,” you snap, but your own laugh sneaks up on you before you can stop it.

he holds his hands up in defense. “all you had to do was look up.”

“oh yeah,” you nod vigorously, accidentally elbowing him in the stomach. “my bad for not checking for you on the ceiling.”

“it was in self defense!” peter pleads, sitting down next to you. his eyes are evil. “i was trying to avoid being attacked!”

“so you attack me instead?”

“they fell,” he emphasizes, sliding his glasses back on. “i said sorry.”

“you’re not forgiven.” you turn away from him, laying back on the couch.

“c’mon, baby.”

you pout.

“it was an accident. y’know id never hurt you on purpose. i cant say the same for some people in this house…” he adds on, smiling at you innocently. he ruffles your hair. “i missed you.”

finally you meet his eyes. completely adoring and somewhat irritating. you make a face and groan. “ugh,” you say, shielding yourself from him. “stop that.”

“what?”

you push him away. “take those off.”

peter frowns, trying to look at his glasses, crossed eyes and unserious. “what? why?”

“you cant look cute when i’m trying to be mad at you,” you say to him, reaching for the glasses, “it isn’t fair.”

peter leans back, giggling mischievously. he pushes your hands away. “i didn’t realize you liked my glasses.”

you pause and blink at him, glaring. “everyone likes a hot nerd.”

“so you think i’m hot,” peter drawls.

“you’re literally my boyfriend. we’ve had this discussion.”

peter leans towards you, a smirk playing on his lips. his cheek keeps twitching and it’s getting hard not to laugh at him and his high eyebrows. “i don’t remember,” peter whispers, “you should remind me.”

you poke his forehead, pushing him and his self righteousness away. “why are you even wearing those? you don’t need them.”

“i think my eyes are going bad again.”

his head twitches, and you watch his completely warm and inviting eyes as he lies. he’s staring at you, and you watch as his eyes dart down, then back up.

“oh no,” you coo, crawling towards him, a different feeling emerging in your chest. “let me see.”

you’re an inch away from his face. if you said another word your lips would brush his. you stare into his eyes, watching him flinch at the feeling of your hand on his chest. his breath hits your cupids brow.

“oh yeah,” you whisper, leaning forward, his lips hitting yours. then you pull back, frowning. “you’re going blind,” you say, “there’s nothing to be done.”

“is that the doctors professional opinion?” peter mumbles, swallowing.

“you won’t be needing these anyway,” you say to him, smiling viciously, and stealing them off of his face.

then you push away from him, moving to the opposite end of the couch.

peter clears his throat, running a hand through his hair. there is a tense moment where you both avoid each others eyes.

“is this payback?” peter asks.

“not sure what you mean, baby.”

“my glasses hit you on the head so you hold them captive?”

you smile, wiping a smudge on the lens with your shirt. “don’t worry, we’re just getting acquainted.” and then you put them on, grinning at peter.

“so you can wear them but i can’t?”

“if you want them back…” you push them down your nose, looking at peter through your eyebrows. “i guess you’ll have to come and take them.”

peter snorts and stands up, taking his time walking towards you. his face is dark, his eyes have fallen down your trap, and you don’t plan to let him go any time soon.

as he takes another step towards you, you can feel it. that tension, the magnetic pull between the two of you. and you know that peter would stick to the ceiling just to get away from it. to avoid the undeniable chemistry between the two of you.

and you know that you would jump up and cling on to him.

when peter is one step in front of you, you pout innocently. “did you want something?”

peters movements are undetectable as he throws the glasses off of your face, leaning down over you, all of him imposing and strong and completely right as his hands wrap around your face, his lips just millimeters from yours.

it takes genuine restraint to keep yourself from leaning forward. and you can tell that peter is feeling the same thing.

“am i forgiven?” he asks, voice low and blurred by your want to leave marks on every inch of his skin.

“just kiss me,” you hiss, and the words are nothing but a pencil scribble down the page before peter is on you, and you are on him.

your hands pull on his hair, and you force him to smother you, his chest leaning against yours, his arms falling as you make him let go.

you’d gladly let peter crush you forever, if only he would string your skin together like fabric.

he moans when you scratch at his scalp, and bites at your lip when you giggle in response.

it is no slow kiss, with no more teasing.

you’ve both reached the end of this cliff, and if he falls, you’re going right with him.

it is breathless and rough, and you don’t mind at all as peters hand around your waist pulls you even closer. as his lips attack yours, and his breath contaminates your own.

your hand moves, going to the neck of his shirt and pulling. then around his shoulders, pleading.

peter laughs against you. he moves back, just so he can whisper, “i’ll start wearing my glasses more often if this is the consequence.”

“shut up,” you lean up to him, using his skin for leverage.

his smile is childish and it melts into you.

you breathe against him, unable to keep your own smile back. teeth clash, but neither of you mine or pause.

until peter breathes too harshly, too recklessly. he pulls back, laughing at your face, at your puffy lips and bewitched eyes. “bedroom?” he asks.

you smile back at him, leaning over to grab the glasses he threw beside you, and sliding them on his face. “those stay on,” you tell him.

his laugh echoes as he carries you down the hallway.

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casuallyimagining · 3 years

Text

Fix You (2)

hybrid!Min Yoongi x female!reader

Summary: When you take in a stray cat, you have no idea he’s secretly a hybrid trying to escape his past. Can you help him heal? Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, fluff Word Count: 2,987 Rating: M Warnings (may not appear in every part): minor character is a dick to animals, mentions of a gun, main character injury (non-serious), discussion of physical abuse, emotional abuse, discussion of sexual abuse, discussion of self-harm

Notes: Banner by @birbdae; thanks to @voiceswithoutlips, @taetaesbaebaepsae, and @hoebii for editing this for me.

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When you woke up, the cat was nowhere to be found, and your pillow was missing. It was just your luck that the random cat you had saved would end up being a kleptomaniac. You sighed and began to get ready for your day. It wasn’t like you could do anything about it. The cat was probably scared and confused, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to be comfortable.

As you passed your TV stand, you bent down to peer underneath it. Copper eyes stared back at you. You greeted the cat and his tail swished back and forth against the floor, annoyed. So he wasn’t into mornings, then.

Heading into the kitchen, you quickly made yourself a cup of coffee. If the cat wasn’t a morning person, then you would probably get along. You were an early riser, but that was mostly due to insomnia, not because you actually enjoyed being awake.

You brought him the rest of the chicken you had cut up the night before, prepared with his morning dose of the antibiotics. Laying down on the floor, you pushed the plate under the TV stand for him.

He sniffed at the chicken, eyes not leaving your face as he started to eat. His canines were long and pointy, you noticed, and if you paid attention when his mouth was closed, you could barely see the tip of the right one poking out from his lips.

“I’m going to go shopping today to get you some stuff.” The cat didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t. He was a cat. “I know you’re feeling better, but please try not to jump on stuff. You’ll hurt yourself more, and I really can’t afford another weekend trip to the vet.” His copper eyes seemed to soften at that for a moment before hardening back into a glare.

You weren’t sure what you did to make the cat constantly glare at you. Maybe he had a resting grouch face. Maybe he was just uncomfortable in his new surroundings. You hoped that, if nothing else, he would eventually warm up to you. All the pets you’d had in the past had opened up to you right away, although you supposed that was because they were babies when your family had adopted them. You’d never adopted an adult cat before.

“Eat up,” you told him before pushing yourself off the floor. “I’ll be back soon.”

The pet store was larger than you remembered it being. When you were a kid shopping with your mother for your pets, there were only a few departments in the store. There was, of course, sections for cats and dogs, as well as areas for fish, birds, reptiles, and small mammals. Now though, in addition to the old departments, there were additional sections for hybrids of all kinds--there was even a department dedicated to large and exotic hybrids like lions, panthers, giraffes, and elephants.

Hybrids weren’t a new species by any means, but it had only been in the past decade or so that people had fully started to embrace them in society. Before, shops that catered to hybrids were usually small and boutique--hybrids used to only be seen as pets or servants, and ones that lived without ownership were few and far between. But after fighting for and receiving the rights they deserved, hybrids had become more prevalent in society. There was even a hybrid serving in the president’s cabinet, and quite a few serving in other high-ranking government positions.

You wandered through the cat section of the pet store, unsure of what to buy. You had a couple toys in your cart--catnip mice and little springs and balls that had bells in them. You knew the cat was somehow going to act offended by them, but you reminded yourself that he’s a cat, and indoor cats needed something to stimulate their minds.

You also had put some cat shampoo in your cart. The cat was dirty, and you weren’t sure how much blood was going to be caked into his fur under the bandage, so you figured a bath was somewhere in his immediate future.

Sighing, you grabbed a bag of air-dried food. He would probably hate that, too, but you couldn’t keep feeding him raw chicken. For one thing, you couldn’t stand the feel of it, and the less you had to touch the raw meat, the better. But also, chicken was expensive, and while your job paid decently, you weren’t sure how well it could support an all-raw diet for the cat. This air-dried food was turkey and salmon, and would be the next closest thing to raw.

Eventually, you would probably end up getting the cat a cat tree, but you didn’t think it was a good idea right now. With his shoulder injury, he really shouldn’t be climbing or jumping, and a cat tree would only invite that more. So you left the aisle, even though they had a tree that had a little house you knew he would love to hide in.

Before checking out, you stopped by the little kiosk that sold ID tags and collars. You knew he would hate wearing a collar, but if he ever escaped, you wanted to know someone could return him to you. You would ask the vet about microchipping later, but for now, a collar would have to do. Looking at the options, you couldn’t help but laugh. Most of the plain collars were pink or had things like little butterflies on them. A few had bells, which you knew he would find absolutely repulsive, and a couple others had bowties. You considered a dark blue plaid one with a bowtie, but decided against it. As cute as he would look, you knew the cat would probably bite you if you went anywhere near him with it.

You settled on a collar covered in piano keys. It was the plainest one they had in stock that wasn’t bright pink. You grabbed a small, circular tag, too. He would hate it, but at least maybe if you picked the least offensive options, the cat would tolerate wearing a collar.

On the way home, you stopped and grabbed a coffee from the chain cafe down the street from your apartment. You were still a little tired, and when you got home, you were glad for the extra caffeine.

“I’m home, kitty!” you called into the seemingly empty apartment. You hadn’t really been expecting the cat to be anywhere out in the open, but a small part of you had hoped.

Walking into the kitchen, you deposited the couple bags from the pet store on the table. You couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Nothing was broken or in the wrong place that you could see from first glance, but the niggling feeling in the back of your mind wouldn’t go away. Something had been moved in your kitchen. Your mug from your coffee this morning was washed and sat in your drying rack, along with another cup that you had thought you put away and the dish from last night that you had used to feed the cat. You didn’t remember washing the dishes this morning, but you were still a little tired, so maybe you had and just forgot.

You didn’t see anything else out of the ordinary, so you let it go, choosing instead to go find your cat. As expected, you found him under the TV stand. He was panting as if he had just run under there from somewhere else in the house.

“You know you’re allowed to be in other rooms, right?” you asked him softly, pulling the empty plate out so you could take it to the kitchen. “You don’t have to run under here every time I come home.” Copper eyes met yours for a second, and you could see panic in them. Then you saw it. The bandage around his shoulder was gone.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. Dr. Jung’s assistant had wrapped it securely. He must have really been running around the house to not only loosen it, but to dislodge the bandage entirely.

“What were you doing while I was gone, dude?” you questioned. The cat looked terrified. His eyes were large as saucers, his ears flat against his head. His mouth was open in a silent hiss, his long canine teeth on full display. “Are you hurt?” That seemed to catch him off guard. “Are you still bleeding? Can I see?” You reached into your back pocket and pulled out your phone. “You don’t have to come out if you don’t want to,” you said softly, waving your phone in the dark. “But can you at least turn so I can see?”

It took you a second to realize that, again, you were talking to a cat. He wasn’t going to listen to you, despite how human his reactions to you seemed to be. In the second that it took you to remind yourself that your cat is, in fact, a cat, his demeanor changed. His ears were still pressed back against his head, but he seemed less agitated, more resigned. He crawled toward you slowly, the limp almost entirely gone.

When he was out from under the TV stand, he stood fully. You pushed yourself up so you could sit and examine him. As you reached for him, he backed away slightly. His copper eyes met yours for the briefest of seconds before they flicked away, focusing on the floor. He stood still and allowed you to scoop him up into your lap.

“It’s okay,” you soothed, scratching his head gently. “Let me just look at your shoulder.”

You ran your hand over the joint and he froze. For a second, you thought maybe he was going to bolt back under the TV stand. But he sat there stiffly, allowing you to feel for the bite marks and anything that might still be bleeding.

You found nothing. Not even a scab. The only signs of the dog attack yesterday were a ring of indents--scars, you presumed--that ran from his shoulder blades down to his chest and onto his leg. There was no way he had healed that fast.

But you didn’t say that. Instead, you smiled at him. “If you don’t want to wear the bandage any more, you don’t have to,” you said soothingly, scratching at the base of his ear. His copper eyes met yours, and you pulled away at the apprehension in them.

He stepped out of your lap as soon as your hand was away from him. You nodded once, smiling at him. “I’m going to go do some work, kitty. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

You were a researcher. Always had been. When you were looking for apartments in the city, you had created spreadsheets and pro/con lists and had spent weeks researching neighborhoods. And when you decided on the right neighborhood, you had debated floor plans, after weeks of second-guessing finally settling on the single floor, three bedroom, two bathroom with the decent sized kitchen and living room.

You hadn’t done any research before taking in the cat. You loved cats, had had several growing up. You knew enough about them to not need to do any research before committing to taking home the stray living near your parents’ house.

Maybe you should have.

Although you weren’t exactly sure how researching could have possibly prevented anything. You pushed it out of your mind, though, choosing instead to focus on your next work project.

Except you couldn’t focus. Your client was a hybrid-owned cafe just outside the city, and you were trying to design their menus. Normally, it wouldn’t take you long at all. They were great clients, and they had given you all the information you needed, but your mind kept drifting to the cat in your living room. You assumed he had crawled back under the TV stand. He seemed to be comfortable enough under there, although clearly he felt comfortable leaving the shadows when you weren’t home.

And then there was the problem of his name. You had no idea what to call him, but you were sure he had a name. Though how you’d figure it out, you had no idea.

You had wanted to watch this movie for months. It had appeared on streaming services around Christmastime, but it was now April, and you still hadn’t had the chance to watch it. You curled up on your sectional in the living room to watch it, a bowl of popcorn sitting beside you. You had turned the lights off in the living room, so the only major source of light was what was coming from the TV, and it was a fairly dark movie.

Though you were invested in the plot, you still scrolled through your phone, your attention divided between social media and what was happening on the television.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a shadow moving under your TV stand. Your cat’s head poked out a second later, copper eyes watching you scroll through your social media. In another second, the rest of his body emerged from the shadows. You forced yourself to watch the movie. You didn’t want to freak him out by watching him. When you glanced back at where he had emerged, he was gone.

The movie was about halfway over when you noticed him again, slinking back into the living room from the hallway. Where he had gone, you had no idea. But he sat for a moment, staring at you from beside the wall. You had grabbed a blanket in the time that he had been gone. Your apartment tended to get chilly at night sometimes--it was old, and the insulation wasn’t the best--and you were a little cold.

Before you knew what was happening, he was up on the couch and in your lap, laying in the valley between your outstretched legs. He paused for a moment, copper eyes meeting yours as if gauging your reaction. In the dim light from the TV, you could see that hint of panic again, as if he was terrified you would shout or push him away. You smiled at him gently, resituating so more of your lap was available and going back to scrolling through your phone.

The cat was apparently satisfied with your reaction, because he readjusted himself, as well, curling up so he was taking up more real estate on your lap. You didn’t mind. His little body put off quite a lot of heat, and from what you could feel of him through the blanket, he was cold, too. Eventually, he settled in, his head rested against your leg beside your free hand, his tail flopped into the crook of your elbow, the tip flicking lightly back and forth.

After a moment, you felt him shift again, and you almost jumped when you felt his head press into your hand. It took you a second, and a few more tentative bumps from him, but you eventually opened your hand and allowed him to press his forehead into your palm. You rubbed your thumb gently over the soft fur of his cheek. He leaned into your touch and you could feel him relaxing. You heard the rumbles of a purr start to stutter in his chest. It wasn’t constant like other cats’--it sounded vaguely like popcorn, crackling and popping at random.

You sighed, resting one hand on his back and continuing to stroke his cheek. He stiffened for a moment and raised his head, wide eyes staring into your face, before he slowly started to relax again.

“I can’t keep calling you kitty,” you said softly when he was comfortable. He didn’t raise his head, but his ear swiveled in your direction to show he was paying attention. “And I’m terrible at names, so you’re going to have to figure out a way to tell me what yours is. Unless you want me to call you something ridiculous like Smudge or Shadow.” The cat grunted. Apparently he didn’t like those names, either. “I didn’t think so.”

Your attention returned to the movie, but you kept petting him. His stuttering purr resumed. He directed your hand by nudging it, up his head and down to his shoulder. He adjusted how he was laying so you could rub where the scars of yesterday’s bite marks were. You massaged the area gently, his purring increasing in volume.

His fur was soft and considerably less dirty than it had been that morning. If you concentrated, he smelled like your shampoo.

“I have to take some stuff back to the pet store tomorrow,” you said finally. “So you’ll have some time alone to do whatever.”

He froze, and despite the movie playing, it was quiet without his purring. His eyes were wide, and he hissed, but aside from his ears flattening, he didn’t move. He was scared--no, he was terrified.

It broke your heart.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You kept your voice soft and even. “You can stay here for as long as you’d like. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

You sighed. You still felt a little weird talking so seriously with a cat, but his reactions confirmed what your research had told you. You had questions, and you were a little concerned about the logistics of everything, but you had started to come to terms with it.

Him smelling like your shampoo. The dishes being done. The stolen pillow and blanket. The things that were moved ever so slightly. The oddly appropriate reactions to what you were saying. How fast he had healed. Maybe you’d always known. Maybe that’s why you still talked to him like he was a person.

He was a person, more or less.

Your cat was a hybrid.

As always, your feedback is appreciated. Feel free to pop into my ask box with questions or thoughts about the series. I’d love to hear from you!

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Taglist: @min-yus, @melindagrace31, @shrimpmsg, @ghostkat23, @demcreeps, @ggsmashgg, @findingourtreasure, @20emma0, @springbean, @black-rose-29, @cuteipat, @agustneeds, @deeepvibes, @yzkyzkuniverse, @softbbyg0rl

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi #hybrid yoongi #hybrid yoongi x reader #bts hybrid au #hybrid au #thebtswritersclub #yoongi hybrid au #hybrid bts #hybridyoongi #yoongi hybrid #yoongihybrid #yoongi angst #bts angst #min yoongi angst

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naalbinder · 3 years

Text

phoebe bridgers // elliott smith parallels

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BEfu6YZ7XbdHFZBXthIpN?si=6bf8fc460eba4d33

E - Riot Coming - “Sat down in jail with this friend of mine/Who'd never close both his eyes/But one was shut all the time/To cover the thing he was scared of”

E - Stupidity Tries “To sail across the sea of trash”

E - Going nowhere - “The old records are sitting on the floor/The ones I can’t put on anymore”

E - Clementine - “Anything to pass the time/And keep that song out of your mind”

P - Smoke Signals - “One of your eyes is always half-shut/Something happened when you were a kid” - “burning trash out on the beach” - “You said that song'll creep you out until you're dead”

E - Miss Misery - (music videos on the same street)

E - Easy way out - “While I watch you making mistakes/I wish you luck I really do” “I heard you found another audience to bore”

E - Looking Over My Shoulder - “Another sick rock ‘n’ roller acting like a dick”

E - Placeholder - “I'm the person you'll never need/The biggest loser on sixteenth street” - “Just like my favourite song/Some pretty words that didn't last that long”

P - Motion Sickness - “I'll be glad that I made it out/And sorry that it all went down like it did” “You said when you met me, you were bored” - “Hey, why do you sing with an English accent?/I guess it's too late to change it now”

E - Some Song - “Help me kill my time cause I'll never be fine”

P - Funeral - “Jesus Christ i'm so blue all the time/And that's just how i feel/Always have and i always will ”

E - Bled White - “Happy and sad come in quick succession/I’m never going to become what you became”

P - Demi Moore - “I got a good feeling/It doesn't happen very often”

E - St Ides Heaven - “With an open container from 7/11”

E - A Fond Farewell - “A fond farewell to a friend”

P - Scott Street - “With an open heart, open container” - “Anyway, don’t be a stranger / don’t be a stranger”

E - Last Call - “And I think I’m all done, you can switch me off safely/While i’m lying here for sleep to overtake me”

E - Roman Candle - “I’m a roman candle/My head is full of flames ”

P - Killer - “But when I’m sick and tired/And when my mind is barely there/When a machine keeps me alive/And I’m losing all my hair/I hope you kiss my rotten head/And pull the plug” - “Tame the fire in you”

E - Georgia Georgia

P - Georgia - “Georgia, Georgia, I love your son”

E - Twilight - “That you are already somebody’s baby”

E - See you later - “Made out of a night train”

E - King’s Crossing - “Instruments shine on a silver tray”

P - Chelsea - “You are somebody’s baby” - “For a chemical imbalance/You sure know how to ride a train” - “With a needle on a tray”

E - Christian Brothers - “No bad dream fucker's gonna boss me around/Christian brothers gonna take him down”

P - Would you rather - “Quarantined in a bad dream/He's half the man and you're twice as tall”

E - Son of Sam - “Son of Sam, son of a doctors love a nurses touch/Acting under orders from above”

P - You Missed My Heart - “A feeling of relief came over my soul/I couldn't take it any longer, and I lost control”

E - Bye - (instrumental)

E - New Monkey (Instrumental)

P - DVD Menu - (instrumental)

E - Coming up roses - “And you're coming up roses everywhere you go/Red roses follow”

E - Rose Parade - “Said, Won't you follow me down to the Rose Parade?”

