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darkbluekies · 3 months

Note

Yandere Silas x male reader bodyguard. Relationship:romantic

You and him grew up together in the mafia, Silas fell in love with you but you only saw him as a friend and he ends up falling in love with a girl and this makes you leave the mafia to go abroad with her to live a normal life.

Silas has contacts all over the world and discovers that you are in a country abroad, he kills the girl and kidnaps you

Be mine (you have no fucking choice)

Yandere!mafia oc x male!bodyguard!reader

Summary: after being friends with Silas for years, you decide that it is time to pack it up and leave, much to Silas’s dismay.

Warnings: criminal stuff, throwing up, getting drunk by force, ropes, cage, mentions of sleeping around, violence, alcohol

Word count: 4.3k

You put your gun into your belt and get out of the warehouse.

“Hey, where are you going?” Silas asks and grabs your arm.

“I’m going home”, you say. “This mission doesn’t interest me.”

You try to walk, but Silas hurries in front of you, blocking your way. He almost reminds you of the little, stubborn boy he once was when he does that.

“Wait”, he says. “You never drive well after a mission. You have too much adrenaline. You and I can leave together. I can drive you to my house.”

“No, Silas, I’m going home.”

Silas doesn’t react to you calling him by his first name. But he never has. You are special. Only one other person in his entire organization can call him by his first name without getting a bullet through their eyes — that person being his second in command. You and his second in command have known Silas longer than anyone else. You’d dare call his second in command your friend too, although on a more professional level.

You’ve known Silas longer than his second in command has, and you’ve known his little brother, Ares … and you’ve known about his jealousy for a very long time. It started when you one day went home with his brother to play video games after shool. Next day when you entered school, his brother had a black eye and Silas had not left your side for the entire day.

It only got worse from there, but you never did anything. You tried to talk to him, but it seemed like the years made him even more jealous. He dated girls time and time again, but created a big fuss when you showed the slightest interest in anyone — be that boy or girl. You became the third wheel in SIlas’ multiple relationships.

He did admit to his love for you, just a few years ago, but you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. It would make everything harder. You were basically working for him as his bodyguard and didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with him. Losing him as a friend could mean both mental distress … and physical harm.

“Does this have anything to do with the girl I’m dating?” Silas asks.

You look baffled. “No? Why would you think that?”

“Because she’s at the house?”

“No, I just want to go home”, you sigh heavily. “Why do I have to explain my every step to you? You’re not my father, come on.”

“Because I’m worried about you.”

“What a great look for you, mister mafia leader. Don't let anyone else see that.” You nod at him to move. “Move out of the way now, I’m tired and I’m hungry. I want to go home and order a fucking pizza.”

“So this has nothing to do with my girlfriend?”

“What's the matter with you? Are you trying to make me jealous or something? I'm not interested in you, you know that.”

You push past him.

A month passes. You have been seriously thinking about leaving the mafia for a long time now, but ever since Silas got himself yet another girlfriend it became clear that you have to leave, if you ever want to get yourself one of your own. As long as you stay with him, he will never let you date anyone — apart from him, of course.

You’ve decided to move abroad. While packing your bags, you feel tears run down your cheeks. You have known Silas for as long as you can remember. You love to be with him, he is your best friend. Betraying him would mean betraying yourself, and his entire organization. People who betray him gets killed personally by Silas. Neither you or Silas would want that.

However, leaving without anyone noticing would be hard. Silas would know that something was wrong right away and he would use his contacts to find you again. You’d need help with creating false documents … and you knew just the man to help with that.

You hold the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” a familiar voice asks.

“Hi, Ares”, you say.

“How the fuck did you get my number?”

“I did some digging.”

“Holy fuck, Y/N, you need help.”

You chuckle and hear how Ares chuckles in return.

“What did you want?” he asks.

“I need some help.” You look around, feeling like you’re being watched, which wouldn't be very far off. “Can we meet up?”

“Sure. Now?”

“If you can.”

“Yeah, I’m not busy.”

You decide to meet up at a café an hour away from your house, hoping that Silas’s associates wouldn’t recognize you here. You couldn’t believe that you would meet Ares again, you haven't seen him since you were teenagers. He looks the same, just a bit more grown up.