P - Garden Song “They're gluing roses on a flatbed/You should see it, I mean thousands”

E - Condor Ave - “I don’t know what to do with your clothes or your letters”

E - Baby Britain - “Fights problems with bigger problems/Sees the ocean fall and rise/Counts the waves that somehow didn’t hit her/Water pouring from her eyes/Alcoholic and very bitter”

E - Say Yes - “I'm in love with the world/Through the eyes of a girl/Who's still around the morning after”

E - Seen How Things Are Hard - “You just didn't care/You were off getting drunk instead”

E - The Biggest Lie - "Oh, I just told the biggest lie/ I just told the biggest lie/The biggest lie"

P - Kyoto - “And you wrote me a letter/But I don't have to read it” - “I wanted to see the world/Then I flew over the ocean/And I changed my mind” - “I wanted to see the world/Through your eyes until it happened/Then I changed my mind” - “I'm gonna kill you/If you don't beat me to it” - "Guess I lied/I'm a liar/Who lies/'Cause I'm a liar"

E - Memory Lane - “Your little house on memory lane ”

E - Angel in the Snow - “Angel in the snow/all crushed out on the way you are”

E - Last Call - “And I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me”

E - New Monkey - “For the millions of fans ignoring the bands”

E - Waltz #2 - “I'm never gonna know you now/But I'm gonna love you anyhow”

E - Amity - “I'm a neon sign and I stay open all the time”

P - Punisher - “The house where you lived with Snow White” - “But never not sweet to the trust funds and punishers” - “What if I told you/I feel like I know you?/But we never met” - “The drugstores are open all night/The only real reason I moved to the east side”

E - Some Song - “Yeah it's halloween tonight and every night”

E - Pitseleh - “I got a joke I've been dying to tell you/A silent kid is looking down the barrel/To make the noise that I kept so quiet”

P - Halloween - “Baby, it's Halloween” - “I hate living by the hospital/The sirens go all night/I used to joke that if they woke you up/Somebody better be dying”

E - Shooting Star - “So bad, so far/You made me sad/Shooting star/You're distant and cold/And a sight to behold/Everybody just sighs”

E - Satellite - “When they call it a lover's moon, the satellite/'Cause it acts just like lovers do, the satellite/A burned-out world you know/Staying up all night/The satellite”

E - Everything Reminds Me of Her - “Why are you staring into outer space, crying?/Just because you came across it and lost it”

P - Chinese Satellite - “Took a tour to see the stars/But they weren't out tonight/So I wished hard on a Chinese satellite” - “Sometimes, when I can't sleep/It's just a matter of time before I'm hearing things” b- “Instead, I look at the sky and I feel nothing/You know I hate to be alone/I want to be wrong”

E - Coast to Coast - “Still you're keeping me around/'Til I finally drag us both down (Gonna drag us both down)”

E - Little one - “The moonlight tonight/Seems to belong to me” - “One more/Little one, I love you”

E - Coming up Roses - “The moon is a sickle cell/It'll kill you in time” “While the moon does its division/You're buried below”

E - Everything Means Nothing to Me - “At attention, looking backward in a pool of water/Wishes with a blue songbird on his shoulder/Who keeps singing over everything”

E - Pretty Mary K (Other Version) - “oh Mary K, I can see your face/down there in the waves, painted and erased/but I know it's just a reflection of the moon”

P - Moon song - (52) “You asked to walk me home/But I had to carry you” - (53) “And if I could give you the moon/I would give you the moon” - (54) “You are sick and you're married/And you might be dying” - (55/56) “And you pushed me in/And now my feet can't touch the bottom of you” “But you're holding me like water in your hands/When you saw the dead little bird”

E - New Disaster - “Everybody is the same in this long no-win game/Where every new blood/Gets time to become resigned” - “Until everyone knows that your smile is just a ghost/The ghost of your smile was seen on a body in the park”

P - Savior Complex - “Baby, you're a vampire/You want blood and I promised” - “All the bad dreams that you hide/Show me yours, I'll show you mine”

E - Oh well, Ok - “If you get a feeling next time you see me/Do me a favor and let me know/Cause it's hard to tell, it's hard to say 'oh well, Ok'”

E - Last Call - “You're a tongueless talker/You don't care what you say”

E - Angel in the Snow - “Only a cold still life/ that fell down here to lay beside you”

P - ICU - (58) “But I feel something when I see you now/I feel something when I see you” - (59) “I hate your mom/I hate it when she opens her mouth/It's amazing to me/How much you can say/When you don't know what you're talking about” - “laying down on the lawn” “if you’re a work of art/I’m standing too close/I can see the brush strokes”

E - Happiness / The Gondola Man - “What I used to be/Will pass away and then you'll see/That all I want now/Is happiness for you and me”

E - Whatever (Folk Song in C) - “Whatever you're doing now would probably suit me fine/If you're all done, like you said you'd be/What are you doing hanging out with me?”

E - Big Ballad of Nothing - “You can do what you want to whenever you want to/You can do what you want to there's no one to stop you”

P - Graceland too - “Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment” - “Whatever she wants (Whatever you want)”

E - Bottle up and Explode “Bottle up and go/I can make it outside”

E - A Distorted Reality is Now a Necessity to be Free - “God knows why my country don't give a fuck” - “Shine on me baby, because it's raining in my heart”

E - Alphabet Town - “Alphabet City is haunted”

P - I Know The End - “There's no place like my room” - “To some America First rap country song” “Driving out into the sun/Let the ultraviolet cover me up”- “I'll find a new place to be from/A haunted house with a picket fence”

#phoebe bridgers #elliott smith #playlist

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fanfic-archive · 3 years

Text

Meeting the Baron (6/7)

Chapter 6. The Wilsons

Summary: Your short vacation is interrupted by a call from a friend. You head back to the States to help Sam and his sister fix up their family boat, and once you’ve finished Zemo is waiting for you to return to him.

Warnings: NSFW

Word Count: 4206

The sound of your phone ringing woke you up from a peaceful sleep. It was early morning, the sun just beginning to seep in through the curtains, casting a slight but warm glow through the room. With a groan, you rolled over and reached for the nightstand, picking up your phone and looking at the caller ID. Bucky’s name illuminated your screen, making you squint, before answering the call and bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Buck. What’s up?” you asked, sleep audible in your voice, as you let your eyes flutter shut again.

“You sound like you’ve just woken up” Bucky commented, clearly more awake than you were.

“I have” you groaned, hearing the movement of sheets behind you.

“Well, think you can make it back home for a little while?” he asked, making you wake up some more.

“Got news about the Flag Smashers?” you asked, eyes opening again, suddenly ready to jump out of bed and get ready.

“No, don’t worry…Sam’s doing this thing, getting the community together to help fix his family’s boat. I’m going to drop something off for him anyway so I’m going to stay and help. You coming?” Bucky explained and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, of course. How can I say no to that?” you agreed to go, always happy to help out your two friends, even when you weren’t in the country. You couldn’t help but smile a little more when you felt the man behind you shifting closer, wrapping his arm around you as his chest pressed against your back. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, I’ll be on the next flight” you assured him as you relaxed into Zemo’s hold.

“You still in Riga?” Bucky asked curiously as you started to feel Zemo pressing light kisses to the back of your neck.

“No, uh…decided to explore some more of Europe. It’s nice” you told him, being partially honest, obviously not mentioning the criminal…who was now trailing kisses over your exposed shoulder.

“You going to head back after fixing up the boat?” he questioned, wondering if you would be remaining in the States when you came back.

You looked back at Zemo, who lifted his head to meet your gaze. He didn’t speak but it seemed like he was waiting for your answer as well. “Yeah, I think so. But I’m always a phone call away if you need anything, same goes for Sam” you answered without breaking eye contact with Zemo.

“You better be” you could hear Bucky’s smile, which made you smile in return as you settled back down against the pillow, Zemo’s kisses against your bare skin resuming.

“Bye, Bucky. I’ll see you soon”

“See you soon”

Hanging up the phone, you placed it back down on the bed side table. “What do they need?” Zemo asked, finally speaking once the call had ended.

“Sam is having some people get together to fix up his family’s boat, help his sister out” you explained, turning around in his embrace to face him, resting your hands against his chest.

“Should I have travel prepared?” he offered without hesitation, surprising you a little. It was generous and you appreciated it.

“Please?” you looked up at him with an innocent smile and batting your lashes, the best pleading look you could muster.

“Consider it done, Meine geliebte” Helmut chuckled lightly to himself, wrapping his arm around your waist more securely.

Slipping your hands up his chest, one hand landed on the back of his neck as you lent up and kissed him. He instantly responded to the kiss, bringing one hand up to cup your jaw, deepening the kiss and making you hum in approval.

Normally, you didn’t like flying much at all. It wasn’t a fear of heights or anything that bothered you, it was the discomfort of it all. Waiting around in an airport before sitting in cramped seats for hours (especially if you were going somewhere outside of the States), none of it appealed to you and you would just rather avoid going anywhere than deal with all of that regularly. But your most recent flights had been more than comfortable, with excellent food and even better company. Instead of counting down the hours to your arrival, the plane was landing before you knew it.

You said your goodbyes to Zemo on the plane before getting into a car. You had no idea what he planned to do while you were with Sam and Bucky, but you assumed he would stay in the country. It made you worry for him, he would have a harder time avoiding arrest while in the States but, for some reason, he was taking that risk for you. Still, you were sure that he had a plan and would be fine. You would just make sure to stay in contact with him to make sure.

Finally, you had arrived at Sarah’s home, making you way through a whole community of people who were busying themselves with various jobs around the dock.

Getting closer to the house, you spotted Sam and Bucky talking to a woman that you recognised as Sam’s sister, Sarah.

“Hey!” you called to get their attention, waving when the three of them turned to you. “Sorry, I’m late” you apologise as you reached the trio.

“How did you even know about this?” Sam asked, clearly surprised to see you here. Bucky must not have mentioned it.

“Bucky called me” you told him, chuckling when Sam gave Bucky a small glare. “Oh, come on, I have some practical skills and some time to kill. Let me help” you knew that Sam wouldn’t like the idea of bringing you all the way to the US to help repair a boat, but you really didn’t mind.

“Thanks for coming” Sam was glad to see you, so he decided against chastising the two of you and settled for giving you a smile and a hug instead.

After pulling away from Sam, you gave Bucky a hug and then turned to Sarah.

“Hi, I’m Y/n” you introduced yourself, holding your hand out to her. You only knew her from what Sam had mentioned of his family, the two of you had never actually met.

“Sarah” she shook your hand with a smile. “Do you know much about boats?” she asked, releasing your hand.

“Honestly, nothing at all, but I’m a quick leaner. You can put me on lunch duty if you need too” you offered, happy to help in any way you could.

“Come on, we have plenty of jobs for you” Sarah smiled, both pleased and amused by your enthusiasm.

You were on the boat with Sam, helping him strip away the rusted metal to be replaced with new stuff.

“So, how are your travels going?” Sam asked, starting up a conversation.

“I was in Vienna when I got Bucky’s call, it’s nice. It’s kinda nice to be back, though” you told him with a smile. He smiled but shook his head at you, he had never seen you as the type of be interested in travelling. Then again, it’s not like you were actually in Vienna because of your wanderlust.

“Planning on going back after this?” he looked over at you, chuckling when he saw you struggling to pry the metal off. Not that he was doing much better.

“Unless something comes up with the Flag Smashers, yeah” you nodded.

“What got you so interested in travelling anyway?” Sam squinted at you, half joking but half teasing but half serious.

“I don’t know…I’ve been living in the same apartment, doing the same dumb shit for years. And it wasn’t much better before that. I just think it’s time that I try to find out what else is out there for me” you shrugged. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be back for good by the end of the year, but I have to give it a shot” you told him honestly.

Having seen you both struggling, Bucky wandered over, grabbing the rusted metal with his metal hand, and ripping it up with ease. Both you and Sam glared at him as he walked away without saying a word.

“Show off” you muttered, making Sam laugh to himself before you both got back to work.

The day passed quickly, filled with working on the boat and getting to know the people you found yourself working with. Before you knew it, Sarah was letting you crash on her couch. You and Bucky had offered to find somewhere else to stay but the Wilson siblings insisted on you both staying with them.

You and Bucky had fought over the couch, both of you trying to be the generous one, but Bucky reminded you that he normally slept on the floor anyway. So, you got the couch.

Despite working all day and your body being completely exhausted, you couldn’t sleep. Just staring at the ceiling of the dimly lit living room while your mind ran wild. And the main thing occupying your thoughts? Helmut Zemo.

You had been distracted all day but now that it was silent, you were thinking about him again. Thinking about what the two of you were and where you stood with each other. Where the two of you dating? You were staying with him, he took you on a date, you kiss, you sleep together…you had to be dating. But he was a criminal, the man who broke apart the Avengers.

Why would he come back for you if he didn’t feel what you felt? You weren’t an ex-Avenger or anything like that, you weren’t like Sam or Bucky, he didn’t gain any leverage by pretending to have feelings for you. You couldn’t offer him anything like that…so he had to feel the same way you did.

Then the question was…how did you feel about Zemo? You wanted to be around him as much as possible, you liked him…you liked him a lot. But could you properly be with him, knowing who he is and what he has done? Oddly enough, you found the answer being ‘yes’.

Whatever was going on between you both, you found yourself wanting to call him. And so, you did. You grabbed your phone off of the table and scrolled for his number. You hadn’t been stupid enough to put his number under his real name, just in case he called, or Sam or Bucky saw.

You hesitated for a moment, glancing over to Bucky, who was laying on the floor, to check he was still sleeping. He was, so you pressed call.

“Miss me already, Liebling?” Zemo’s voice came through the phone when he answered.

“You wish” you teased by just hearing his voice put a smile on your face. You didn’t want to linger on the effect he had on you or how hard you might be falling. “Just wondering how you are…where you went” you confessed.

“I have arranged a place to stay until you are finished. Where are you staying?” he asked.

“…Sarah’s couch” you told him, smiling again when you heard his disapproving hum. “Relax, it’s not that bad. It’s a nice couch” you assured him with a quiet laugh.

“Is that why you’re whispering?” he questioned.

“Well, Bucky is next to me, I don’t want to wake him up” you hummed in affirmative.

There was a pause for a moment, the line going quiet. “…repeat that” Zemo ordered lowly before you could question the silence.

The demand made you smirk to yourself. “He’s on the floor” you clarified. “Didn’t realise you were the jealous type” you teased. In reality, you really didn’t mind. You kind of liked that he was jealous.

“I’m not” he insisted, making your smirk grow. “How is the boat?” he asked.

“It’s all coming together. I’m exhausted though” you admitted with a small groan.

“Must be all that manual labour” now you could hear Zemo smirking on the other side of the phone. Knowing you were working hard on the dock while he was probably in a soft bed with silky sheets.

“Should only take a couple more days” you informed him.

“Just call when you need me to send a car” he reminded you.

“I’ll get a cab” you assured him, not needing him to send a car. You could live like a normal person for one day.

“I will send a car” Zemo insisted, leaving no room for argument.

“Alright…” you sighed, giving into him. “…goodnight” you figured you best try to get some sleep before morning came.

“Goodnight, Meine geliebte. Sleep well” his tone was sweet, sincere. You smiled as you hung up the phone, placing it back down on the table.

“So, that’s why you’re so eager to get back” Bucky’s voice from the floor made you jump.

“Holy shit” you chuckled nervously, playing it off that he spooked you, “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was, you wouldn’t shut up” he groaned, rolling over to face you.

“Sorry…” you apologised, feeling genuinely bad for waking him. You knew his sleeping was even worse than yours.

“It’s alright. So…you met somebody?” Bucky asked, an amused expression on his face.

“No” you denied but he looked more than unconvinced. “Okay, maybe…yes, I met someone” you gave in, knowing you couldn’t lie to him.

“What’s he like?” he sat up, happy to annoy you but also interested in learning more about what was going on with you.

“…treats me well, he’s nice” you told him, just glad that he hadn’t heard Zemo’s voice over the phone.

“Well, that’s vague” he laughed to himself, “you could’ve brought him with you.”

“Absolutely not” you scoffed. There was no chance in that happening.

“Worried we’ll embarrass you?” Bucky asked jokingly.

“Of course” you joked back, the two of you laughing.

“What are you two gossiping about?” Sam asked as he walked into the room. He had only come for a drink until he heard the two of you talking, he thought you would be asleep by now.

“Y/n’s new boyfriend” Bucky teased, like a child.

“Boyfriend?” Sam asked, eyebrows raising in surprise as he looked at you.

“He’s not my boyfriend” you rolled your eyes.

“But there is someone?” Sam smirked.

You just groaned in annoyance, picking up your pillow and holding it over your face, hearing them both laughing.

Finally, the work on the boat was finished and the three of you were going your separate ways once again, but Sam and Bucky seemed to be becoming better friends, which you were happy about. The three of you were standing outside of Sarah’s home, saying your goodbyes.

“Good luck, Buck” you gave him a smile as you pulled away from the friendly hug.

“You too” Bucky nodded, patting you on the shoulder before grabbing his bag and leaving.

Sam smiled at you as you turned to him. “You’ll make a wonderful Captain America, Sam. And not just because Steve thought so” you told him as you pulled him into a hug.

“Thanks” he nodded, seeming to take your words seriously. “Have fun with your boyfriend” he teased as you pulled away from him.

“Shut up” you rolled your eyes with a huff before grabbing your own bag and walking away. “Don’t hesitate to call!” you shouted back over your shoulder as you left, while Sam just waved you off with a shake of the head.

Just like he promised, Zemo had sent a car that brought you back to the private plane. You could really get used to living like this.

“Welcome back, Miss L/n” Oeznik greeted you when you entered the plane. “Did you enjoy your trip?” he asked, offering you a glass of champagne.

“I did, thank you, Oeznik” you smiled, accepting the glass as he stepped aside for you to join Zemo before disappearing to give you both some privacy.

He was sitting in one of the chairs, his own glass of champagne in his hand. “How did it go?” Zemo asked as you sat down opposite him.

“Good. They decided not to sell the boat, but it looks like everything is going to alright” you told him, sipping from your drink.

“I’m glad to hear it” he nodded, drinking from his own glass.

“…I think Sam is going to take on the shield” you mentioned, curious to see his reaction.

“Ah, the new Captain America” Zemo hummed, obviously not a fan of the idea or the title.

“Don’t look like that. I actually agree with your opinions on idols but…they’re going to have a Captain America and it has to be Sam. Who knows what would happen if we got a new John Walker” you sighed, knowing Sam was the best candidate for the role.

“I might actually agree with you” he confessed with a small nod, making you smile. “And James?” he asked.

“I think he’s getting better. You know that list of his?” you asked, and he nodded, “I think he’s realised what he needs to do, I just hope he can move on afterwards. He deserves it.”

“The Flag Smashers?” he asked.

“No news. They’ll call me if there is” you finished updating him.

Before you knew it, the plane was in the in the air and you were on the way to wherever you were going. “So, where are we heading?” you asked.

“I thought I’d take you somewhere new” Zemo smiled, getting your interest as you tried to guess where he was taking you this time.

You glanced out of the window and the ground miles below before placing your glass down and standing up. “You know, Baron…” you hummed as you approached him, placing your hands on his shoulders as you straddled him. “…I missed you” you confessed, shifting to make yourself more comfortable.

“I missed you too, Meine geliebte” Zemo looked up at you, hands instantly settling on your hips as he lent back into the comfortable chair. His confession made you smile, and he noticed.

Leaning in, you captured his lips in a kiss. It wasn’t needy or rushed, but it was passionate, like being away for only a few days had felt so much longer. You both groaned quietly into the kiss when you shifted your hips, accidently brushing against him and making his grip on your hips tighten.

“Oeznik could come in” you whispered, pulling away from the kiss when you both knew exactly where this was going.

“He won’t, not unless I call for him” Zemo assured you, running a soothing hand up and you’re your waist. “Just have to be quiet, Vöglein. Can you do that?” he asked, pressing a kiss just below your ear, earning a soft sigh from you.

You just nodded, though you weren’t actually so sure that you would be able to remain silent. But you cupped his face in your hands and kissed him again anyway, with a newfound fervour. You meant what you said, you had missed him, you wanted this, needed this, but you knew that you had to be quick.

You tried to pull away from the kiss, smiling when Zemo followed you, hands sliding up your waist and back. After keeping you against him for a moment longer, he broke the kiss and lent back again.

He released you when you moved to stand up, your hands making quick work of the fasten of your jeans. You shimmied out of your pants and underwear, kicking them to the side before beginning to climb back onto the chair.

Stopping you from straddling him again, Zemo gripped your hips. He manoeuvred you to stand between his legs and lent forward to trail kisses over your stomach. As he pressed kisses to your flushed skin, hands holding up the hem of your tee-shirt to give him better access, you ran your fingers through his hair, admiring the way he looked and the way he touched you.

Once he finished with scattering kisses over your stomach and hips, making sure to leave a small bruise on your hip as a small reminder for later, he lent back and pulled you back down onto his lap, making you yelp in surprise. But you found your balance pretty quickly, hands gripping his shoulders as you adjusted your knees on either side of his hips.

A hand on the back of your neck pulled you down into a heated kiss while you dropped your hands to his lap, shifting back a little to unfasten his belt and pants. He helped you pull his pants down just enough to free him before grabbing you by the hips and pulling you back into place, so that you rocked against him in a way that made you both groan into the kiss.

Pulling away from the kiss again, you glanced over your shoulder, paranoia about getting caught resurfacing. “Liebling…” Zemo spoke gently, his fingertips grazing your cheek and making you turn back to face him, “eyes on me.”

You nodded, circling your arms around his neck as you lowered yourself down onto him. A sigh falling past your lips and your forehead dropping against his shoulder as you stilled, adjusting to the feeling of him. His hand soothed up and down your back, nuzzling his face into your hair as he held you close.

Zemo kissed your temple before you lifted your head, beginning to rise and fall in his lap. You couldn’t help it, but a moan escaped you when you found the right rhythm. To shush you, he pulled you down into another kiss. Muffling the noises that the two of you made.

You knew that you had to be quick, you didn’t have the time nor the privacy that you had that night after dinner in Vienna. There wasn’t time to savour everything but there would be time for that in the future, right now was needy, a quick ‘I missed you’. Zemo also wished that there was more time, wanting to cherish you like you deserved, but he also knew that there would be time for that later.

“Fuck…Helmut…” you breathed, burying your face into his shoulder to quieten yourself. Zemo’s head fell back against the headrest, eyes falling shut as he dug his fingers into your hips.

It wasn’t long before he sensed that you were both teetering on the edge of your climaxes, causing him to bury his fingers in your hair as he lifted your head from his shoulder to look at your face. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as your movements faltered, becoming less controlled.

Feeling the rush of your release coursing through you, you pressed your lips to Zemo’s, muffling a moan of his name. His high directly followed yours, the two of you holding each other and breathing heavily as you came down from your highs.

Your forehead rested against his, eyes shut, lips parted, and skin flushed. Zemo pressed a light kiss to your lips, running his hands up your bare thighs, before going back to admiring the way you looked on top of him.

“Du bist wunderschön” Zemo complimented sincerely, a fondness, an affection, in his tone. You had learnt a little bit of various other languages during your time with Zemo, mainly just the petnames and compliment that he would endlessly give you. The compliments were frequent but always sincere, it made it difficult to doubt him when he called you beautiful like he just did. You just smiled, gently caressing his cheek before tenderly kissing him again.

With a soft sigh, dropped your head to his shoulder for a moment. Zemo just smiled, turning his head to bury his face in your hair.

Knowing you couldn’t sit there for much longer without any pants on, Zemo helped you off of his lap, fastening his pants and belt as you pulled your underwear and jeans back on. Before you knew it, you were back in your chair opposite the Baron, Oeznik pouring you both fresh glasses of champagne while you shared glances and soft smiles.

“When can we expect your friends to call again?” Zemo asked once the two of you were alone again.

“Whenever the Flag Smashers make their next move” you told him with a sigh.

“And after that, what are your plans?” he was watching you intently, like he was trying to put together your answer before you even spoke.

“After that, when the job is done, I’m all yours” you smiled, not hesitating on your answer. You liked the idea of having all the time in the world to spend with Zemo but right now you had helped start a job and you had to finish it.

“Now, that sounds like an agreeable conclusion for the both of us” Helmut’s mouth twitched into a small smirk as he sipped from his glass.

“It does” you agreed with a small laughing, shaking your head at him.

“I’m glad you decided to stay, Meine geliebte” Zemo confessed, his expression falling serious as he looked across at you.

“So am I, Meine geliebte” you said with the same level of seriousness, earning a fond smile from the Baron before you both finished your drinks.

Meeting the Baron Taglist:

@viviace @hannahbal-the-fannibal @multiplums @aliceblxck @sophiasescape @ikittiekat @greeneyedblondie44

(Just ask to be added!)

#Helmut Zemo x reader #Zemo x reader #Baron Zemo x reader #helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #daniel bruhl x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

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miyaniacs · 3 years

Text

The One Night Stand pt. 6

Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader / Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Part 1 ; Pt. 2 ; Pt. 3; Pt. 4 ; Pt. 5

A/n: anddd angst is hereeeeeee - feedback is always welcome :) it act hurt to write this lol can you tell I had a small mental breakdown yesterday haha but at least it helped to write this chapter here :)

Warnings: angst; not proof read; nsfw ( minors do not read this), usage of the word whore, rough / angry sex

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader , Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

Form: oneshot / short story

The whole ride home you stayed quiet. The image of Toji and the other women kissing, just wouldn’t leave your mind. And it did not stop there.

Your mind is creating all those scenarios. Scenarios that tell you that whenever he was on the phone, when you were with him, he was texting her, telling her about how badly he wants to see her again, telling her when you’d leave so she can come over. Him telling her about how bad you are and annoyed, her laying in his arms, naked with her perfect body, laughing about how pathetic you sound. How pathetic you ARE. Crushing on your best friend, fucking with another that is way out of your league, who’s probably just doing it for laughs. Who are you kidding? He definitely did it just for laughs. Saying all those things to you, to get a reaction out of you, just so he can make fun of it later on with her - or even during it, texting her how stupid you are. How fun it is to mess with you, how you started to look at him differently. How he waits at the door when you left, just to wrap his arms around her small frame, just seconds after you left. His hands on her thighs, lifter her up, placing his lips on hers while carrying her inside, laying her down on the bed, you were in just minutes ago.

Hell he was probably seeing her whenever he was away for missions.

Have they all been missions? Or was it just a weekend he wanted to spent with her and get away from you?

But... how are you to judge? You used him... to get over your best friend... And ended up falling for him instead. You never even questioned if he has someone else. You’ve been totally egoistic the whole time, he could have been in an open relationship with her. Toji isn’t one to tell you things by himself, but you never even thought of asking him?

All you did was use him, complain to him and in the end just leave.

Are you really in the position to cry now?

You feel a soft hand touching your arm.

“Hey, were back home.” You look into the blue eyes of your... boyfriend? Can you really consider him as your boyfriend, knowing that you stopped loving him weeks ago? Even before he officially became your boyfriend?

“Satoru.. I - “ His hand cups your cheek and you stopped talking.

“Let’s get inside... I feel like we both need to confess things.” He smiles sadly.

So here you are now. Sitting on the couch in his apartment starring at his inhumanly blue eyes, waiting for him to start talking.

“So... I’m not blind. Even tho most of the time I look like I am..” he jokes, but quickly stopped the second he sees your emotionale expression, “ Well... I know you like him.” He licks his lips and avoids your gaze.

“Satoru... look I’m sorry, I did not plan on playing you... I - I really thought that I still love you.” You whisper and fiddles with your fingers, “ I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“You did not... I- I’m actually relived.” He sighs and looks down. You’re eyes shoot up and you stare at his face.

“What?” Your body begins to shiver as you watch his lips open, the words leaving them seem unreal. Your brain refuses to accept that this is the truth, but the way he looks directly at you, his eyes showing nothing but honesty, you start to shake.

“How long did you plan to keep this act up?” You whisper.

“I hoped that it wouldn’t be an act the whole time... and that I learn to love you ... the way you do.. or did.” His eyes study your face, looking for any sign of emotion. Your eyes get glassy. Your body shakes. Your mouth is slightly open, but no words leave your lips. The tears now run freely down your face.

“Hey... Y/n..” He tries to pull you into a hug, to give you the hold and safety his hugs always provide you, but you quickly jump up and step away from him.

“Don’t touch me.” you’re voice shakes and is barely over a whisper, yet he heard your words and sees the hurt in your eyes. “Just.... don’t - don’t talk to me again... I - just leave me alone.” You walk backwards, your hands grab your hair, your brain can’t fully understand everything that is happening right now.

Gojo on the other hand knows exactly what is happening.

And he feels his heart break.

He is loosing his best friend.

The one person that always stayed at his side, since school you where with him and you stayed. You stayed during the whole mess his life used to be, or is.

You were the only person the felt comfortable with to truly open up to.

“Y/n... please. Don’t leave. Don’t leave me.” He whispers and stands up, still keeping his distance from you.

“DO YOU FEEL LIKE I WANT TO STAY WITH YOU NOW?” You scream, all your emotions crushing down on you all at once.

“No - no... just - it’s late, just stay here and I leave... I’ll stay away for how long I need to ... I don’t want anything to happen to you...” he looks at you with pleading eyes.

“HOW DO YOU THINK I CAN STAY HERE - IN YOUR HOUSE...where ... where everything reminds me of you...” you whisper the last part. Your hands grab the handle of the door, taking a deep breath you open it and look over your shoulder.

“Goodbye Gojo.”

“How long?” He whispers, his voice shakes.

“I - I don’t know.” You say and look at his eyes, tears running down on both of your faces.

Then you close the door and hurry out of the apartment complex.

On the other side of the door, Gojo collapse.

All of his muscles gave up working, he simply lays on the floor, not really able to breath, thanks to the knot in his throat.

He lost you.

He lost his best friend.

The person he saw himself still joking around when you are both old and your hair colors would finally match.

But he failed. He wanted to give you everything, make you happy, he would have done everything for you, not caring about his own feelings, he just wanted you to be happy.

You - the person he cares the most about.

But at the end, he hurt you and he lost you.

Lost you like he always looses everyone close to him.

With all the strength he has left, he takes out his phone and calls the only person he trust with all of this mess.

“Gojo. It’s 2am. And I just came back home.What do you want.” Nanami sighs.

“Please, find Y/n.” He whispers.

“What? Shouldn’t she be with you?”

“I- I told her...” his voice breaks.

“I’ll save the whole ‘ I’ve told you this would happen’ speech.” Nanami sighs. Why does he have to be involved in this mess.

“Nanami please, I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“I’m on my way.” Nanami hangs up and puts on his shoes.

___

Why did you left him.

Yes what he did was wrong... but his intention wasn’t... you should not have been so hard to him. Not after all he had to go though... and after all he did for you.

He was okay with giving up his ‘hoe’ life just for your happiness.

Also... are you really okay with loosing your best friend?

You need him. And you know he needs you too. You two have always been there for each other, he trusts you and you trust him. You’re actually questing if you‘ve ever really loved him the way you felt you did. The feelings you felt for him and the ones you feel for Toji are … different. Maybe you never really loved before … and truth to be told, you longed for that feeling of someone loving you. Of someone holding you at night, kissing you, of not being alone when you make dinner… of not feeling unloved.

Maybe … your brain really just made you imagine those feelings for Gojo … yes you love him. And he loves you … but at this point … you realize that it’s the same way you love an family member… because that’s what he is for you… family.

Should you just walk back and talk things out with him.

Yes. Yes that would be the most mature thing to do.

But - no . You decided to be childish and let him suffer.

You don’t want to be the one who apologizes, yet you know that he will also not come and beg on for your forgiveness. Not because of his ego... but because he knows how much he hurt you and he doesn’t want to cause you more pain. So at the end you’ll have to go back to him.

Talking about going back... where are you going right now?

Looking around yourself, you groan.

No.

No .

NO.

Why the actual fuck did your feet walk you over to his.

But... but maybe it was meant to be?

Looking up you see light shining through his window.

Should you just... walk up... and knock in his door?

But what if she is still there, what if she opens the door, in one of his shirts, looking flawless, while you stand there, red puffy eyes, your make-up smudged... No. No you will not be that desperate.

Looking around you spot a bench and sit down.

Your eyes are fixed on the window and your mind starts creating scenarios again.

What is he doing right now? You really want to believe that he’s alone - nether the less your mind won’t let you.

In your head he’s laying in his bed. The women straddling him, running her hands up and down his tones body. Her lips leaving marks on his neck, his eyes are closed, yet the smug smirk is still visible on his face.

His hands grabbing her hips, grinding her against him, a deep growl escapes his lips, as she sits up, bouncing up and down on him- the sound of your phone gets your back to reality.

Without looking at the ID you answer your phone, hoping you’ll be able to hear Tojis deep voice.

“Y/n.”

“Nanami?” You blink a few times, not expecting him to call you at this time of the day.

“Where are you?”

“Home.” You lie.

“No you’re not. I’m at your home and you’re not there.” He sighs, “I know what happened. So where are you?”

“Did Gojo ask you to find me?” You roll your eyes.

“Yes. He’s worried about you.” He says in a calm voice.

“Wow isn’t he a wonderful person.” You roll your eyes.

“I am too. I just want to be sure you’re save.” He says sincerely.

“I am. I just need some time alone.” You sigh. The light in the window went off.

“... I don’t feel good with leaving you alone at night in this city.”

“I promise I’ll call you when I don’t feel save.” You smile.

“... I can’t convince you to let me pick you up?” He sighs again.

“No.”

“... well... just don’t go to inside.” He hangs up.

You look around confused and see the silhouette of a men walking away.

He knew exactly where you where.

Why are you not surprised.

Then you see something moving in the corner of your eyes.

There’s a person walking - more like storming out of the building.

The clicking of her heels echoes though the street.

Her long dark hair, flows in the wind, even now her hips sway perfectly even with her aggressive walking.

Was this the women from the bar?

Does this mean he’s alone now?

‘Don’t go inside.’ You repeat the words Nanami told you over and over - as you make your way towards the entrance.

From the distance Nanami watches you. He knew you wouldn’t listen. Looking up he shakes his head, again why is he involved in this. Or better - why did he let himself getting involved in all of this.

“Gojo.”

Another man steps out of the shadows.

“How long have you been here?” Nanami asks.

“I followed her.” He admits.

“And why did you call me up then?” He looks at him annoyed.

“In case she needed someone to talk …” Gojo stares at her figure entering the building.

“Do you think it will end well?” He looks at Nanami.

“Depends on how stubborn Fushiguro will be.”

“So I’ll better stay in case she ends up crying again.”

“You think she’ll want to see you then?” Nanami raises an eyebrow.

“No… but at least I can teach him a lesson for hurting her.” He says and his lips form a tight line.

“… I don’t think you’re in any position to judge.” Nanami shakes his head, “Go now. I’ll stay a bit longer.”

“But -“

“No. Go.” Gojo sighs and turns around.

“Gojo - I know you think you’ve lost her as your best friend … but I don’t think that’s the case. At least not for too long.” Gojo stops for a seconds, his eyes lightning up behind his glasses.

“I hope you’re right.” He says and leaves.

- some time before -

This doesn’t feel right.

His hips slam against her ass, one of his hands grab her waist, the other her hair.

Whenever she moans, he feels like throwing up.

Her voice sounds so wrong.

His hands release her body and grab her face from the back, shoving his fingers in her mouth, trying to muffle what ever she’s saying. Closing his eyes he tries to ignore who is fucking, one of his hands moves down and wraps around her throat. Pulling her towards him, her head falls over his shoulder, while he mercilessly continues fucking her. Some inhuman sounds leave her body, while Toji let’s all of his anger out on her.

He knows it’s not you, but with his eyes closed he can project all of the imagines of you, which he saved in his mind, on this girl and hopefully be able to reach his climax soon. Your beautiful face, the way your lips part whenever he touches you at this one spot, how beautiful his name sounds whenever you moan it…

“Omg Tojiii - I missed this so much.” She moans. Opening his eyes he grits his teeth.

“Shut the fuck up you stupid whore.” He says and the hand around her throat tightens.

He really tries to imagine it being you that’s being with him right now, but he can’t.

She doesn’t look like you, doesn’t sound like you, doesn’t feel like you - she’s simply isn’t you.

He let’s go of her face and throat and pulls out of her.

Trying to catch her breath she looks at him confused.

“Toji? Babe?”

Not even sparing her a glance he gets up and puts on some sweatpants.

“Not in the mood.” He huffs.

“Let me help you get into it thennnn.” She crawls over the bad and her hands reach to the hem of his sweatpants.

“No.” He steps back and grabs her clothes throwing them at her.

“Leave.”

“What?”

“I said leave.”

“But - but daddy we always had so much fun together …” she smirks and looks up at him.

“I said. Get. The fuck. Out. Of. My. Home.” He growls.

“Is it because of that slut?!” She angrily pulls on her dress, glaring at Toji who pulls out one of his cigarettes.

“Wow. Haven’t you told me at first that you’re just messing with her to annoy this guy with the white hair ?! And that I’m way better in bed than her?!” She huffs.

“I lied.” He says and blows the smoke in her face.

“Oh so some ugly fucking slut stole your he-“

Tojis grabs her face, squishing her cheeks inwards.

“I dare you, Max, call her a slut one more time.” His green eyes glow as he pushes her away, making her fall back on the bed.

“You bastard.” Max says and slips in her heals storming towards the door.

“Don’t call me again - like ever.”

“Never did - you were the one blowing up my phone ” He laughs as she slams the door.

Turning off the lights, he sighs and falls down on his sofa. His head rolls back and he stares at the ceiling.

He shouldn’t have left with her.

Deep down he knew that this would help him getting over you.

He looks at his phone.

Should he just call you?

No. You’re probably busy with Gojo right now.

His heart stings at the thought of it.

One of his hands massages his temples. He can’t stop thinking about you.

Oh how he wished that you were here with him right now.

In his arms, telling him about anything and everything.

Every second he spends with you seemed so easy and peaceful. He never felt that way since he lost Megumis mother.

A knock on the door interrupts him from fully embracing this depressed episode.

“I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE MAX!” He screams angrily.

“Toji… ?” A soft broken voice calls out his name and his eyes shoot open.

Taglist: @laceymorganwrites @ereeeeehhh @gojoscumslut @channieboii @alltimeluw ( I’ll tag you since you binged the first chapters) I hope it’s okay 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 ) : @cocotaku420 , @angelofthorr , @sukunas-cult-leader

#jjk oneshots #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo headcanons #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs #gojo x reader #gojo hcs #toji x you #toji imagine #toji x reader #toji hcs #jjk angst

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bodyswapmischief · 4 years

Text

Carrying my Father's Weight

I can't believe the person I was looking at was me. I looked at myself in the mirror and I patted my beefy stomach. Although it might not seem like it, this was the fittest I've been, since puberty. I ended highschool weighing 280lbs. Coming into college I feared the freshman 15. But, I knew I couldn't let that happen. Now, I stand here weighing 220lbs. My first year of college completed and ready to go home. Even though I don't have abs yet, I can't wait to show off my progress.

However, I would be lying if I didn't say I dreaded going back and seeing my dad. He's not mean or abusive. In fact he was a really good dad. Growing up, it was just me and him. After my mom died, my dad's whole life changed. Instead of falling into a depression, he started working out. He transformed from average chubby dad body to hot as fuck personal trainer.

However his good genetics skipped me. As a kid I was skinny. But once puberty hit, my metabolism just went down the drain. And, I piled on weight non stop. It felt awkward being the fat son of a personal trainer. He tried hard to make me feel better about myself. We went to doctors but nothing worked. But, I still felt like shit looking at him walk around shirtless, get all the attention from my ladies, and be admired by my teachers and friends. Most people couldn't believe I was his son.