“My brother finally removed the leash around your neck?” Ares chuckles and hugs you.

“No, not really”, you sigh. “This is why I need your help. I know that you scam tight about everyone. And I need you to help me create false documents, passport … yeah, you name it.”

Ares smirks.

“Little Y/N is going on vacation, I see”, he says. “Where are you going?”

“I don't know.”

“Are you trying to get away from my brother?”

You nod. Ares seems to think for a moment.

“Go to Spain”, he says. “Silas is banned from there, he won't be able to get you.”

“Ah, I feel so bad about it, though”, you sigh and run your hands through your hair. “He's my best friend. And boss, technically. If I leave, I betray both my best friend and his organization … and then he has the right to kill me.”

“Wait, you're planning to leave the mafia? For real?”

“I don't want to, but I can't live like this. I want to have my own life. I'm a grown man now, the window for opportunities is closing every year.”

“I'll go with you. I'll protect you.”

“You don't have to, Ares. Look at me, I'm capable of taking care of myself.”

You were Silas’s bodyguard, after all. No weak person gets that position.

“Yes, I know”, Ares says. “But I can help. And you don't have to be lonely.”

“You are an ass too”, you remind him.

“Better than Silas, though.”

You scoff and roll your eyes.

Ares comes with you to Spain. He has given you false documents with new names and nationalities. You sit together at the airport with your phone in your hand. Your stomach is turning.

“I really should tell him”, you sigh nervously. “I don't want to just leave. I have known him for years. I might betray him work wise, but I can't betray him friend wise. I'm going to call him.”

“I don't think you should”, Ares says. “He has been awful to you, why does he deserve your goodbye?”

You groan and hide your head between your knees. Ares brushes his hand through your hair.

“Come on, sweetie, let it go”, Ares encourages you. “Your new life starts soon. Beach, sun and alcohol, all day long.”

You want to tell him that you don't drink, but decide to leave it be.

“I have to go to the bathroom”, you excuse yourself and stand up to walk away.

But you don't go to the bathroom stalls. You stand by the large windows at the gate and call Silas.

“Hi, Y/N”, he says.”I haven't heard from you in a little while. I was about to go over to your house and drag you over to mine, because I miss you.”

“I have to talk to you about that”, you say, hesitantly. “I am not at home, and I probably won't be back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm really sorry that I have gone behind your back, but I am actually leaving … going abroad. And it might be permanent.”

“Have you hit your head?”

“I'm really sorry for betraying you, Silas, you’re my best friend … but frankly, you're always stopping me from getting my own family, while you brag about the women you fuck. I need to get away, at least for a while and get to try to find love. It might not be permanent, but I don't know.”

“Where are you going? You know that you can't leave the country without me knowing. The second any of your credit cards, passport or anything along that way is being used, I'm notified.”

“Well I'm not fucking stupid. I have fixed that.”

Silas scoffs out a mocking laugh.“You don't know how to do that.”

“I had help.”

“From who?” He doesn't sound that cocky anymore.

“Ares.”

Silence.

“Oh, you can't be fucking serious”, Silas says.

You can't detect what emotion he's feeling. Perhaps everything all at the same time. Maybe it was a wrong decision to call him before your flight, but the guilt would have eaten you up the entire way there.

“I am”, you answer, trying your best not to let your voice shake.

“You know what kind of asshole he is, Y/N”, Silas tells you.

“I have done stuff too, I’m no angel either.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I just called to let you know that I am leaving. I didn’t want you to hear that from anyone else, I wanted you to hear it from me personally. This is a goodbye, Silas — at least for now. Thank you.”

“Y/N-”

You hang up and turn off your phone before returning to Ares who’s sipping on a beer by the gate, where you left him.

When you’re allowed to board the plane, you’re already nauseous. What if it wouldn’t work? What if you changed your mind? You already felt bad. Ares puts his hand on your shoulder while you walk through the middle of the plane, trying to find your seat. Ares takes the aisle seat.

“Thank you for giving me the window seat”, you chuckle. “I feel like a kid all over again.”

“Well, I can’t let random folks touch you, can I?” Ares responds. “I’m a gentleman after all.”

Ares sits with his phone up the entire flight, working. You know all about his dirty business, how he scams people left to right with his false businesses.

You fall asleep for a while. Your body has been in a tense position the entire day and finally, you were out of reach. He couldn’t create a storm or shoot down a passenger plane, he wasn’t a God or a military flighter. He is nothing more than a man with a bit too much power for his own liking. And hybris. A whole lot of hybris. Ares turns off his phone to look at you. He smiles slightly. For years, he has tried to take you from Silas. You didn’t want him, but Silas was too selfish to let you be put on the market. He wanted you available at all times, for when the timing was right. Ares stopped trying to reach out to you after a while, knowing that it was pointless, thought that if you wanted to get back in touch with him, you would reach out — and you did. Ares lets his eyes wander over you. He has tried to match your physique, but had no chance against the hours you’ve had to spend at the gym to be able to be Silas’s bodyguard. But under all those muscles, you are nothing but a softie, and that’s why Ares wants you … and Silas too, unfortunately. He always has to compete with his brother over toys they both want.

Silas scoffs angrily and runs his hand through his black hair, and yet he can’t stop himself from laughing. It’s absurd! All of it!

“Why are you laughing, boss?” his second in command asks shortly. “This is nothing to be happy about.”

“I fucking know that?” Silas snaps back. “Do you think I enjoy knowing that my Y/N is on a plane with my psycopathic brother going to fuck knows where?”

“There are not a lot of places he could go to, though. Think about it.”

“I can’t fucking think! Y/N is leaving me!”

“Silas, sit down before you faint, ‘kay?”

Silas, oddly enough, listens and sits down on the couch in his study with his hands gripping the fabric beside him. His second in command stands in front of him with his hands on his hips.

“Listen”, he says. “Ares would fuck with you, right?”

“Right”, Silas responds.

“Which countries are you banned from?”

“Spain, England, Germany, the Netherlands and Ireland.”

“So, one of those countries.”

“But which?!”

“His favorite. Which one is the warmest?”

“Spain?”

“Bingo.”

Silas’s eyes widens and he breaks out into a shocked smile. Why didn’t he think about this? Ares isn’t smart.

“...how the fuck do I do this?” he realizes. “I can’t just take a plane into Spain without being arrested the second I step off the plane. We will need another way. We could get a boat and sneak in.”

“I’ll see what I can do, boss.”

“Do it quickly, I know my brother and he will take what I want. If he does, I will never forgive myself.”

The reason why Silas has never let you date anyone is because he wants what can only be had one way, your innocence.

He sighs and walks out of the room where he finds the woman he’s dating standing with her hands together, looking worried. A certain rage takes over him. The sight of her had made you want to leave. He knows very well that it isn’t her fault, but he can’t help but think that it is. Her existence has put you in a position of discomfort, and for that, she has to pay. Silas doesn’t want to look at her, it only makes him nauseous.

He pulls up his gun from his belt, and without a second thought, he fires off and watches the innocent girl’s limp body hit the floor. But for now, he can’t bring himself to feel bad.

He has to find you. Ares is only nice as long as you're on his side, if you want to disagree with him, he's going to strip you off everything. You just don't know how horrific Ares could be.

Your first few days in Spain couldn’t be more than idyllic — if it weren’t for the fact that you look over your shoulder wherever you go. You scan the areas for familiar faces of Silas’s gang.

“Relax, will you?” Ares says and hooks his arm around your shoulders. “Just enjoy the scenery instead.”

“I think I’m going insane”, you mutter.

“A shot will help with that.”

“I don’t drink, you know that.”

Ares just smiles. You’re on your way back to the house from a restaurant Ares had treated you to. It was obviously a date, but you didn’t know how to tell him that you wanted to take things slow. Ares has never been a patient man … and you aren’t even sure if Ares is the person you want to date currently. Frankly, thanks to Silas, you don’t know what you want to do yet. You’ve only gotten your freedom to do whatever you want a few days ago, and it’s more overwhelming than you expected.

“Do you want to come to my room?” Ares asks when you get to the front door. “We don’t even have to do anything, we can just watch TV.”

“I start to believe that the only reason you wanted to come with me on this trip was to get me in bed”, you scoff and put the keys in the lock.

“Not only-”

“Ares, go to the bar and pick up someone there instead.”