The worst part is that by the time I was a senior in highschool, we looked the same age. How is that possible, you wonder. I have know idea, and I would like the answer myself. It probably help he had me when he was young. He was 16 when he got my mom pregnant. But still, he looked like he was in his mid 20s. I on the other hand, probably, prematurely aged because how fat I was. Instead of looking 17, I looked like I was, also l, in my mid 20s. Most people thought we were brothers and a few people mistaked me for the older brother.

But, it wasn't all bad. Yeah, I did get made fun of, by my friends. But, looking older than my age made me popular. Having a full beard and beer belly was all the ID to by beer for all my friends to underage drink. Nonetheless, I enjoyed my time away from my dad. It was a nice break. But, in a way I missed him, too.

But, upon landing, I was looking at something I never expected to see. I saw my dad. But he was not the fit 200lb man of pure muscle. No, staring at me was as 300lb man of pure fat. His stomach is sagging. There are fat filled breast were his pecs once were. And, he begins to waddle his way towards me. His face looks aged ... more like a man in his late 40s. Yet, a smile on his fat filled face. I recognize that he is using my old clothes.

He tells me I look good, strong, and like I have been working out. But, I'm completely shocked. He ask me questions. And, I give mindless answers. For most of the ride home I stay silent. His tries to tell me that an injury caused him to have to stop working out. And, as soon as he stopped working out the weight just piled on. But, it doesn't make sense. And, after awhile I don't care if it makes sense. I'm finally the hot one. I start making some fat jokes. His face gets red, but he laughs. He tells me "I guessed I had those coming."

It was late when we got home and we both were incredibly tired. I took my stuff to my room and instantly lied on my bed. Ideas of hanging out with my friends and new fat dad filled my mind.

But, as the sun rose. I notice my body feels groggy and sore. My lower back is in so much pain. So, I tried to roll on my side. But, I struggle. My eyes shoot awake has I recognized the sensation. It like I am 280lbs again with a big belly in the way. I tear off the blankets and use all my energy to sit up. Ripped pieces of fabric, lay under my fat body. My belly hangs between my legs and my hairy breast sit on the shelf of my stomach. I look the fattest I ever have been. I look even fatter than my dad was yesterday. I start to notice that my body seems hairier and specks of grey are sprinkled in.

I waddle to the closest mirror and panic. I saw my face, but it looked older. I look like I was in my 40s. I went on the scale and it read 320lbs. This was in fact the biggest I have ever been. I squeezed into the biggest clothes, I had. But, now they are too tight. My sweat pants are skin tight. And my shirt doesn't fully cover my beach ball stomach.

I stumble through the hallway and down the stairs, in a hurry, calling for my dad. As, I enter the kitchen, I have to lean against a counter. My heart is beating fast and I am out of breath. A young man enters the kitchen from the back door. He looked no older than 20. He looks at me and smiles.

"Hey, Dad, you good. I just came back from my run. You should join me. But, by that tight sweat stained shirt ... It looks like coming down the stairs is exercise enough." He laughs as he rubbed his sweaty chiseled abs.

I immediately recognized him, although this is the youngest I have ever seen him. This new young jock infront of me is my dad. "Dad, what the fuck is going on..." I say between breathes, I can feel all this confusion and excitement affecting my heart.

My dad, in his new young body just laughs. "My memory charms never did work on you. Well, I guess your old enough to know, now. I mean you are my son after all. Our family are descendants of an ancient race. We have abilities that help us survive. But, I have been shunned and cursed. I have the ability to trade any aspect of a person body. I can steal everything if I want to ... to become them. But, I abused this power and my own kind cursed me to gain weight at an incredibly fast speed. I knew eventually I would have to leave this body and trade it for a completely knew fit body, like I have done a thousand time before. But, I grew tired of not having an identity to call my own. And, out of all my vessels this was the best."

The man talking to me was not the father I knew. There was evil in his eyes. My heavy body shook as he threw me from my seat onto the floor. My back in even more pain. He chokes me with one hand and caresses my face with the other.

He continues, "That's were you coming in. Being my spawn, you also gained a gift. The more fat you have, the faster your metabolism becomes. And, you body naturally forms muscle. You have the gift of vitality. So, since you were young I drained you of your muscle. I fed you my fat. But, since you've been away from me our connection was weak. But, now that your back I dumped months worth of fat into you. I may have gotten greedy by taking some of your youth. But, don't worry I'll keep you as young as you need to be to stay alive. Oh, and I believe your college days are over. Now to the world, you'll be my over weight father and I'll be the all star son. It been thousands of years since I've been able to enjoy a body, with out the fear of gaining weight. No more jumping in and out of lives. Now that you know the truth, I don't have to hold back. All the weight that I gain will instantly go to you. No more careful planning like when you were just a boy. By my calculation. With my endless fat supply and your ability to burn off fat ... your weight will balance out at the good old size of 400lbs. So, 80 more pounds to go untill your at your permanent weight. So enjoy this size will you can big guy."

My dad stops choking me and pats my stomach. "Your gonna be one big fat daddy. But, I'll take care of you pops. Now, you should rush to a store and get fatter clothes, before nothing in this house fits you anymore. But, by the looks of it, it's already too late. Guess you gotta get creative, and remember all the credit cards are under my name. I'm going to break you boy. I'm going drill into to your head the you will for the rest of eternity be a big fat giant blob of walking fat. Living under you "son"s" shadow. Now, while you figure out how to adjust to your 400lb life. I'm gonna finally have some fun. And don't think of trying something funny becuase weight gain isn't even the worst thing I can do to you."

By this point tears are rushing down my face. My dad puts on a shirt, grabs the keys and walks out the door. I struggle to stand, as I feel my body very slowly gain weight. The shirt I was wearing rips off my body. Through the mirror I can see new roles of fat forming. I waddle to the scale. It now reads 233.56lbs and counting. The sweats and underwear have big rips do to my fat ass. I hold my gut in my hands. I wipe the tears from my eyes. And, I think "what the fuck just happened and what am I gonna do."

#body #male #swap #transformation #tf #stories #mischief #story #gain #weight #theft #muscle #age #age modification

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hogarthwrites · 3 years

Text

house sitting for two chapter 17

chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 16 pairing: Sam Drake/Reader (m/f) genre: smut, slow romance, mutual pining warnings: graphic sex, alcohol words: 2,901 summary: You're unsure about dating someone else and it makes you guilty about still being in love. You make your mind up when you run into a certain someone one night.

Sam and Sully had gone to Las Vegas. “Just because,” Sam reasoned. He needed to forget how empty he felt whenever it was nighttime and he was lonely in bed.

Instead, he and Sully gambled, outsmarting each other in their own games. At the end of the night, Sam would go to the nearest bar to drink. That’s where he was reunited with Victoria, an old flame he had just before Panama.

Victoria – or Vix – as he called her, was a nice enough woman. She was as loud as he remembered her and he genuinely did have fun with her, and there was an understanding between them: it was just sex.

He'd take her to his RV every night, and every single time he fucked her, he thought of you. As he dug his fingers into the soft skin of her hips, he closed his eyes, imagining you, drowning out the sounds of her moans. He couldn't understand how he became so attached to you but no other person.

It was then the telephone started ringing. Sam sighed, considering his options. He wasn't close yet and he wasn't in a hurry so he got up and hobbled to the phone.

“Yeah?” Sam leaned against the wall, expecting it to be Sully calling from his five-star hotel room, but there was no response.

“Come on, Sam, don't keep me waiting,” Victoria whined. “I was so close.”

“Just a second,” he turned away from her. “Hello? Hello?”

The line cut out, leaving Sam confused. Must've been a wrong number.

He drove Sully back to California the next day, feeling a little sad about being back in Paso Robles. It didn't stop him from looking around as he drove, hoping to get a glance of you – that is, if you stayed in the area.

“I've gotta say that was the first Vegas trip I've been on where I haven't made any life altering decisions,” Sully mused. “Hell, that was the mildest experience I've had.”

“Jeez, Victor, sorry I made it lame,” Sam joked. Deep down they knew they were too old to get shit faced drunk and make horrible decisions just after a few nights in Las Vegas.

“Ah, maybe next time,” Sully picked up his bags as Sam parked in front of his mid-century style home. “What's next for Samuel Drake?”

“Uh,” Sam thought. “Gonna visit a special lady named Irene, then hopefully my business partner can find another job for us.”

“Oh, Irene,” Sully chuckled.

“Ah, so you know her,” Sam smiled.

“The ‘70’s were a wild time, Sam,” Sully winked, confirming yours and Sam’s suspicions.

“Well, good for you, Victor. She's still single, just so you know.”

“Right,” Sully laughed. “Hey, maybe you should go up to Los Angeles, just see the sights. Weather’s nice this time of the year.”

Huh , Sam thought to himself. He hasn't been in LA in years. It won't hurt to stop by.

“Sure, Victor. I'll send you a postcard.”

“There's an open house this weekend,” Stephen said over the phone. “I hope you understand.”

“Yeah, I'm totally cool with it.” You lay in the hammock of your backyard, smoking a cigarette and mindlessly scrolled through social media. Sam was always on your Instagram, giving you just a glimmer of hope.

“I'll call as much as I can. I love you.”

You paused, chewing on you lip. “I'll see you soon, Steve.”

You felt the tiniest pang of guilt as you felt a bit of relief to be away from Stephen for two weeks. As much as you tried, you couldn't love him. Sam was still in your mind and everytime you had sex with Stephen, you thought about Sam. It just didn't feel as good.

It didn't stop you from being racked with guilt. You didn't want to be with Stephen, but you didn't want to be lonely.

I'm a horrible person and I had the audacity to call Sam a selfish bastard, you let out an angry puff of smoke. Maybe we are a lot more alike than I thought.

You groaned as you slid off the hammock hanging on your back porch and padded your way into your kitchen to get a drink. The silence was overwhelming while you poured yourself a glass of orange juice.

You retired to your room and climbed into your cold, empty bed. You hated the silence. You missed Sam’s voice as he talked on and on about something that excited him.

You read and reread the letter he wrote you in the hospital. It was short but it was enough to make you miss him every time.

I'm sorry. No one's ever done anything like that for me and I feel horrible. Please get better. I'll make you pancakes like I promised long ago.

I love you,

Sam

The landline phone caught your attention. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear his voice just for a bit.

You hastily got up and walked to the phone, mind racing as you picked up the receiver. You assured yourself it was fine and that Sam never had a caller ID.

Here goes, you held your breath as you dialed his number, dreading the ringing tones.

It kept ringing and you were scared it'll go to voicemail, but after a while, Sam finally picked up.

“Yeah?” He was out of breath.

Just that one word made your heart leap. You opened your mouth to say something when you heard someone in the background.

“Come on, Sam, don't keep me waiting,” a woman said in a sultry voice. “I was so close.”

“Just a second,” Sam called out. “Hello? Hello?”

You hung up. That was a terrible idea.

Irene was overjoyed to see Sam, peppering his face in kisses.

“Oh, you've grown so tall!” She joked. “It's so nice to see you, Sam.”

“You know I can't stay away from my favourite weed lady,” he chuckled.

“Are you staying long?”

“Nah, just dropping by to say ‘hi’.”

“Well ‘hi’ to you too,” she smiled.

She gave him a pan of banana bread (and some weed) before he left, asking if he ever got to see you. He wished he did.

You lay on the floor of your living room, music blasting on the stereo as you had a pity party. You had to end things with Stephen as the guilt was becoming too much for you to bear.

You had put the ring back on, staring at it as you held your hand up. You needed a drink.

The fluorescent lights of the store were a little too bright for you and you trudged to the fridge, ignoring the guy manning the cashier.

“You look like shit again,” he remarked.

“‘Kay, thanks for the input, Troy,” you muttered. Asshole.

You grabbed a few bottles of beer, hugging them to your chest. Just another Friday night.

“Sorry, I need a pack of cigarettes… Or two,” you heard a familiar voice. You peeked behind a shelf of condoms.

It was Sam. What the hell is he doing in LA and in this particular store too?

Fuck. You began to panic, glancing down at yourself. The grey sweatpants and your stained DIY shirt you painted years ago wasn’t the most flattering outfit and it didn't help that your hair was a mess.

You wanted him to just go, but through your panicked state, you dropped one of the bottles in your arms, catching Sam’s attention.

“Y/N?” He looked at you curiously.

“Heyy, Sam,” you sheepishly stepped away from the mess on the floor.

“Clean up on aisle two,” Troy mumbled, grabbing the broom and a mop.

“Sorry, I'll pay for that,” you tiptoed past him.

“No, I'll pay for it,” Sam looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Your heart leaped when you met his gentle eyes. “That's a lot of bottles.”

“TGIF, right?” You awkwardly laughed. Idiot.

“Can't argue with that,” Sam smiled.

Troy totalled up yours and Sam’s purchases after a lot of whining. Sam helped you carry your bottles of beer.

“Where ya heading?” He asked.

“Home. It's not too far from here.”

“Come on, I'll give you a lift,” he nudged you.

“No, it's fine,” you shook your head.

“You don't wanna see my snazzy new tiny home?”

“Tiny home,” you chuckled. “Yeah, sure I'd love to see it.”

Sam had a nice little RV with his motorcycle secured on it. It wasn't too fancy inside; his books were neatly organised on a small shelf by the sofa/dining area, the plants you left him on a box by the window, and a large bed in the back with just a curtain for privacy.

“Wow,” you looked around. “What made you wanna get an RV?”

“Eh, just wanted to be able to move around easier,” he shrugged as he sat in the driver's seat. “It's not permanent, but it's been alright so far.”

You took the seat next to him, fastening your seatbelt.

“Where to?” Sam asked.

“Its just a few blocks away. Go west.”

It was supposed to be a short drive, but it felt longer to you. You didn't know what to say and neither did Sam, just Spandau Ballet softly playing on the radio filling in the silence.

“So,” Sam cleared his throat. “LA… Why? You planning on being in Hollywood?”

You shrugged. “I've always lived in smaller towns, I thought a bigger city might be an experience.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Do you like it?”

“It's been alright,” you shrugged again. “I haven't gotten around to exploring as much. Oh, it's just here.”

You pointed at the one-story Spanish revival house you've been staying in. Sam parked in front and you picked up your paper bag, heavy with the bottles.

“Let me help you with that,” Sam reached out, his hand touching your arm. It was enough to make you feel hot all over.

He locked eyes with you and for a moment, you thought he was leaning in to kiss you. You instinctively closed your eyes, waiting, but nothing happened.

When you opened your eyes, Sam was holding the paper bag and walking towards the door.

Oh, you were disappointed. What was I expecting?

He walked you to the door, his eyes on you the entire time.

“I missed you,” he said, making your heart leap again.

“Sam,” you looked up at him as you reached your door.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “I just… Couldn't get you out of my mind in months, I had to say it.”

“I missed you too,” you softly said.

This time, you felt his lips on yours, and you instinctively kissed him back. There were butterflies in your stomach, but the moment didn't last.

Sam stepped back, his face a little flushed. You felt your cheeks heat up as well.

He held out the paper bag to you. “Um, good night.”

“Good night…” You whispered as he turned to go back to his RV. “Sam, wait–”

He looked back, and you walked towards him.

“You can park in my driveway for the night… Or however long you're going to stay here.”

“I don't want to be a burden–”

“What? Sam, it's me. I…” You bit your lip. “I want you here. Maybe we can hang out.”

“Okay,” he smiled.

You took a deep breath as you closed your door behind you, your heart still racing. Sam kissed you and for the first time in months, you felt… Happy?

You placed the bottles in your fridge, no longer interested in drinking them, then changed into cleaner clothes for bed. You peeked out your window and saw the lights were still on in his RV.

You wanted to go to him, to kiss him more, to hold him again, but you thought of Stephen. True, he wasn't your boyfriend officially, but he trusted you. But still…

You found yourself in front of Sam’s door, and as you were about to knock, Sam opened the door.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

You stood, staring at each other as if you both couldn't believe it. Sam pulled you into his arms, and you kissed him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you in, closing the door behind him with his foot.

He sat you on the table, his hands sliding down to your ass.

“I missed you,” he whispered, his lips moving down to your neck.

You sighed as he left cool kisses on the hot skin of your neck. He pulled you close and you wrapped your legs around his waist again.

“Sam,” you whispered as he began lifting your shirt.

“What–what is it?” He rested his forehead on yours.

“Should we be doing this?” You asked, trailing your finger down his chest.

Sam kissed you. “I don't know, but it feels so right.”

Your shirt and your shorts were discarded somewhere around his RV and Sam had your legs over his shoulders as he kneeled in front of the table. He gave your clit a few licks, his eyes on yours the entire time.

“God, I missed this view,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“What, your new boyfriend doesn't eat you out?” He gave you a smug smirk.

“He’s not my boyf–”

Sam continued licking your clit, closing his eyes as he pushed his face further against your pussy. It was getting too much for you and you tugged at his hair.

“More, Sam, more,” you moaned.

You felt him smile against you as he began sucking on your clit softly, switching between sucking and licking. You bucked your hips against him but he held you down.

Sam gave a satisfied hum as you came, your thighs squeezing his head.

“How was that?” He stood up, leaning over you on the table. It was then you noticed that he was still fully dressed, but the tent in his grey sweatpants was hard to ignore.

“I think I've been missing out on Samuel Drake,” you chuckled.

He pulled you up and carried you to the bed bridal style.

“Wait, Sam,” you sat up as he climbed over you.

“What?”

“I've been having sex.”

He blinked at you. “So?”

“And you have too, I assume?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “So?”

You pushed him away. “So put a condom on.”

Sam gave you an amused smile. “You know you're the only person I've never had safe sex with.”

“Good to know,” you stuck your tongue out. “But put one on.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, standing up.

Sam held the condom up before climbing on top of you to kiss you. “Happy?”

You took off his shirt and he climbed out of his sweatpants, cock glistening with precum. It was enough to get you wet.

He ripped the condom packet open and slipped it on with ease. Sam gave you soft, sweet kisses as he began pushing inside you.

You both gasped at the sensation, Sam had his lip pinned between his teeth as he pushed deep inside you. He began to thrust slowly and gently cupping your cheek.

“Harder,” you whispered, desperate for more.

Sam groaned as he began pounding into you, his hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts. He kissed you hard as he collapsed on top of you, rolling over so you were on top of him.

“I wanna see you,” he said, moving your hips against his. “I wanna see you fucking me.”

You placed your hands against the headboard, bouncing on his cock. You moaned out his name loudly; something you've been wanting to do for months. It felt so good to finally have him under you and all you wanted was to make him feel good, to make up for all the lost time.

Sam pulled you in to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I missed you too,” you sighed between kisses.

“I forgot how good you feel,” he kissed your neck.

His hands slid down to your ass, spreading then as he rammed his hips up against yours. You grabbed at the pillow at his head, crying out loud. His finger dipped into your asshole and you moaned out.

The dual sensation was enough to make you cum, and Sam wasn’t far behind. He kissed you hard as he came, holding you close.

You were breathless as you rolled off him and he took the condom off, dunking it into the trash.

The bed dipped as he climbed back in, lying on his back next to you.

“Wanna see something cool?” Sam smiled.

He pressed a button and the rather large sunroof opened up, letting in more of the moonlight and the dim streetlights.

“Oh, that is cool,” you grinned. “Why didn't you show me before we fucked?”

“I don't think your neighbours would be too happy seeing us fornicate if they happened to look out the window.”

“You think they can really see us?”

Sam shrugged, putting an arm under his head and stared up at the sky with you.

“Do you wanna go out tomorrow?” You asked.

“Are you gonna give me the Grand Los Angeles tour?”

“Honestly, I haven't even toured it myself,” you sheepishly said. “It hasn't really felt like home.”

“Well,” Sam looked up in thought. “Maybe we can start with Santa Monica? I believe it isn't too far from here.”

“Okay,” you took his hand in yours.

#sam drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake #oh shit here we go again

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nakamoto-aesthetics · 3 years

Text

Noona | k.jw

synopsis: a typical story about a girl who has a crush on jungwoo but this time... you are his noona

pairing: crush!jungwoo x female!reader

genre: very sexual, with some fluff

warning: hard dom!jungwoo, sir!kink, some teasing, a speck of degradation

word count: 3.9k

a/n: yes the background of the banner says aquarius because the reader in this story is an aquarius😊 (btw: im a scorpio🙃♏️)

“jungwoo” you shout throughout the house. he was supposed to help you set up your iPhone because switching from android to iPhone was a little difficult for you.

the only reason why you switched was that you wanted to FaceTime the other members and do group calls. it was a good way to keep an eye on them in case they were doing things they had no business doing. yeah, you were the mom taking care of all her children. you were the second oldest of the bunch. even though taeil was older, you still treated him like your child.

you were born on February 5th, 1995; you teased johnny all the time about being older since you guys were only 4 days apart. he would play along with you by rolling his eyes or lightly shoving you as a joke. you and he always had a ball when you were with each other, both of you making the group laugh and smile. overall, the members loved you wholeheartedly, it was like you were one of them. you were all family.

footsteps were heard on the hardwood floor and soon the blond head of hair popped up. he was wearing a white hoodie with black baggy pants, the hood was up, the blond hair splayed on his forehead. he looked so damn sexy at that moment. you had to keep yourself from biting your lip.

oh yeah, what you forgot to mention was that you liked jungwoo. yeah, you still treated him like he was your kid but on the side, nobody knew you liked him, except for johnny. he saw the way you looked at jungwoo one time and immediately figured it out. he pulled you to the side after that and you confirmed it to be true. to this day johnny subtly teases you whenever you with jungwoo and you hated it.

“did you get it?” he walks up to you and looks at the phone in your hands. “wow… noona with an iPhone?” he says dramatically.

“shut the fuck up woo” you playfully smack his shoulder and he grins.

“it’s true!” he says loudly and laughs.

“whatever” you roll your eyes playfully, smiling. “can you be quiet and help me now?” you say in a lighthearted manner.

“yes, my lady” he bows and holds out his hand. you try not to break out into a smile but it doesn’t work. a wide grin fills your face as you place the phone in his hand. he then walks over to the table and sits down and you do the same.

the next minutes are spent with you hovering over his shoulder, watching what he does, you putting in emails and passwords as he turns away from the screen, and him asking you security questions.

“okay now enter a pin so nobody can get into your phone” he directs your phone toward you and turns the other way so he can’t see.

‘xxxx’ and then you put it in again. “there,” you say. he looks at the phone again.

“okay now you need face id” he says and taps on it.

“face id?”

“yes you can unlock your phone like that and it just makes everything so much easier. here. just follow the instructions” he hands you the phone and you do exactly that until the end.

“there were done. you know how to do the rest right? download apps, add contacts, change the wallpaper?” jungwoo looks at you.

“yes and if I don’t then I‘ll just ask you” you grin widely, teasing him.

“mm” he hums pressing his lips together as if he didn’t want to help you but in reality, he didn’t mind it one bit.

“you love me woo, there’s no need to hide it” you reach up to brush the pieces of hair that fell in front of his eyes.

“I never hid it,” he says almost too low for you to hear. his eyes were serious, there was no hint of playfulness in his face or tone.

“what are you talking about?” you tense up but continue to brush the other side of his hair out of his eyes.

“I mean that... I like you noona, I like you a lot and I've felt this way since I met you,” you take your hands away from his hair and place them in your lap trying to take in the information. you could’ve been with him this whole time and instead of speaking up as you should have; you waited because you didn’t know if he would feel the same way. right now you were internally punching yourself for being a scaredy-cat. jungwoo notices your actions and there’s a hurt look in his eyes for a second.

“it's okay if you don’t feel the same way, I thought I should just tell you since there was an opportunity. I don’t want it to be awkward just act like I never told you-“

you plant your lips on his, wrapping your arms around his neck. he freezes for a second before kissing you back and wrapping his arms around your waist. fireworks lighting up in both your stomachs; your hearts were pounding rhythmically as your lips were chasing each other’s wanting more of the other's lips.

‘his lips are so soft and pretty’ you thought.

‘her lips are so soft and pretty’ he thought.

neither of you wanted to pull apart but both of you were losing your breath. jungwoo took your bottom lip in between his lips and tugged it as he pulled away. you gasped softly at his action and opened your eyes looking at him.

“wow,” you whisper.

“what?”

“that was so much better than I imagined”

“how so?” he tried to hide his grin.

“because your lips…” you touch your lips with one hand and then touch his with the other hand. your fingers brush over his lips, still mesmerized by the kiss.

“what about them?” he kisses the pads of your fingers that were placed on his lips, making you let out a small breath.

“they’re so soft and plush” he chuckles at your words. you could feel the vibrations of his laugh on your fingertips. you bit lip and stroke his bottom lip.

“and so are yours so come here” he grips your waist and shifts you onto his lap. you let out an ‘oh’ and he places his hand on your cheek, pulling you in for another kiss, you sighed into it and moved your lips at the same pace. it felt so magical and dreamy. you never wanted this feeling to end. your heated bodies pressed together wanting to feel every inch of the other. his hands traveled down to your ass and he squeezed it, making you moan softly. he took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

“jungwoo” you moaned softly but you were muffled by his tongue in your mouth. he continued to feel around your mouth with his tongue, ignoring you.

“well well well,” a voice says making you two pull apart immediately and look at who the voice belonged to. it was johnny. “I see you finally told him y/n” he adds on.

“jungwoo confessed first” you look at him and smile.

“oh wow I’m surprised, I thought you would be the first to say something,” johnny asks and walks to the counter to get something.

“ehh I don’t know. I just can’t believe me and he could’ve been together the first month I met him. I’ve been waiting so long for this moment.” you say and pecks his lips. he smiles and pecks your cheek.

“well now you finally have him, gosh that was so annoying. I knew jungwoo had a crush on you but I couldn’t say anything, it was so frustrating. I’m just glad you guys know now. anyways, I’ll be back later,” johnny puts on his shoes and coat, opening the door. “oh, and jungwoo?”

“yeah?”

“don’t forget to wrap up, if you don’t have any there’s some in my top dresser drawer.” johnny winks at you two before walking out the door.

you laugh loudly and rest your head on jungwoo’s shoulder. he laughs aloud with you and shakes his head. “johnny hyung is something else” he utters.

“that he is” you agree with him. the atmosphere soon grows quiet, only filled with your shared breaths.

“woo?” you say softly, still with your head on his shoulder. you trace circles on the bare skin of his neck.

“mhm,” he rubs your lower back softly.

“what are we?”

“whatever you wanna be” he answers.

“what do you want us to be?”

“I want us to be… together,” he says and it makes you pause for a second. you wanted to be with jungwoo no doubt about that but was it too early? you’ve known jungwoo for 8 months, you practically knew him inside and out at this point he wasn’t that hard to read. most of all though, you loved him wholeheartedly and you loved him too much to take it slow. you were ready.

“me too,” you say against his neck.

“good.” he smiled like an idiot. “you're my baby now and nobody else's” he pulls your face up to his and plants kisses on your neck. you moan softly feeling heat pool to your core. his lips were so plump against your skin you wondered what they would feel like on your-

“you wanna go in the room?” he kisses along your jaw. you persistently nod your head. he grabs your phone off the table and picks you up, walking towards his room.

“do you have condoms?” you ask.

“nope ill have to get some but for now jaehyun has some” he opens the door and shuts it after he walks in.

“who is jaehyun fucking?” you breathily laugh.

“don’t know, don’t care, all im worried about is who I’m fucking” he lays you on his bed and strokes your cheek. your heart skips a beat right then and there. that felt so good to hear, you’d been waiting way too long for this day to come.

he puts your phone on the desk next to his bed and goes to jaehyuns drawer, looking for the condoms. you watched jungwoo attentively, watching the way his eyebrows knitted together and the way he bit his lip as he looked through the drawer. you guided your eyes down his body. you could see the prominent bulge forming under his thin black pants, making you bite your lip. jungwoo was incredibly sexy.

“found them,” he says and soon closes the drawer coming back with a gold square package. he lowers himself so he’s hovering over you. “are you sure you want to do this? we don’t have to if you don’t want to” he caresses your cheek.

“no, I want to do this jungwoo” you hold his cheek in your palm. he smiles softly and kisses your forehead.

“okay noona” he smiles softly and stands up, pulling off his shirt.

“damn...” you breathily whisper and run your hands down his torso, feeling on his abs.

“like what you see?” he chuckles, mocking you but you don’t mind it; much too distracted by his figure.

“like is such an understatement,” you say in a hushed tone.

“what do you mean?” he tilts his head and swiftly looks your figure up and down.

“I love what I see...” you sit up and grip his waist, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“don’t fucking looking at me like that,” he says calmly but there’s aggression under his statement.

“why?” you challenged, continuing to look at him.

“babygirl, you aren’t gonna be able to walk after I’m done with you” he caresses your cheek.

“are you sure your big enough to accomplish that?” you say, making jungwoo cock his eyebrow.

you already could tell jungwoo was big enough to ruin but you wanted to play around and tease him a bit.

“positive” he simply says.

“I don’t think so”

“you’ve never even seen it and a bulge does not count,” he says and you shrug trying to tease him further, he shakes his head at you and scoffs before looking at you again.

“my dick is big enough- you know what why don’t you take a look for yourself” he gestures to his pants. “I mean you're already in the right position” he was right. your face lined up perfectly with the waistband of his pants.

you nod and grip the waistband of his black pants, you gulp and pull them down leaving him in his underwear. his bulge was still prominent, that alone was big so you could only imagine what the full thing looked like. you grip the waistband of them and look up at him; his eyes are staring right back into yours. your breath hitches before you look back down to his waistband. you pull it down slowly and are first met with the base of his dick.

inches on inches.

you couldn’t believe how long and thick he was. it felt like you were pulling the thin fabric down for an eternity.

once he stepped out of the underwear you leaned back so you could see his length completely. your eyebrows raise and your jaw drops.

“am I still not big enough?” he chuckles at your expression. you gulp and shake your head no. you were speechless, you knew he was big but not this big. how could somebody be so long and thick. ‘will it fit?’ you widen your eyes.

“are you done?” he crosses his arms. you look up at him and nod. “good now I want you to strip” he grabs your hands, stands you up and he sits on the bed.

“you want me to give you a show?” you turn around to face him.

“mhm,” he leans back. his hands are behind him, holding him up.

if there’s one thing your good at, it’s giving someone a show. you turn around so your back is facing him. you cross your arms and grip the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head. you let it fall to the floor and reach behind your back undoing your bra. you hold it in place so it doesn't fall and look at him over your shoulder. he’s biting his lip in anticipation. you smirk and let the bra drop to the floor. you run your hands down your sides and over your curves to tease him, this works because you can see the way his dick twitches once you do that.

you decide to stop teasing him and pull down your pants, leaving you in the white lace panties. you can hear his muffled groans and you bite your lip. you loved the way he reacted to you. the smallest things turned him on, you couldn’t wait to tease him soon. you could already see it; you teasing him every chance you get and then you get punished for your actions. oh, how you couldn’t wait.

you slip your panties off slowly and throw it at him over your shoulder.

“good luck getting these back,” he says and puts them under his pillow.

“hey!” you protest, still not turned around.

“I’ll buy you more now turn around please”

“why? just so you can take them?” you say in an irritated voice. those were some of your favorite pairs.

“I’ll get you another pair of those, and I’ll buy two pairs of every underwear, how’s that?” he tries to compromise.

“okay...” you try to hide your smile but it doesn’t work.

“okay now kindly turn the fuck around so I could see that sexy-ass body,” he says impatiently, making you chuckle. you finally turn around and drop your arms to your sides so he can see everything.

his jaw hangs open and he looks your body up and down multiple times, trying to take it all in. his mind was so fuzzy at this moment in time. he’s been waiting to see your body. he’s dreamt of it so many times, often waking up to a little surprise sticking up from under his pants. your body was so much better in real life, it was amazing in the dream but it was so so much better in real life. words couldn’t describe it nor the way jungwoo was feeling at the moment.

“you like what you see?” you mock him. he nods his head quickly, biting his lip.

you chuckle and walk over to him. both of you staring at the other's naked body. his hand goes to your bare waist, moving down to your hips and then ass but he doesn’t squeeze it he just... holds it.

“woo are you-”

“you're so beautiful noona,” he says like he was put under a spell. you chuckle and grab his hands, holding them so then you could sit on his lap. your throbbing pussy brushes his hard dick for a second, making his and your breath hitch. you lay your head on his shoulder and peck his neck.

“I think you beautiful too jungwoo” you already knew he was smiling before you looked up. the smile filled up his face, making his eyes shine brightly. you smile in return and leave soft kisses on his shoulder.

“alright, alright stop before I end up cuddling you instead. I still have to ruin you and make you not walk” his hands go down to your ass and grip it harshly, you breathily gasp, and before you know it you on your back and he's hovering over you.

“you're my little slut tonight noona,” he says in your ear and kisses under your jaw. you moan his name in return, he immediately stops his actions and tilts your chin down so you can see him.

“uh uh what’s my name baby girl” his eyes are dark and his tone is low. he wasn’t playing around this time.

“daddy?” you ask uncertainly.

“wrong” he pulls one of your legs apart from the other so your spread out. he raises his hand and strikes your inner thigh. the loud sound filling the room.

“what the fuck?” you hiss and reach to rub it but before you can he grips your wrist and pins it above your head.

“every time you answer wrong, I hit that same spot. your safeword is y/n and my safeword is jungwoo because it would be weird if one of us just starts shouting our own name. it would catch the attention of the other” he says and you nod.

“is it.. baby boy?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“definitely not” he slaps the spot again and you clench your jaw out of pain.

“what about sir?” you ask and he raises his hand, making you squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation.

“correct” he rubs the red area. you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. he kisses your lips, increasingly getting rougher. you moan against his lips, the sound of heavy breaths now filling the room before he makes his way down your body.

“sir huh, who would’ve thought? honestly, I thought of you more like a daddy kind of guy” you look down at him, he looks up at you with the darkest, most passionate eyes, his lips were red and slightly swollen from the kisses while his hair was slightly messy. it was a sight to see.

“shut the hell up” his hot breath hit the skin of your lower stomach. you bit your lip and nodded, wanting him to continue desperately.

he makes his way down until he’s hovering over your glistening pussy. he spreads you open with two fingers and you throw your head back.

“sir” you cry out, after all, that waiting and anticipation all you wanted was to be touched, licked, and ruined.

“you little slut, so wet for me” he glides his finger down you, making your body convulse. he barely did anything and you were already a mess. you attempted to move your hips closer to his fingers but he was one step ahead of you; his hand gripped your hip tightly.

“if you want to end up getting touched then you better stay still” he warned you.

needless to say, it was a long night.

the morning after, just like jungwoo said you could barely walk.

when you woke up you could already feel the pain down there when you moved your legs slightly. jungwoo did a number on you last night. you wouldn’t be surprised if you find out he had accidentally ripped you open.

nonetheless, you had to use the bathroom but jungwoo was still asleep. you tried to wait it out but scrolling through instagram and tiktok but it came to a point where you just couldn’t hold it anymore. you slowly got out of bed trying not to wake the boy and you successfully did just that.

when your two feet hit the ground, your legs almost gave out on you. you had to hold onto the bed for support. you caught a glimpse of your body and realized you were naked. you looked around for a shirt and saw jungwoos, you stable yourself and walk over, grabbing it and slipping it over your head. it looked like a dress on you, jungwoo was so tall. you then limped to the door and opened it ever-so-slightly, slipping out in-between the small crack.

you limped your way to the bathroom and closed the door shut. you were so proud of yourself because that was not an easy task. he messed you up.

once you used the toilet and washed your hands, after you struggled to sit down on the toilet for a minute or two, you walked out. you headed to the kitchen, hungry from the loss of energy last night. you grabbed leftovers out of the fridge, heating it up on a plate, and then eating it. once you were finished, you put your dish in the sink and were on your way back to jungwoos room but not before seeing johnny.

“woah what happened to you?” he looks at you before he comes to a realization. he smirks. “you and jungwoo must’ve had a ball last night huh?”

“shut the fuck up johnny” you roll your eyes.

“what’s with the attitude?” he drops his smirk.

“nothing- I’m sorry okay everything just hurts right now. he fucked me up huh?” you breathily chuckle.

“yeah he did... so how was it?”

“it was... really fun to be honest. he knows how to work his hips. god, that boy has a lot of stamina” you bit your lip thinking about what happened last night leading up to this point.

johnny cringes at the thought. “nevermind stop I don’t want to know anything else” he waves his hands. you chuckle and hit his shoulder.

“you’ll be fine but if you’ll excuse me. I do have to return to him.” johnny nodded and walked past you. you limped back to jungwoos room, slipping through the crack. you shut the softly and quietly limp your way to the bed, situating yourself back into the spot you were once in. you let out a breath of relief once you realize jungwoo was still asleep. you pick up your phone once more and scroll through twitter.

“told you, you wouldn’t be able to walk after I was done with you,” a deep voice says.

“damn it!” you shout and all you hear is airy laughs from beside you.

#nakamoto yuta #nct doyoung #nct fluff #nct haechan #nct imagines #nct jaehyun #nct johnny #nct jungwoo #nct mark #nct scenarios #nct 127 #jungwoo x reader #kim jungwoo #jungwoo #nct x reader

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shhh-no-ones-home · 3 years

Text

the boy next door bucky barnes x reader

+++++++++

i know he has like an actual new york apartment in the show but i thought this idea was cute and kinda ran with it. in this they live in the same building rather than like his town house in the show.

also this might be the only one shot out for a little bit but ill be back soon i hope!

Song: Superman by loaded (duff mckagan)

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++

Another day another dollar, right? One more day of work before a long holiday weekend away from the office and away from the stresses of life. It was almost worth the salary in more ways than one. Yes I was comfortable now that I'd been promoted but it also allowed me to move into a new apartment over the last two months. Apartment 25, right next door to a very handsome neighbor who id only ever had the pleasure of seeing once.

It was no more than a passing in the hall when I was still moving in. He had nodded his head followed by a soft hello as I was coming up the stairs. My door was propped open and half my furniture was sitting around the kitchen inside the door. I had noticed him glance in, a small smile coming to his face as he dug his gloved hand into his jeans for his house key. The only reason I knew he existed outside of that was the fact that he left his TV on at night. But I knew how that was. Some type of noise to make a lonely apartment seem less empty.

I wanted so badly to go introduce myself, to say hello or invite him over for dinner but it never felt right. I was the new neighbor after all and no one else had made an attempt at introducing themselves either. Besides, I wasn't even completely moved in yet. Two months and I still had boxes strewn about, some filled with books, some filled with kitchen utensils I hadn't needed quite yet. In all actuality it was a mess still but I was working on it. Something I would be fixing during this long holiday weekend.

This is what was on my mind as I buzzed into the main door. Then his smile flashing behind my eyes as I walked up the flight of stairs to stand in front of my apartment. Then the thought faded for a moment. It was one sigh after another as I dug into my bag for my key, a grumble under my breath as they shifted under my wallet. It was already a long day, and now this?

"For fucks sake."

I complained, finally grabbing them in my hand but stabbing myself in the finger rather than retrieving them. I pulled my hand out quickly, hissing at the feeling as I shook my hand out.

"Damnit!"

I furrowed my brow before putting my mouth to my finger. Then I heard his door click. I breathed deeply before shaking my head and reaching back in my bag for my keys. When he stepped out of his door I offered a disingenuous smile.

"Hey 25."

He said and I stood upright, confusion across my features as I stared at the number plate on my door.

"Hey, 23...?"

I said back, looking over my shoulder as he made his way quickly down the stairs. I watched as he opened the main door at the bottom, looking at him like a deer in headlights as he smiled and nodded before disappearing down the street. I just stood there for a moment, perplexed, arm still in my bag but no longer focused on the task at hand. What a strange interaction. Then the door across the hall made a noise, shaking me from my thoughts. I got to work getting my keys out properly this time, without hurting myself, and unlocking my door before they made it outside. Time to get to work.

°°°°°°°°°

When I woke up this morning I knew I should've immediately gone back to bed. Who knew Saturdays could actually be shit. It started with me ripping the collar of one of my favorite shirts while trying to get dressed. Then it was me spraying myself in the face with water trying to do the dishes. And amongst every other little thing like dropping books and trinkets and tripping over boxes on the floor, the air conditioner went out. I had promptly called the landlord but he said he couldn't get anyone to replace it until Tuesday given the holiday weekend. Just my luck.

I had almost thought about giving up but I wasn't that kind of person. Instead I dug out a box fan, propped the front door open and kept it on high for the majority of the afternoon. Yeah I was sweaty trying to unpack and fix my living room but it was worth it. I was gonna make this day better if it killed me. Now I was stood on a bar stool, couch pushed into the middle of the room, trying to hang a few pictures. It was a struggle getting the one on the far part of the wall but I was making it work. One grunt and complain at a time.

"Need a hand with that 25?"

I heard from the door, scaring me and making the stool wobble. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I steadied myself against the wall. I closed my eyes and sighed out in relief.

"No thanks 23 I got this."

I called back, recognizing his voice before reaching back over and trying to hang it again. I could hear soft footsteps behind me for a moment but it didn't really matter, the door was open, if he wanted to come in he was more than welcome. Maybe he could give me a hand. And maybe I was overestimating myself. The next second I was losing my footing and on my way to the floor. I screamed as the stool came out from under me, the picture smashing to the floor. I expected to hit the floor after it but instead I had landed in someone's arms, looking up to a smirking neighbor, wide eyes and scared

"Sure you don't need some help there 25?"