“I can’t leave you alone, I told you that I was going on the trip to protect you.”

“And i told you that I didn’t need protection. If you’re horny, go.”

Ares sighs and gives up. “Fine, call me if you need me.”

“I’ll be fine, I’m tired.”

Ares nods and gives your back a tap before walking back the way you came from. You unlock the door, going into the house. In the corner of your eye, you can tell that something is moving. Instantly, you go into attack mode, but freezing when you notice who it is that is standing up from the armchair.

“I feel like a dad catching their underage kid sneaking in after a night out”, the second in command says.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you question.

The second in command jerks his head. “Fucking guess.”

“Did Silas really send you because he can’t enter the country?” you laugh. “That’s so tragic.”

“Laugh all you want, you’re not the one that have been on a small fucking fishing boat for twelve hours straight!” He collects himself and sighs. “I will give you one chance to come with me voluntarily before I beat your head in.”

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “Try me.”

Silas must have equipped his second in command with things he knew that you wouldn’t be able to combat, because in one way or another, you lose consciousness.

You wake up in a dark, cold room. At once, you try to move your hands to your eyes to rub them clean from drowsiness, but quickly notice how your hands are tied to something behind you. That’s when you realize that you’re stuck in a cage the size of a garden shed, in — what looks like — a cargo hold. Your hands are tied to one of the cage’s bars behind you. Your head is pounding from the hit his second in command had given you.

“Look at that, he’s finally waking up”, a familiar voice says.

“So we don’t need the water?” his second in command asks.

“Let’s keep it.”

Silas walks into the cage, crouching down in front of you. He takes a hold of your chin, directing your head whichever way he wants.

“You gave him a bump the size of mount everest”, Silas mutters over his shoulder.

“He’s a trained fighter”, his second in command replies. “I had to do what I had to do, you know?”

“I guess.”

Silas lets go of your pounding head. You groan softly, feeling out of your own body, while still being trapped inside the cage. You start to cough and Silas grabs the bucket of icy water, holding it to your mouth. At first, you gulp it down … and then realize that it was sea water. You throw it up, right back into the bucket. Silas gives the bucket to his second in command, telling him to throw it out.

“That was fucking disgusting”, you grimace and gag.

“You kind of deserve it.” He fixes your hair that has started to stick onto your forehead. “Why did you do that to me, Y/N?”

“You didn’t let me have my own life. I was living yours, as a side character.”

“You betrayed me.”

You meet his brown — almost black — eyes and feel your heart sink. You have never seen such sadness in his eyes before.

“I know”, you say and turn down your gaze. “I felt really bad about it. I know the rules, and I won’t make a fuzz about it, but can I beg of you that it won’t be you who kills me? I don’t want that to be our last memory together.”

Silas seems to be taken aback.

“I’m not going to kill you”, he says. “In fact, no one is.”

“But I betrayed you-”

“I know, but I can’t kill you.”

“You can’t bend the rules, or else you’ll get a mutiny.”

“Who said that I was letting you off the hook?”

You watch how Silas walks out of the cage, picks something up from the floor, and returns with a bottle in his hands.

“I know that you are strong”, he says, popping the bottle open, “and violent. So, I’m going to keep you calm for the rest of the journey to Portugal. Open your mouth.”

“What is that?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing the bottle wearily.

“Vodka.”

You shake your head quickly. “That’s so foul-”

“I did not ask for your opinion.”

He puts the opening of the bottle to your lips and you try to turn your head, but Silas forces you to drink. With one hand, he holds the bottle, and with the other he holds your chin to make sure that you can’t turn away. You have no other choice but to swallow the burning liquid. He doesn’t let you stop until half the bottle are gone. You cough and gag, but can’t throw up.

“You absolute fu—fucking—”, you cough.

“Calm down, baby boy, it’s just some vodka”, Silas says nonchalantly and takes a sip. “Good for your heart.”

He puts his hand on your heavily raising chest, trying to calm your breathing and feel your racing heart. The alcohol turns your body heat up and you want nothing more than for that bucket of water to come back.

“My right hand man will be here to make sure that you’re not sober for a single second”, Silas says and stands up.

“You can’t fucking leave me like this!” you burst out.

“Then stop me.”

You fight against the ropes and Silas smirks triumphantly before leaving the cargo hold.