He asked again, a little cocky. I just stared at him. My heart was knocking at my rib cage trying to escape and I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that I could've just hurt myself severely or even died. But I didn't. Because 25 saved me.

"I guess not anymore."

I blurted out in a panic, realizing that my interior design dreams had just been crunched into pieces against the hardwood. He let out a soft laugh before walking out from behind the couch and placing me flat on my feet.

"You okay?"

He asked and I nodded, frowning at my less than handy work on the ground. The stool was laid on top of the frame, glass everywhere, and the picture itself torn in two.

"Body yes, ambitions no."

I sent him a defeated look and we both laughed. I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Thanks for saving me 23. Without you I definitely would have had to take a trip to the ER."

I said through a nervous laugh. He looked taken aback for a second before placing his hand gently at my back.

"You look like you've had one hell of a day."

He noted and I looked down at myself before rolling my eyes.

"So it's obvious?"

I asked and he smiled, nodding slowly.

"Just a little bit."

My gaze followed his hand as he tucked some of the hair that had fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear.

"Well I guess for an official first impression I chose to big or go home."

I joked

"You always this charismatic?"

He quipped back and I sent him a look.

"You mean in terms of needing assistance?"

He shook his head in amusement.

"If that's how you wanna take it, sure."

I rolled my eyes playfully.

"No actually. Normally I am very poised and carefully thought out. Today is just not my day."

He looked at me for a moment like he was trying to figure me out or come up with something to say.

"Well I think I'd like to meet poised and carefully thought out."

He said and I sighed out a laugh.

"Is that an offer for a date 23?"

He smiled widely at me.

"James."

"Bucky!"

"Yes!"

He said quickly, getting progressively louder. My eyes went wide as he closed his, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Jesus I'm not usually this awkward."

I smiled at him, placing my hand at his shoulder, him looking at me in a lost puppy kind of way. Then I noticed the chain tucked under his shirt, looking down the the two outlines pressed against his chest. I drew my brows as I tugged it out, the warm metal laying in my hand as I ran my thumb over the dog tags. He just watched me intently.

"Sargent James Buchanan Barnes."

I nodded, looking up to him innocently. He had a small smile tugging at the corner of his lip but you'd miss it if you weren't looking for it.

"Well 23, I'd love to go on a date with you."

In a second his smile got bigger, tucking his tags back in his shirt after I let go of them.

"Guess we both made pretty good first impressions."

He said and I nodded, rubbing my hands together as we started walking towards the door.

"Oh, 25, I didn't catch your name."

He mentioned, stepping over the box fan and back into the hall. I smirked at him.

"You buy me a drink, 23, and it's yours."

He let out a short laugh, nodding as he turned his body towards his own apartment.

"Deal."

#wattpad #x reader #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel #imagines #one shots #captain america #white wolf #james buchanan barnes #328

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angstyaches · 3 years

Text

I’ve Been Away Pt. 1

CW: angst, crying, nausea/indigestion caused by stress, anxiety. (But there’s a bit of banter at the end to round it out.)

Felix waited across the street in a rented car, waiting for Elliott to leave the house.

He and Ryan usually went out to sharpen their combat skills (at least, that was how they phrased “trying to beat the crap out of one another”) on Sunday evenings, and knowing Elliott, he wouldn’t want Ryan to see how Felix’s absence was affecting him. If it was affecting him, Felix corrected himself, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Maybe Elliott was doing fine without him. Maybe he was better off. It didn’t really bear thinking about.

Felix gasped as the front door opened and Ryan walked out, heading straight for her car. Elliott followed, his steps a lot slower and more deliberate than usual. Felix folded his arms across the top of the steering wheel and ducked his head almost the whole way behind them, a sinking feeling in his belly. He’d bought a hoodie to cover up his mint hair, abandoned his own car at the hotel in favour of a less-recognisable one, and had even doused himself in cheap cologne on the off-chance that Elliott or Ryan would smell him from across the street.

He needn’t have worried, it seemed, since neither of them even glanced in his direction. Felix realised with a pang of despair that he was disappointed. If Elliott had been AWOL, Felix was sure he’d be glancing up and down every street and around every corner in the hopes of sighting him. He should have been happy that his plans to remain incognito had been successful, yet he wanted to cry.

Come on, Felix, don’t be a baby, he told himself. He’d come here for a reason, and things were going better than expected. He got out of the car as soon as Ryan’s disappeared from the street, taking Elliott away with it. Felix tried to ignore the pain in his heart.

He crossed the street, he realised afterwards, without even looking both ways first. His hands trembled as he took out his keys and let himself inside, the smell of lavender and floor cleaner scooping him up. This had been the first house that had ever really felt like home, but now it seemed to greet him with a glare, a side-eye. He shuddered and hurried upstairs, anxious to get in and out as quickly as possible.

Elliott had always thought Felix was crazy for having a safe in their bedroom wardrobe, complete with a code. Elliott thought a lot of things Felix did were crazy. Maybe I am crazy, Felix thought as he twisted the dial to input the code – the date of the day he’d run away from home; the first time. After all, he’d put all of his old IDs in here for a reason, and now here he was, dragging it all out.

A burning pain made itself known in the pit of his stomach as he dragged out the papers, his old passport, a small pile of newspaper clippings he had always meant to glue into a scrapbook but hadn’t. A watch slid out, landing on the wooden floor. Felix hadn’t seen in almost a decade. He swallowed a bitter mouthful of spit and shoved the watch back inside, not really concerned about scratch it in the process.

He eyed Elliott’s bedside locker as he stood up after locking the safe, clutching his documents to his chest. If he’d been in a rom-com, he would have left a little note to indicate to Elliott that he’d been there, and that he still loved him and just needed a little time. But this was real life, and Elliott would find precisely nothing romantic or comedic in a gesture like that.

So instead, Felix bolted back to the car.

He was shaking as he sank back into the driver’s seat of the car, resting his pile of papers in his lap. His old passport lay on top, but he couldn’t bring himself to open it. He wasn’t even sure if he would need any of this stuff, but if he was going to take this leap, he was going to be prepared for whatever they might want from him. He might have to fight to identify himself.

He might have to fight to make her remember.

He quickly dropped everything into the empty glove compartment, wrinkling his nose at the fresh wave of not-new-but-perfumed-to-seem-new car smell that came wafting out. A belch gurgled up his chest and he covered his mouth as it escaped. The last thing he’d eaten had been a sad sandwich from a petrol station, plus a tiny bit of the blood he’d been rationing himself, and the stress had made sure it hadn’t gone anywhere yet.

Maybe he should have picked up more blood when he’d been inside, but there was no way he could think about that without feeling like it would be stealing.

He felt sick. He was tired.

And the last thing he wanted was to be alone with his thoughts, especially with such a long drive ahead of him.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he whispered to himself, watching the door of the townhouse swing open across the street. He hadn’t thought about Shayne, who must have only gotten back from Charlie’s a few days ago. Felix whipped up his hood and sank a bit in his seat, thinking he wouldn’t be seen, but from peering out over the steering wheel, he got the feeling that Shayne already knew it was him.

“What the fuck, man?”

“Crap,” Felix hissed, scrambling to get the key in the ignition. He jumped in his seat as Shayne slammed both hands down on the front of the car.

“Stop, it’s a rental!” Felix squealed.

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Look, I know it looks bad –”

“Get out of the car!”

Felix inhaled deeply, staring down the hollow brown eyes that pinned him from outside the windshield. He slowly started to shake his head, even though his stomach felt like it was about to crawl up his throat.

“N-no.”

“Do you know what this is doing to Elliott?”

“No!” Felix yelled, covering his face with both hands. “No, I don’t, Shayne, but you don’t need to tell me, because I already hate myself enough! Whatever it is, it couldn’t be worse than the way it is in my head…”

He felt like he was being choked. His forehead made the horn honk gently as he let it fall against the wheel. His chest hurt, it hurt so fucking bad, it felt like whatever was left in there was rotten and crumbling and turned black with self-hatred. He’d known things were bad - he’d cried himself to sleep every night since he’d left - but right then, it felt like death itself was pressing in around him.

He jumped, the pain sharpening in his chest, at the sound of the passenger side door opening. The car bounced on its axis with the force of Shayne climbing in.

“I’m sorry!” Felix sobbed, not sure what he was actually expecting Shayne to do to him. “I didn’t – I didn’t mean for it to be like this, I just… there’s some stuff I have to do. It’s really, really important…”

“Is it?” Shayne asked sharply.

“Yes.”

Felix jumped again as Shayne pulled the door shut, hard.

“Alright.” Shayne shrugged, reaching for the seatbelt for the passenger seat. “You’re going to have to buy me more clothes if this takes longer than a day.”

Felix’s jaw dropped, the tears sliding down his face even as the sobs relented. “Wh-what?”

“Oh, and absolutely no singing.”

“That just seems… unreasonable,” Felix mumbled.

“And!” Shayne reached across to lightly slap Felix’s arm with the back of his hand. “We’re calling Elliott later. Both of us. Alright?”

Felix licked his lips, feeling both intimidated and energised by the glare he was receiving from his cousin. “Okay… sure.”

Shayne sank a bit lower in his seat and propped his head against the door. Felix took a deep breath, focusing on the full feeling in his lungs for a moment before letting himself deflate again. His hands felt a bit steadier when he started the ignition this time. The knot in his chest was still there but it felt a little lighter, and the sting of the indigestion didn’t creep quite so high.

“And the ‘no singing’ rule,” he said, “is that absolutely locked-in, or is there a bit of wiggle room on that…?”

“You break that rule, and I’m grabbing the steering wheel and wiggling us into oncoming traffic.”

#Swallow the World #Thicker than Blood #Stw Felix #Stw Shayne #Felix's story #angst fic #drama fic #angst #indigestion #plot

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redtapesworstnightmare · 3 years

Text

(looked like) a nightmare

“Sign’s right there, kid,” Bobby calls back, pointing to a spot just beyond where Albert and Eddie stand. “Legion First, Los Angeles branch.” Eddie feels his heart stop as he zeroes in on the sign, only half-standing in the wake of the collapse.

“This is Buck’s bank,” he manages, and turns in time to see Albert’s eyes go wide. “He- today’s his day for errands, he had a paycheck to deposit. What if-”

In which a casualty of an explosion is mistakenly identified as Buck. Eddie doesn't know how to cope.

read on ao3 | word count: 1,259

tags: Established Relationship, Married Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Assumed Character Death, Presumed Dead, But not actually!, character death of unnamed side character, unfortunate case of mistaken identity, vague descriptions of building post-explosion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, happy ending though i swear to god

“God, as if today wasn’t already bad enough,” Eddie grumbles as the team jumps out of the rig at the scene of their latest call. He hears Hen snickering with Chimney as they walk up from the ambulance and levels them with a look.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s been a decent shift so far, so we know the only reason you’re upset is because you miss Buck. It’s… it’s really funny, I’m sorry,” Chim offers, sounding decidedly not at all sorry. Eddie rolls his eyes and starts gathering the gear he needs for his assignment.

The scene is a partial building collapse triggered by a gas explosion, and Eddie groans again internally. He knows they’ll probably have more survivors this way, but it also means the building could finish coming down on top of them during their rescue.

“This looks like a bad one,” Albert remarks from beside Eddie, and Christ, when had he walked up? Eddie makes a noise of agreement, and he doesn’t miss the knowing look Albert sends his way at the lack of a real response.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says. “What building was this again? I don’t come to this part of town much.”

“Uh, some bank I think? Hey Cap!” Albert calls, “What bank was this?”

“This is Buck’s bank,” he manages, and turns in time to see Albert’s eyes go wide. “He- today’s his day for errands, he had a paycheck to deposit. What if-”

“No, come on, we can’t- We can’t assume the worst, okay?” Albert says shakily. “Listen, the sooner we get in there and clear the building, the sooner we can rule out Buck even being here at all.” Eddie feels his chest constrict with Albert’s words, but he wordlessly puts his oxygen mask on and powers into the half-standing building alongside Albert.

It is just over an hour later when he emerges from the wreckage for good, thoroughly covered in sweat and soot. Though he knows he and Albert were only one of several sets of firefighters combing the rubble and helping survivors, they didn’t find Buck and his heart is soaring in relief.

Until he sees Bobby working his way over to him and Albert, a look of what can only be described as complete despair on his face.

“Albert, go see if Hen and Chim need some help with triage,” is the first thing out of Bobby’s mouth, and though Albert has only the barest of medical training, he knows something is up and scurries off. “Eddie…”

“No, Cap, don’t…” Eddie chokes out, grip tightening on his helmet.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” Bobby says. “We think we found Buck’s body in that bank.” Eddie’s helmet falls from his hands and he rips his gaze from Bobby’s face to look around for where Buck’s body could be. Bobby beckons for Eddie to follow him and leads him to a sheet-covered body, wallet and cell phone stacked neatly next to it. He doesn’t say anything, and Eddie wouldn’t be able to hear him anyway over his blood rushing through his ears. He notices distantly that Buck has been placed a little ways from the rest of the casualties of the collapse, and he knows later he’ll be grateful for the attempt at privacy. He collapses to his knees next to the body and takes Buck’s wallet and cell phone from where they lay. He opens the wallet to see Buck staring at him from his ID picture, and then slowly reaches to pull the sheet down. The sight that greets him is worse than he’d imagined.

“Bobby, I can’t… I can’t even tell it’s him,” Eddie sobs. He notices that Bobby is crying too as he kneels next to Eddie, pulling him into a hug. “What do I tell Chris? How do I…” Eddie stares at his wedding band, black silicone for work. “‘Til death do us part was supposed to be in a retirement home.” he whispers. Bobby feels his heart break, wishing Eddie didn’t have to come to know the soul-deep ache that he’d lived with for so long.

If you asked him later, Eddie would have no idea how he got back to the station. He vaguely remembers promises of Buck’s body being transported and being able to visit him later. Sees flashes of the devastation on the faces of his whole team. He barely registers the drive back to the station after Bobby radios in to take the house offline for the remaining six hours of their shift. He’s only aware of the feel of Buck’s phone and wallet in his hands, Buck’s license photo still staring up at him. The paycheck he’d been there to cash is still in the wallet, too, edge charred where it stuck out haphazardly. The team sheds their turnout gear and trudges up the stairs, nobody claiming chores or chattering, not even making their way to the shower. They move in total silence. Eddie notes absently that Buck never allows for silence, constantly filling it with facts and stories and sometimes even bad jokes if it comes to that.

Eddie is the first one up the stairs, and his gaze is on the floor as he heads for the coffee machine.

“God, you guys look beat. Were you at the bank collapse over at Legion First? Looked like a nightmare when I drove past.” Eddie’s head snaps up, eyes wide. “Babe, are you- hey, my wallet! What are the odds?”

“Buck?” Eddie all but whispers, afraid if he speaks too loud the moment will shatter and he’ll be left with reality once more. “You- you guys see him too, right?” he asks, turning around. If the looks on his teammates’ faces are any indication, Buck is, in fact, standing in front of all of them. Completely unharmed.

“Why would they… not see me?” Buck asks. ��Oh, my God, I came to tell you my wallet and phone got stolen while Chris and I were at the park. I didn’t want you to worry if you couldn’t get ahold of me. Don’t tell me the guy went to cash my paycheck and got blown up.” Eddie doesn’t trust his voice, so he rushes forward to pull Buck into a hug instead. Buck cradles the back of Eddie’s head with one hand, wrapping his other arm around Eddie’s middle.

“Buck, I-” Eddie chokes out, cutting himself off with a sob.

“Baby, I’m so sorry, nobody should ever have to go through something like that,” Buck murmurs soothingly. “I’m still here. I love you so much.” At that moment, the team decides the two have had enough of a moment for the time being and they pile on top of the two in a group hug that Eddie was pretty sure he’d still be feeling for the next few days. Several versions of “You had better not do that again!” are tossed around with shaky voices and varying levels of profanity, and Eddie lets out a wet chuckle.

“Buck, I’m never working a shift without you again,” Eddie tells him when the group hug/dog pile releases to form a loose crowd around Buck.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’m ever letting you work a shift without me again after this,” Buck says. “So that’s fine by me.”

#my writing #911 fic #evan buckley x eddie diaz #angst #angst with a happy ending #emotional hurt/comfort #presumed dead #established buddie

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iceeckos12 · 4 years

Text

tma fic recs

I’ve seen a couple of fic rec posts floating around. since ive been reading so many excellent fic recently, i thought that id make one as well! please note this list is going to be 99% jonmartin. also buckle up, because this is going to get long.

Completed

the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)

"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees

Notes: This is probably my go-to fic if i want an apocalypse never happened scenario. The jonmartin is wonderful, as is the h/c.

Diary and Prenon-nous la main by luftballoons99

Diary summary:

Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.

or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.

Prenon-nous la main summary:

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

Notes: Do you love impeccable safehouse jonmartin characterization? do you love characters grappling with the mortifying ordeal of being known? do you love softness so tender that it makes you want to weep? please read these fic. im begging you.

i’ll tell you about all the times i’ve smiled because of you by cryptidkidprem

Summary:

Martin thinks about their shoes, sitting beside each other on the floor by the bed. Thinks of the way Jon wears Martin’s cardigans more often than he wears his own, the way Martin’s started keeping elastics around his wrist because Jon always forgets his own when they go out.

He thinks about all the gentle touches and fussing over each other they’ve done, and how much is still to come over the next… however long Jon will have him.

They have a long way to go, an entire life to build out of the wreckage Jonah Magnus and Peter Lukas left them, but laying together in a comfortable, sleepy quiet, Martin thinks they’ve got a good start going.

Or, Jon quits the Institute, saves the world, and it turns out to be exactly what he needs in order to heal and start moving forward towards building a life with Martin.

Notes: how many times have i reread this fic? more than i can count. jon quits the institute and it’s just full of soft jonmartins. they get married! god i love them.

go softly by doomcountry

Summary:

And there is nothing else besides this.

Notes: every time i remember this fic i reread it. please heed the tags because martin is blinding jon, but he’s like. blinding jon in the most heartbreaking way possible. idk how the author made this so tender but i know i was certainly crying so!

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by Wolftraps (AlwaysBoth)

Summary:

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

Notes: Do you like time travel fixits? i sure like time travel fixits. reverb is an excellent one. heavy on the h/c, I wanted to hug jon so so badly.

Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey

Summary:

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

Notes: Yet another time travel fixit! also excellent. the teasing was HYSTERICAL. also Im just going to say this now - CirrusGrey in general writes incredible tma fic. You can’t really go wrong.

unassigned supplementals by bibliocratic

Notes: I won’t put in a summary just because it’s a long series of oneshots, but bibliocratic’s writing is amazing. Again, you can’t really go wrong with one of their fic!

let the soft animal of your body by autoclaves

Summary:

Standing in the warm kitchen, slats of sepia light filtering through onto the counter in front of him, Martin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He half expects them to go through the countertop entirely, glossy and solid as it is. He isn’t used to any of it, yet. The safehouse. Jon. Beams of sun pouring into his hands. After being deprived of everything of significance for so long, the longing that crashes over him is almost painful in its tangibility. He wants to laugh, to sob, to scream and hear it echoed back against the neat, square walls of the safehouse.

In the end, he doesn’t do any of these things. He makes eggs instead. He can do that, can’t he? Use his hands for something simple and plain and good.

(Or: In the safehouse after it all, Martin starts cooking.)

Notes: this fic really speaks to me a) because i project on martin like crazy and b) because food is also my love language. this fic is incredibly soft and it’s all about cooking!

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” by shinyopals

Summary:

I hope you find your new role as Head of the Institute as rewarding as captaining the Tundra, wrote Elias Bouchard, to Peter Lukas. There are so many people working there: all with their own interesting lives, and all desiring your attention and support. I'm sure you will relish the challenge it will bring and enjoy every moment spent with the fine men and women of the Institute. In time I'm confident they'll become like a family to you.

The Magnus Institute has a new boss. The Magnus Institute also has a new tech support technician. These two facts are unrelated, except they both happen at the same time.

Meanwhile Jon's woken up from being dead for six months and for once he's trying his best. He just wishes Martin would stop avoiding him and answer his messages...

Notes: if you’re looking for a good laugh, this fic is SO SO SO FUNNY. i was dying. basically the magnus institute being an absolute bureaucratic nightmare.

hello my old heart by firebirdsuite

Summary:

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Notes: it’s all about the yearning. and trust me, the yearning in this fic? im just. i sure do love jonmartin, and this is such soft, loving jonmartin it just makes you want to cry

two ships passing by pyrites

Summary:

Gerard Keay is 10 years old the very first time he tries to run away from home, right around the time that Jonathan Sims has just come into possession of his first Leitner.

Or: One dropped stone can change the way the whole ocean moves.

Notes: again, JONGERRY. MY GOODNESS. this fic is beautiful, the writing is absolutely breathtaking and it owns my heart. im so in love with it. the author said you’re going to have emotions about jon and gerry and jongerry and i said OKAY

Terminal Sight by viv_is_spooky

Summary:

Spider silk weaves through the visions of two Seers. Monstrosity is dawning on them both.

Notes: I’d never read a gerryoliver fic before this, but the execution is EXCELLENT and now im sold on the ship forever. This fic has wonderful prose and great characterization and i love it a whole lot.

Incomplete

assistant archivist au by PitViperOfDoom

Notes: I won’t put a summary since I’m reccing an entire series, but. it is absolutely no secret that i adore jongerry. pit’s assistant archivist au slapped me over the head with some gorgeous jongerry oneshots and then gave me the gift of the main fic (which is still in progress) about head archivist martin. i love this au so so much

dustsceawung by callmearcturus

Summary:

Martin had always been favored by the summer courts, and moving up north to the little village of Lacuna is a difficult adjustment. It's rainy and lonely and everyone seems to have a strange, distant relationship with the local faerie court.

However: there is a strange man in a cloak who walks past Martin's remote little cottage every few days.

However: there is a moth that keeps getting stuck in Martin's house during the rain.

These events are not as disconnected as they first appear.

Notes: you ever just read a fic that you didn’t know that you needed until after you read it? yeah. featuring the fae and moth jon and excellent characterization.

Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou

As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.

-----

Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.

Notes: This is also the moment where I reveal that im a sucker for jongerrymartin. please read this fic. gerry is brought back from the dead in s4 and everyone is far better off for it.

where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten

Summary:

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?

What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."

________________________

Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Notes: this time travel fixit is shaping up to be an absolutely incredible read. i love the way this author writes jon so so much, and the characterization is spot on. this whole fic just satisfies some little part of me. god. also!! bubonickitten’s writing in general? beautiful. please check out their other works.

The Timeline of Theseus by Applea

Jon tries to force the Spiral to send him back, but the Sprial's corridors never twist things quite the way you want them to. Back in 1996, Elias has no idea why or how the Eye made such a powerful Avatar out of an 8 year old, especially when said 8 year old doesn't actually know he has any powers at all. Clearly such a child cannot be left outside the Institute's care.

Notes: This fic is legitimately brilliant. The author manages to capture the big ADHD mood and the precociousness of baby Jon while managing to write a wonderful storyline. Time travel! Elderly lesbians! A Jonah who is wildly in over his head but was walloped over the head with paternal instinct! Baby Gerry! What more could you possibly ask for?

rooms full of people who do not love each other yet by seaer

Summary:

“Wanted to ask about a book.” The boy has his hand on the counter, and he leans into it, nonchalant. The library is air-conditioned, but by no means frigid, and Jon can’t help but feel sweaty just looking at the layers he’s wearing; what looks like old leather over an olive-green Magnus pullover over his school shirt. “Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Jon says, tetchily, “We’re about to close.”

“I know. Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Notes: I am so in love with this author’s writing style and the way they write the characters!! The jon and gerry friendship is PERFECT and the character interactions are all darling.

if you read these fics please send the authors some love, they definitely deserve it!!

#tma #fic recs #ill update this as i read #seriously some very very good stuff on here #long post

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unlikelymilkshakedream · 3 years

Text

It was a typical Friday in riverdale, you woke up and were excited for the weekend because this week had literally tried you to no ends. Your homework had stacked up horribly, you hadn't hung out with your friends all week, much less your boyfriend, Sweet Pea.

As the bell rang signaling the end of the school day, you felt excited to go to the white wyrm and get drunk around you lr friends, however those hopes quickly died down as your teacher called you to stay after class.

"Y/n, before you go id like a word with you."

"And I'd like a magic pony, but so rarely do we get what we want." You sassed back. You wanted nothing more than to climb behind sweets on his motorcycle and drink until you couldn't see straight.

"Y/n, your currently failing this class, I'm sorry but you need to do better. I know you, you're a smart person and you can do great things. You need to try harder." Your teacher looked like he wanted to be nice, but you were not in the mood.

"Mr. Yelich, I am trying hard, but you don't exactly make it easy, assigning more work every class, on top of the other 8 classes I have with a job and a social life. It will get done I promise, I am trying very hard." You were more than anything exhausted. Your job had kept you up late and no matter, you still had to stay up even later doing homework.

As you left the school building, you knew all of your friends would be gone already, including pea, who you told to not wait for. Instead you decided to catch a ride with your fellow serpent, Jessica.

When you got to the wyrm, you walked in and immediately ordered a shot of fireball. Surrounded by the crowded bar, no less. Tonight you decided you were going all in, blackout or back out, and you never backed out. As you took your fifth shot, you heard a voice behind you.

"Damn, like they're trying to get drunk, you know its just a stunt to get some dick, no wonder sweet pea hasn't talked to them all week." You turned around to see some beach blonde bitch with a posey of girls looking right at you. You sighed annoyedly.

"Now I know you weren't talking to me because one, who the fuck are you, two if I wanted dick I could get it sober unlike you bimbo bitches and three, what the hell do i care if I see sweet pea? I'm not his tender and he ain't my protector. So go find some other dumbass to lay into to make you feel better about your pathetic life. Thank you."

Apparently, the girls couldn't take it as well as the could dish it and instead jumped you in the middle of the bar. Since you were a little intoxicated it wasn't as easy as it would have been, however that didn't stop the undefeated Y/N Y/L/N. You grabbed the blonde by her hair after she suckered you in the rib and kneed her nose.

The girl next to the blonde grabbed you and layed a blow to your face while the third and final girl kicked you in the back. You went after the third girl, grabbing her arm and breaking her nose with your fist, while the other two punched your back and arms. She stumbled backwards and you turned to the other girls.

The blonde punched you in your nose, causing blood to drip onto the floor. The second girl layed three nice punches in your stomach. At this point your fight had gotten the attention of majority of the bar.

Just as you had knocked the brunette to the ground, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and hoist you off of the ground, separating you from kicking the others asses.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?" Sweet pea asked as he set you down. Tall boy came over at the same time.

"What the hell is going on here? Brooke, Sam?" Both girls got up with blood running from their faces and looked at the ground. "Y/n?" Tall boy turned to you.

"Nothing, if a bitch wants to talk shit, she better be ready to back it up." You say spitting blood on the floor.

"Y/n, you can't fight among serpents. You know the rules, if I catch you one more time, your suspended." Tall boy pointed a sharp finger in your face.

As he walked away, sweet pea grabbed your arm and turned you towards him. "Y/n, why did you do that?" You slapped his hand away.

"Fuck off sweet pea, I don't need your protection, I can handle myself. I'm your girlfriend, not some kid you need to take care of." You yelled in his face, followed by a shot of whiskey and then you stormed out of the bar. Sweet pea was stunned, you never yelled at him, much less in front of people.

As you left the bar slinging your jacket over your shoulders, you heard pea following you. "Hey, what the hell was that in there? Huh, don't you ever talk to me like that again." You turned to him, anger rushing through your veins.

"Why, because it makes you look weak? Sweet pea, you always talk to me like that and im fucking tired of it. I'm a serpent just like you. I'm your girlfriend, okay? You're not my guardian angel, and I don't need protection. Every other serpent sees me as your girlfriend and its bullshit!" You were screaming at him in front of everyone in the parking lot, not caring anymore and tired of his shit.

"Y/n, I never once tried to be your guardian angel. And if I want to help you who the fuck are you to say no?" Your laugh was filled with anger.

"Oh don't fucking kid yourself sweet pea. You want a girl you can make a house wife, you got the wrong fucking one. If you think i need your help you can walk in the other direction and never look back. Go fuck yourself." You spat as you turned away from him and got glances from other serpents who were in the parking lot.

"Y/n, you're fucking scum!" He shouted at you. You didn't care however, you just continued storming off. You had hoped tonight you could let loose and let the worries die away. But as tears streamed down your face as you walked into the dark, you couldn't help but hate how he didn't see your pain and stress.

He only cared how he looked and not how you were feeling. He didn't care about everything that had happened that week, he only wanted to look tough, like you were nothing more than a girl he could easily replace. But oh, was that the farthest thing from the truth there could be.

As you walked down the dimly lit street, you promised yourself, never to let anyone control you or make you feel this way again. You deserved someone better, someone who knew not to fuck with you, and you would be damned if you ever let anyone step on your fire again.

A/n: hi, so I tried my best to write this in a way that anyone could read, I hope I did a good job! I hope you like it and to anyone who feels like they aren't taken seriously, I just want you to know that I believe in you, and don't ever let anyone tell you what to do. You are amazing and deserve to show it! I love you all! Thank you for the love on some of my recent works <333

#sweet pea riverdale #sweet pea #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea angst #sweet pea imagine #riverdale #south side serpents #southside serpents

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ivyuns · 3 years

Text

violation 2

hwang hyunjin

genre: angst

word count: 0.9k

warnings: mentions of death and pregnancy, psychopath! fiancé, revenge, hyunjin gets hurt, this story is read in 3rd person, not proof read, police officers are in the story, arrested, kinda rushed, if anything else, lmk!

summary: after hyunjin kills you, your fiancé tries ways to get revenge on hyunjin

note: hi! im sorry this came out a month late than it shouldve had but its here! for those who are wondering, landing in your heart will continue after may since ill be on summer break.

masterlist

part one

after your sudden death, your family was having problems. since your cafe was popular in that area, many reporters came to the house, asking what happened.

all your fiancé could say is that you were murdered by your best friend. which he was right.

after your funeral, your fiancé went to your cafe and went to see the security footage from the night you didn’t come home. first he saw that you were inside the cafe, alone with hyunjin. he heard you tell hyunjin that he could go home for his “exams”. he checked the other cameras and saw hyunjin picking up his hoodie. the same hoodie he wore when he kidnapped you.

after you cleaned up and everything and left the cafe, he got to see your beautiful smile that he’ll never see again. he smiled but was quickly faded away whenever he saw hyunjin behind you as you were walking the other way.

“fuck you, hwang hyunjin.”

the following days after your funeral, your fiancé had told your mom about him suspecting hyunjin for your death. “the hwang hyunjin? no it can’t be him!” your mom exclaimed and laughed but your fiancé left of poker face on him.

“m-mom please take this seriously. there’s camera footage that hyunjin was following y/n.” he said, almost begging for her to believe him. and after showing the camera footage, she grew pale. ‘i should’ve known from the start’ your mom thought to herself.

your fiancé and mom partnered up and researched about hyunjin and his job. “skz?” he questioned. your mom looked away from her computer to look at her son in laws and read “kwonga has stole billions of cash from skz.”

kwonga.

it was your dad’s nickname.

“oh my god. i-i mr kwon stole money from hyunjin- i-is that why hyunjin killed my daughter-“ your mom said, almost not believing what she just put together. almost passing out of the fact that her husband was secretly in a mafia, your fiancé took her to her bedroom for her to rest as he went back to work.

‘skz mafia whereabouts’

he clicked on the link and read hyunjin’s profile. ‘left recently due to high amounts of stress and anxiety.’

after hyunjin left skz, he moved back into his parents. of course, his parents didn’t know he was in a mafia so he used the best excuse he could think of which was “i quit my job as a grocery worker”

hyunjin unpacked his bags and kkami came into his room. “hi kkami!” hyunjin exclaimed and went on the floor to pick up kkami. but kkami ignored him and jumped on his bed and laying down. hyunjin frowned and went back to unpacking.

hours later, he decided to take a walk around since it’s been awhile. he walked around and he realized your cafe was around the corner of his house. he saw all the flowers and pictures of and for you at the front, with some people standing in front of it, grieving for you and your unborn baby.

hyunjin walks up to the front door and walks inside the cafe. the cafe was now spacious and was filled with your favorite things. stuffed animals, fairy lights, favorite colors, etc.

he smiled as he remember the thought of you two being kids. how you always dreamed of having a successful cafe in the future. hyunjin regrets accepting his mission. if he was just his old and normal self, you would still be here. enjoying the happy smiles of your customers and employees.

“hwang?” someone calls out.

hyunjin turns around to see your fiancé behind the counter. eyes puffy and red from seeing all your things here. “h-hey f/n. i uhm i just came here to see what happened. and i’m sorry you lost two amazing girls in your life.” hyunjin quickly said and exited the small building.

your fiancé catches up to him and whispers into his ear. “you’ll be next.” but as hyunjin turned around, he saw nobody. hyunjin quickly ran back home and thought about his choices.

a few days has passed and hyunjin was locked inside his room. he didn’t fully know about the term “you’ll be next” but he knows that one of these days will be his last.

“hyunjin-ah. please come out and buy me groceries.” hyunjins mom knocked on his door and left money on the floor next to his door. hyunjin sighs and gets up. getting ready and grabbing the money off the floor and leaving.

before he could enter the grocery store, he was greeted with police officers. “please stop and show us your id. we heard there was a murder but the murder hasn’t been turned in yet.” the police told hyunjin.

hyunjin nods his head, sweating. he takes out his id and all the information matched the murderer description. “mr hwang hyunjin, you’re under arrest for kidnapping and murdering kwon y/n and her unborn daughter.”

“no! t-that’s not me!” hyunjin yelled at the officers. but it was no use. he’s been caught.

handcuffs were locked on his wrists behind him and got into the car. the police officers called his parents about his arrest and was terrified of their own son.

your fiancé who was hiding saw the whole scene. proud of him and your mom. it started pouring and he was still outside. he looked up and smiled. “you’re welcome, y/n.”

he didn’t want to kill hyunjin, because he knew you’ll be upset with him by killing your once best friend. instead he wanted to turn in hyunjin but secretly. tears left his eyes and the stress has left his shoulders.

“thank you my love.”

“thank you dadda”

his smile grew wider, hearing the sweet voice of yours and hearing his daughter who he wish he met. “i love and miss you two.”

END <3

deeply apologizing for the ending :(

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin angst #stray kids angst #skz angst #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids hyunjin #jyp skz #jyp stray kids #kpop #kpop angst #kpop fluff #angst

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psychedellic-phase · 4 years

Text

Fifteen (pt 14)

A/N: Sorry for the delay! I’m back at college but the next, and final 2 (!!) parts will be up within two weeks! AH! Thank you all so much for reading xoxo

Word count: 6.7k

Tw: angst, cursing, vomiting, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

“When I got home from Florida the house was even emptier. During the four days I was stuck in a hotel room drowning in my own tears and the minibar, you packed up the rest of your stuff and left. At that point, most of your things were in your apartment, all you had to get was some clothes and books. I wonder how long it took you to pack it all up, pack your life with me up. Did you stare at the walls and cry? The same way I did when I packed today? Did you take your time, go through each room and remember everything we did? Did you take it all in? Admire what we could have been? Were you even a little bit sad about leaving the life we tried and failed to build together? Or were you in and out in ten minutes? Did you shove your clothes in a suitcase, the same way you did in Florida, and walk out like it was nothing? Was it easy? Was it a relief? Were you happy to leave the key, lock the door, and never have to come back?

I know I was devastated when I found it.

It was in the dish we used to put our car keys and ID tags in. It was right by the front door. It was the first thing I saw when I got home. I walked in and dropped my own keys in the dish, and to my surprise I heard them clink as they hit into yours. At first I thought that meant you were there, waiting for me. I thought you were going to emerge from the kitchen with a wide smile and I’d run into your arms. So, I called out for you, yelling like an idiot in the front doorway, but I was only met with silence. The silence that signified the absence of you. The silence I had grown comfortable floating in.

I stared at the key for a while, trying and failing to remember when I gave it to you. I feel like I gave you it pretty early on; you definitely had one before Jacksonville. But I cannot for the life of me pinpoint what day I handed you the key, with the hope that you’d always have it. The hope that my home would always be your home because we only felt at home when we were together.

That damn key, sitting in a dish from Target was your way of saying that your home was no longer my home. It was your way of saying that you were done too, and the storm I had tried to control became a full on hurricane. I was sobbing, sitting against the front door and holding onto your key like it was the life raft that could stop me from drowning.

I’d give you this key as your momento, but I had to give it back to my landlord this morning. And now I have a new set of keys waiting for me in Seattle. Keys to a home that isn’t yours; only mine.”

Spencer sat on the couch now, appreciating the softness of it in comparison to the harshness of the dishwasher and kitchen floor. The boarding pass was burning into the kitchen table, his hands sweaty and trembling as he read and remembered.

He remembered every moment after the breakup more vividly than he normally did. Usually his memories were like film strips that he had stored on a shelf in the corner of his mind. He could pick the one he needed out, kick his feet up in the theater of his mind and watch them back, popcorn in hand. But these memories were different. Memories of you were burned in. His brain was branded with them. It wasn’t a movie he could choose to play or not, it was constant, like a sad song stuck in his head, driving him insane. He never stopped thinking about it, replaying every word, regretting every moment, every yell, every item shoved in a suitcase, every raindrop, every tear stained sleeve.

He hated himself for walking out. He hated that he could leave so easily, after his whole life was plagued with people leaving him too easily. He never wanted to be that man, especially to you. He surprised himself when he grabbed the suitcase, held you tightly one last time, and got in the elevator. He was ashamed to admit that the second those steel doors closed and he could no longer see you crying in the hallway, the first thing he felt was relief. He was finally alone again.

But then he realized he was actually alone. All alone. You weren’t there waiting for him to come back anymore. You were gone, and he was alone.

The whole flight home didn’t feel real, it was like an out of body experience. He felt like a shell of a person, a hollow body merely going through the motions as the events of the last three years played in his mind. How did those people who danced in the kitchen in the daybreak’s sunlight end up here? One of you on a plane to escape the other, who was no doubt drowning themselves in mini tequila bottles and crappy room service food. How did the people who swore to love each other through everything, end up as two lonely hearts wondering why promises and hearts are so damn easy to break.

The numbness first started up there in the sky, with nothing but gray stratus clouds to keep him company. The realization hit him up there. He was wrong. He couldn’t do this alone. He couldn’t be alone. He needed you; you needed each other. He thought about asking the pilot to turn around, take him back to that island so he could save this. He could pull the blue velvet ring box out of his bag and fix everything with just a few words.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he ate airplane peanuts and tried not to cry. When they landed and took the subway out as far as it would go and walked to your house. He hadn’t even intended to go there, it just happened. He started walking and his feet brought him there without his brain having any say. He stared at the front of the house, remembering the countless times he carried you over the threshold because you couldn’t stand. He remembered how he’d decorate for Halloween in September and how the day after Thanksgiving, you’d beg him to take out the boxes of Christmas decorations. He remembered how you insisted on listening to ‘It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas,’ as he strung lights around the front porch and you made him hot chocolate.

The house he saw now was bare. There were no Christmas lights strung on the front step, like they usually would have been by December fourth. There were no statues of snowmen and no wreath. It was just a house that was so clearly devoid of any and all love.

He hadn’t thought about how the weather would be different there than in Florida, but the cold was comforting in a way. He didn’t bother changing. He stood in front of the house he no longer had any right to call his own, in flip flops, shorts, and a dress shirt. He allowed the cold air to bite at his skin until he was as numb on the outside as he was on the inside.

He unlocked the door with his key, and took his time moving around. He started at the front door, where he saw the picture of the two of you at Rossi’s and his hatred for the four walls he used to call home came back. You hadn’t changed much of the place. The ultrasound was still pinned to the fridge with a smiley face magnet. Old flowers were hanging from the wall, case files littered the table. It looked like home, it just didn’t feel like home.

He went through everything slowly, over several days. He started in the living room, where he saw the cave of blankets you’d no doubt been living in and the crack in his heart became a canyon. He should’ve been laying in those blankets with you, staring at the TV and listening to you drone on and on about how much you love Nick Miller. He hated that he wasn’t there with you. He climbed inside, in an attempt to make up for all the times he missed, and allowed the smell of you to envelope him. He dreamt of you.

When he woke up the next morning, he smelled you again and instinctively reached out to pull you close to him, but when he did his hands were met by a mass of blankets rather than your warm skin. He sighed, and went into the kitchen. There he grabbed his favorite mug from the cabinet, filled it up, and sat at the table as he read the newspaper. He imagined you next to him, bringing him the sugar bowl and laughing at the name of the obscure town on the top of the page.

“Where is Biwabik?” You’d say, pushing the sugar bowl over to him as he took two more spoonfuls.

“Minnesota,” he’d say plainly, reading about their local fireman’s bazaar.

“Oh, yeah, Biwabik, Minnesota,” You’d laugh and kiss his forehead before going upstairs to take a shower.

He finished his coffee while staring at the gray sky. He hoped it would snow, so when you came home you’d be greeted by your favorite weather.

He took a blisteringly hot shower and opened up your body wash just so he could memorize what it smelled like, just in case he never got to smell it again. The hot water defrosted his inner and outer numbness, allowing all his feelings to come to the top. The water mixed with his tears, the same way yours had with the rain. He was waiting for the day dream to end, all he wanted was to hear the sound of you opening the shower curtain, poking your head and asking, “Can I join?”

But that soothing sound never came.

He stood under the hot water until it went cold, and moved into the bedroom. He stared at the bed he used to curl up next to you in. He found it hard to even look at, considering the last time he slept in it he woke up to the sheets being stained in blood. He moved to sit on the bed, trying not to disturb the specific way you made it. He looked at the sticky note you had placed next to you. It was from him, saying ‘I went in a little early today, didn’t want to disturb you on your day off. I can’t wait to see you at 6. I love you, Love.’ He smiled, knowing you placed it there so it was the first thing that you saw when you woke up each morning. But then he remembered that you put it there because each morning you weren’t waking up next to him. This note was as close as you could get.

He looked through your drawers, smiling at the CalTech hoodie folded neatly on top. He decided to leave that one in the drawer. That way you’d always have a physical piece of him, even though you’d always have his heart.

He moved from there into the nursery. It was empty. A regular person would just think it was a green spare bedroom, but he knew. He knew which wall the crib was going to go on. He knew that the hook from the ceiling was meant for the mobile Penelope had made. He knew what should’ve been there.

Spencer spent three entire days in the house. He ate there, slept there, cried there. He felt all the feelings he’d been running from, and regretted that he hadn’t stayed with you to feel them together.

Rossi was right, the only way through this was to lean on each other. Spencer hadn’t. He leaned as far away from you as he could. He realized just how lonely that two-bedroom could feel, and he understood how you’d nearly gone crazy in there. He was there for three entire days, and felt like he aged fifty years. Somehow, he felt closer to you than he had in months, even though you were 1,074.6 miles away in a hotel room he should’ve been in too.

He talked to the moon each night, begging it to answer him. He didn’t know what to do. Should he let you go? Isn’t that the saying? ‘If you love something, let it go. If it doesn’t come back it was never yours in the first place’? Would you ever come back? Were you ever his? Was he ever really yours? Should he honor your wishes to break up? Should he pack this life up and leave without any closure? Without a proper goodbye? Or should he wait for you there? Kiss you the second you walked in the door and tell you that he was a fool, an idiot, that no one ever meant as much to him as you do? Should he fight for you?

But then he heard your voice ringing in his ears, “Don’t bother.”

“Don’t bother.”

And he didn’t. He packed his few things up, took one long, final look around with tears in his eyes, dropped his spare key in a dish, and walked home alone.

“You forgot a few things, of course. You forgot the watch. You forgot the CalTech hoodie. You forgot your favorite mug. You can tell it’s well used and well loved because there’s a permanent coffee stain in the porcelain around the top where you always let it sit because it was too hot to drink.

I gave you the mug my first day back to work. I couldn’t stand looking at it every time I opened the cupboard. I decided to be nice, give it to you as a peace offering before we started onto the uphill battle that was working together. I’d also like to consider this whole box a peace offering. I’m not mad at you. I don’t hate you. It’s the complete opposite, Spence. I love you too much to just watch you and not be with you.

Three weeks after Florida, Hotch called me in for another mandatory evaluation. And I passed. I passed because I went to the counselor. I talked to Dr. Stevens for an hour and a half every Thursday and Sunday morning. I’d go in and he’d give me a glass of water and we’d chat. Sometimes it was about work, turns out I have a lot of pent up grief from all the things I’ve seen, but usually it was about us. I think I spent at least an hour and fifteen minutes each week talking about us. I told Dr. Stevens about every memory I’ve included in these letters. I told him about all of it, from the day I realized I love you, to the day I realized that I couldn’t anymore.

It was hard, probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I had to pour my heart out to someone who didn’t know me. I had to pour my heart out to someone who wasn’t you. I had to grieve the loss of a child and of a lover at once. But to my surprise, he helped. In a weird way, he seemed to understand. I know that’s just because it’s his job, he is literally trained to understand and help people with their grief, but I feel like he knew me. Not nearly the way that you did, but he knew me.”

A dark green monster formed in Spencer’s chest. The thought of another man learning about you in the way he had was enough to make his mouth taste sour. You let this other man into the most intimate parts of your brain, places only Spencer had ever gotten to go before. Did Dr. Stevens know you better than him? He couldn’t help the envy blooming in his chest at the idea. He wanted to be the person you poured yourself out to, and he had been. He wanted that back.

“I’m doing better. That’s how I passed the eval. A male grief counselor helped me through my grief, which you said wouldn’t work. And you were wrong. I must admit it gives me a little bit of joy to tell you that. For once, Spencer Reid, you were wrong. And maybe if you had just agreed to go with me, you would feel better too. If you had just agreed, we never would have had that fight. You never would have packed a suitcase and gone down an elevator alone.

I was right. For once in our lives, I was right, and you were wrong. I just wish it was about something more trivial than this.

My first day back was a Wednesday, about a month and a half ago. I was terrified. I hadn’t seen you since Florida and everyone knew what had happened. Hell, my first day back in DC after the breakup, Derek sat me down with a bottle of tequila and let me cry until the couch was underwater. I just knew it would be awkward and painful and sad. I knew that our friends would stare at us and ‘pick sides’ as if we had suddenly become enemies. I was scared to sit at my desk across from yours and have to look at you. I was scared of the feelings. I was scared of all the progress I’d made in counseling going down the toilet the second I laid eyes on you, and I was right.

I showed up that morning in my best pencil skirt and blouse and pretty red heels. I did my hair. I put on makeup. I tried to make myself look good, so then I’d feel good. I had to fake it, so you wouldn’t be able to see the real me. I caked on makeup to cover up the bags under my eyes from crying over you for weeks. I brushed my hair and strands kept falling out because my hormones changed and I couldn’t eat most nights. I wore black tights so you wouldn’t be able to see the bruises on my knees from the nights I drank and cried and ended up with my head in a toilet, knees bumping the cold tile floor; desperately wishing it was morning sickness, so you’d be close behind me, rubbing my back and taking care of me.

When I exited the elevator, everyone greeted me as usual. I got hugs from the whole team, but you didn’t budge from your desk. You were staring at a book that I know you weren’t reading because you weren’t turning the pages. You were listening to me say hi to Rossi, tell him I missed him, and I could swear eyes flicked towards me a few times when I hugged Derek. That’s probably just wishful thinking, because I wanted you to look at me. I wanted you to see me, see that I was “fine.” I wanted you to look at me because I couldn’t stop looking at you. You, who I fell in love with over these same BAU desk partitions. I saw the ghosts of me and you three years ago, young and happy, your hair curling over your eyebrow, your pursed lips, the way your tie was just slightly crooked. I saw the you I wanted. I saw the man I stared at with lovesick stars in my eyes as we filled out Hotch’s paperwork. I saw me and you and Jacksonville and Meridian Hill Park and everything that we could have been.

And I cracked.

You didn’t even have to speak to me, Spencer, and I cracked.

I dropped my bag on the floor next to my desk and ran to the bathroom to cry off the makeup. Seeing you felt like I was drowning but on fire at the same time. I swear time stopped for a moment when I exited Garcia’s hug and saw you across the BAU. And suddenly I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t remember a single coping mechanism Dr. Stevens showed me. I just stood there. Frozen. Trepidation. Regret.

I stared at myself in the shitty flourescent lights of the bathroom, tears washing away my concealer and exposing the dark bags that matched my blood shot eyes. I stared at the way my cheek bones hollowed out since I’d lost over twenty pounds. I stared at a person I didn’t recognize, and that’s when I realized that I wasn’t the same person you fell in love with over the BAU partition either. I wasn’t the chirpy girl helping you jump start your car anymore. I wasn’t the same girl who bought your mother’s favorite book just to try and impress her. I wasn’t me. You weren’t you. So how could we possibly be us?”

Hotch had called Spencer into his office that morning to tell him you would be coming back.

“Is this going to be an issue?” He said, Spencer fiddling with his thumbs in an attempt to hide from Hotch’s stare.

“No, no problem.”

Hotch knew he was lying, and Spencer knew Hotch knew he was lying, but he was nice enough to let it go.

He sat at his desk and opened that book on epicureanism with the full intention of reading it. He was going to immerse himself in that in an attempt to avoid you. But when he opened the cover, the letters all jumbled together like alphabet soup on the page. Then he heard the familiar clack of your heels, and he looked up, just for a second. He noticed how beautiful you looked, but he recognized the sadness in your body. It was the same sadness he saw in his own every morning as he struggled to find the will to move from his position in bed.

He hadn’t gone to a counselor and learned coping mechanisms, the only one he knew was avoidance, but how could he avoid you? How could he avoid the way your smell lingered even after you dropped your bag and bolted to the bathroom? How could he avoid staring at the way Derek wrapped his arms around you, wishing they were his instead? How could he avoid the persistent, twisted, aching heart in his chest? How had he managed to avoid you for so long? He saw you up close, in the place you fell in love, for just a moment and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to kiss you.

“When I got back from the bathroom, I knew you could see me. You could see the real me, the me you didn’t want.

I decided I wasn’t going to make this as painful for everyone else as it was for us, so I grabbed my bag, took the mug out and handed it to you.

“I, uh, I found this in the cabinet,” I said weakly, and you grabbed it, our fingertips just brushing each other, an action that usually sent lightning down my spine, “I know it’s your favorite one so I wanted you to have it back.”

“T-Thanks,” You cleared your throat, “I’ll go fill it up with coffee. Want one?”

I smiled through the pain, proud of myself that our first interaction went well, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You brought me a coffee, made correctly. Cream and one sugar. I took it from you with a fake smile, trying to force back the pain in my chest.

Derek watched that entire painfully awkward interaction, and he pulled me into his office after.

”You good? That was a lot back there.”

I whined, “No. I’m not good. I’m actually very bad.”

He sighed and pulled me in for a hug, “You’ve got this. You and Reid can handle it. We all know you still love each other.”

I started to cry into his chest, just softly. I didn’t need anyone else seeing how broken I was.

“Why did I think I could do it? I should just transfer.”

That was the first time I considered it out loud. The thought had been rattling around in my head for a bit, but saying it made it real.

Derek argued, “No, you don’t need to transfer.”

“Yes I do! Hotch said as much three years ago.”

“Just focus on getting through today, okay?”

I nodded, taking three deep breaths with Derek’s arms on my shoulders, keeping me grounded.

That’s when Penelope opened the door, poking her head in and telling us it was wheels up in twenty.

“You can stay here with me,” She said, coming over to hug me.

I shook my head, wiping away my last few stray tears, “No, I’ve been gone for far too long. I’m coming back.”

She smiled, “I’m so glad you are.”

We all went on the jet, Hotch insisting he’d brief us in the air. I sat at a window seat, next to Derek and across from Hotch and Rossi. You, Alex, and JJ sat opposite from us. I could feel the tension, the passing glances, the sides being chosen, the hushed voice you spoke in so I wouldn’t hear you or even look at you. I felt like an outcast in a plane full of my favorite people.

The case was in Las Vegas. Of course my first case back had to be in your hometown. Of course it had to be in a place that felt like a second home for me.

“Morgan, Y/N, take the latest crime scene,” Hotch ordered me, and I let out a nervous sigh that was much louder than I intended. You all turned to look at me, expressions varied from pity from Hotch to annoyance from you.

Hotch looked me up and down, “Actually, Y/N come with me to the precinct.”

“I-uh-okay?” I said, feeling embarrassed and small and useless and worthless. Because while you got to look at the bodies, I got to look at sweaty Vegas cops.

He didn’t think I could handle it. No one did. None of you thought I could, and guess what? You were right.

I fell apart. That entire case I was a wreck. My brain didn’t work right. I couldn’t profile, crime scene photos made me want to cry, I could barely even look at the family members.

I was actually useless there. I was useless because of you. Because the way the files smelled reminded me of you and I had to watch you talk to Alex and JJ and not talk to me and I had to watch the way you scrunch up your nose and the way your hair falls in your eyes and you brush it away. Because you had all the answers and I had none. Because you were always everything, and I merely accompanied you. Because you’re more of an asset to them than five of me would be.

And that’s why I left.

I left because after that case you stayed back for a day and saw your mom, and usually I would’ve been there with you. I left because that flight home was empty without you, even though you weren’t even looking at me. I left because I don’t know what’d I’d do if you ever got hurt and I wasn't the one sleeping in your hospital bed with you. I left because I cannot live in a life that I shared with you anymore. I left because I love you too much to stay.

When we landed in Quantico that day, I went to the bathroom again to cry. Derek followed me but I shoved him off. I locked myself in a stall and screamed one of those silent screams when you’re too angry and frustrated to even make a noise.

I stared at myself in the mirror again. I wasn’t okay. I hadn’t accepted that part yet. I’d accepted everything else except for the fact that I was broken, and no amount of hugs from Penelope or stolen glances at you were going to fix it. The only thing that would fix it was going as far away from you as possible.

I got my transfer papers from Hotch the next day.

He argued, told me to rethink, told me to take more days off, told me that it would all get better with time.

“Reid’s reasonable,” He said, “And if it’s time–”

“No, I know that I want to transfer. You said so yourself. If it got too hard, I’d have to go. Well it’s too hard, Aaron. I have to go.”

He sighed, “What unit? I can get you a place almost anywhere. Sex crimes? Back in organized?”

I twiddled my thumbs and sighed, “LA?”

“LA?,” He shook his head and gestured for me to sit down, “Sit Y/N. We need to talk about this.”

He went on a very convincing lecture then. He almost got me to stay, but the only person who actually could’ve gotten me to stay was you. At the end he reluctantly gave me the paperwork and told me, “I hope you don’t regret this.”

I really, really, hope I don’t.

The papers sat in a file folder on my desk for three weeks, taunting me. I hadn’t gotten up the nerve to fill them out yet. I’m not sure what I was waiting for. I think maybe I was waiting for you, or maybe I was waiting for it to get better. Waiting for it to not hurt every time I looked over at you or heard you laugh with JJ. But after three weeks, I realized that was never going to happen. It was never going to stop hurting me or stop hurting you, so I filled out the papers last Thursday, and five days later Hotch told me about Seattle. I immediately accepted, and packed up my desk.

Except for this, your item for this letter, my name plate. “Y/N Y/L/N Supervisory Special Agent- Behavioral Analysis Unit” doesn’t really belong on my new desk. The nameplate reminds me of pining over you across the round table and Emily poking my shoulder and telling me ‘just go for it!’ It reminds me of sneaking into your hotel room on cases and double-cheek kisses from Rossi. It reminds me of filling out paperwork to declare our relationship, and filling out paperwork to get away from it. It reminds me of us, all of us. It reminds me of my old life. The life I’d like to leave behind, so it’s yours.”

Spencer’s fingers traced the engraved letters of your name, one by one, his mind far away recalling that case and the few days when he stayed back in Las Vegas. He saw his mom for the first time since everything happened.

The first day he visited and the nurses told him it was a good day, one of her best days in recent history. He smiled sadly, knowing that what he was about to share would make it one of the worst.

He walked into her room, every muscle tensed. Diana smiled, wrapped her arms around him warmly and the first thing she did was ask for you.

“When I heard I was getting a visit I was thrilled! Where’s Y/N? Gosh she must be big by now.”

He avoided her gaze, as if he was a child avoiding being scolded, “Y/N isn’t coming.”

“She’s not?” She asked, and Spencer immediately regretted not telling her about the last two months sooner. He kept putting it off, not quite knowing how to break his mother's heart while dealing with his own.

“No, mom, and I think you should sit down.”

“Sit? Spencer, sweetheart, what is it? You’re worrying me.”

He sat down, knee bouncing and hands fidgeting just to release some of the pent up energy inside of him, “Y/N and I, we–we broke up.”

Her eyebrows furrowed, just as his always did, lips pressed into a line, “Spencer Reid you left a pregnant girl? I raised you better than that!”

He bit his lips, not knowing exactly how to say the words that came next, “Mom, Y/N, she–“ He stopped himself, correcting himself for once, “We lost her.”

Diana’s mouth fell open slightly, “Lost the baby?”

Spencer couldn’t do much but nod, the tears he had been forcing back for weeks flooding his eyes and running over like a waterfall. His eyes were shut, the shame of it all overcoming him.

The next thing he felt were her arms around him, pulling him close as he fell apart.

“Th-there was nothing I could do, nothing anyone could do,” he choked out between ragged breaths, “I-I should’ve been able to do something! I should’ve been able to protect her and I didn’t and now—”

She cut him off, her cold hands rubbing the tears off his hot cheeks, “Sometimes things just, well they just happen.”

He nodded, “And then Y/N…”

“Spencer, how’d you let her go?”

He shrugged, wiping at his nose, “I-I don’t know. I can’t believe I left. I just—“

His voice was getting rushed and his breath was getting quick, like he was drowning in tears and regret.

“Shh, stop,” She said, hands running through his hair the same way they did when he was a boy, “You’ve already lost so much, don’t lose her too.”

When he left his mother that day he took her words to heart. He wasn’t going to lose you too, he was going to make up for those two months. When he arrived back in DC, his first stop was your house. He knocked on the door, go-bag on his shoulder. There was no answer. He knocked again. And again. And again.

You never opened up.

He was expecting you to open the door and smile at him and invite him inside, but the door stayed locked, his key to it being inside. That night he stayed on the step until one in the morning, when he begrudgingly got in his car and drove away. The next night he came back, and the next, and the next, and the next, the door always staying shut. He left each time feeling more and more defeated.

He knew you were in there, he could see your shadow appear and disappear, and every night he’d stay until the January air became too much to bear. He swore he could hear you slide down the door a few times, sitting as close back to back with him as possible.

He went every night until one day, when he was laying against the cold door, half asleep and frostbitten, Derek appeared in front of him.

“Reid,” He whispered, voice sympathetic but also stern, “You gotta stop doing this. This isn’t healthy.”

Spencer stood up, his breath visible as he spoke, “I know.”

“She isn’t going to let you in.”

“I know,” he mumbled, fixing his wool coat and starting to walk away. Derek watched him as he made his way across the snow-covered yard. He turned around and called to him.

“Morgan! Just, just tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I miss her.”

Derek nodded, opening your front door and entering the place Spencer wished he could be: with you.

“I don’t know what happened to you in Vegas, but when you came back, you were different. At work you still avoided me like I was a rat with the plague, but then every night I’d hear you knocking on my door, begging to be let in.

“I love you,” you’d say, “I take it all back.” As if you ever could.

I’d sit on the stairs that face the door, head in my hands, trying to find the willpower to keep the door closed. Then I’d see your key, sitting in the dish you put it in, and it was easy to keep the door closed, because you’re the one who shut it.

You came almost nightly for a week. I’d always look through the peephole. I’d sit with my back to the door the same way yours was. I’d wrap myself in a blanket and sleep there, as close to you as I could, but I kept the door shut.

I know it’s terrible, but part of me wishes that we never met. That instead I stayed making espresso shots in Connecticut and never went back to this life. In this wish, Dave never called me. I never saw your dopey smile and immediately fell in love. Maybe then you wouldn’t be all I think about. Maybe then you’d get out of my head, because as long as I know you, I’ll never love anyone else.

But that way of thinking is behind me. Now, I see you as a lesson I had to be taught. I learned how to love, and how I deserve to be loved. I learned how to smile and laugh and really care about someone other than myself. I learned how to grieve and appreciate my life and I learned what real, true love is. I learned about soulmates and science and how to smile so hard my cheeks hurt. I learned how to let go.

But I learned hard lessons too; like that the Beatles were wrong, love isn’t all you need. You need passion and commitment and happiness and compromise. I learned that sadness can be a greater emotion than love. I learned that heartbreak is real and sometimes the people you love more than anything in this world can hurt you. And I’m grateful to you, for every lesson you ever taught me. I’m grateful for every single second I spent with you. I’m grateful for you, Spencer Reid.

Thank you.”

“Thank you”

He could practically hear you whisper it to him.

He found it funny that you were thanking him for breaking your heart, time and time again, because all he felt was regret.

He glanced up at the clock, realizing that he needed to leave now if he had any chance of making the flight to you. He haphazardly collected the letters and all the objects you gave him from where he placed them around the apartment. He grabbed a duffle bag, stuffing it with clothes and whatever things he thought he may need. He grabbed the ring box, debating for a moment whether or not it was too much, too soon. He decided to throw caution to the wind.

What is it Morgan says? Go big or go home?

Spencer was going big, and you were coming home.

He kicked the front door closed as he left, box overflowing with papers and the ring box burning in his back pocket.

Letter fifteen would have to wait.

Part 15!

—————————

Taglist

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#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fic #matthew gray gubler #reid #mgg #cm #fifteen

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