The second in command came in every half an hour to give you new sips. You tried to refuse, but with your hands locked behind your back and head spinning with alcohol, there wasn't much you could to to stop him.

You haven't drank anything since you were a young teenager and the rocking motions of the sea wasn't helping you. You refused to throw up again, refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing you in such a state next time they entered.

You hated alcohol even worse now. Fuck Silas.

After what felt like hours — in your drunken state it could very well have been days, or minutes — you couldn't take it anymore.

“Silas!” you shout and your tone goes to a whining, slurred melody. “Silas!”

You've never felt so helpless.

Silas enters with his second in command tightly behind him. He enters the cage and crouches down in front of your pathetic form.

“What?” he asks, cupping your cheek.

“Please stop”, you beg and sob, but you're not sure if the tears come from the heart or the alcohol. “Please …I will do what you want …”

Silas grabs the back of your sweaty neck and directs your wet face into his shoulder, letting you cry. You can feel that your hands are freed from the ropes.

Silas picks you up, carrying you up to the decks above water. His second in command holds your head so that you won't smash it against one of the sharp corners.

Silas tucks you into a bed and leaves you to rest. You can see the shining sun outside the round porthole window as you fall asleep.

He walks out onto the deck of the fishing boat and smirks.

“What?” his second in command asks.

“I'm not single anymore”, Silas chuckles.

“You won again, congratulations. Will you put Y/N into the basement?”

“He can handle that. But most important thing is that he's coming home where he belongs, and there won't be any more childish outbursts.”

“What happened with your brother, by the way?”

“Who cares? I don't want to meet him anyway, so the less I need to deal with him, the better.”

When the fishing boat reaches Portugal, you are dragged to a car and to the airport. You don't say much. Silas disregard for your hate of alcohol and childish behavior has put you off. If it weren't for the fact that you are hus prisoner now, you wouldn't be his friend anymore.

Silas’s private jet stands ready on an empty field. He holds your arm as he pushes you up the stairs. You rip your arm from his hold.

“I can walk by myself, let me go”, you mutter.

Silas sighs. You sit down in a seat opposite Silas and cross your arms.

“You are glaring at me”, Silas says without glancing up from his phone.

“I'm just trying to determine if you have brain cells”, you spit.

“Aren't you a fun lad?”

“Where is my phone, by the way?”

“Like sharp objects and weapons should be: far away from you.”

“Oh, I see. You're going to treat me like a child.”

“Y/N, I'm not an idiot. I trained you, I know how dangerous you are with weapons. You are even more violent than I am at times.”

“Obviously with good reasons.”

Silas glances up from his phone. You twitch your eyebrows testingly. You might not have your weapons, but your tongue is still sharp.

Being in a relationship with Silas might be more interesting than you thought, and Silas sure as hell will realize that you're not going down without a fight.

“Your girlfriend, then?” you question. “What does she think?”

“Frankly, she can't think a lot at the moment”, Silas responds, turns off his phone and luts it on the table between you.

You get the hint immediately.

“Killing her was unnecessary”, you say.

“Running away from me was unnecessary too”, Silas adds.

“This is going to be a stable relationship.”

“It will be the second you stop with the childish attitude.”

While keeping eye contact, you push his phone off the table. Silas eye twitches as he bends down to get it.

“You're going into the basement when we get home”, he says.

“Can I hit back? Or are you going to have full control and tie me up again? Is that the only way you can win over me? With me being completely helpless?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up before I let you ride on the airplane wing.”

“Sounds good to me.”

You stare at each other, and you refuse to look away first. You're going to make him regret imprisoning you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere oc x reader #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere criminal #male reader

942 notes · View notes

luveline · 1 month

Note

what if bombshell!reader proposed to Spencer? Instead of Spencer proposing to bombshell!reader? Would he be upset or just as happy? Also, I absolutely adore your writing! 🥰💕

ty for requesting!! —spencer gets a love he deserves, 1.4k, fem!reader

The first proper time that you and Spencer slept together, he wasn’t nervous. It was sort of like a high school sleepover. You’d slept in shared beds in stuffy hotels and he’d once stayed the night while he was too drunk to remember it, but the first time you invited him in with intention to just be together, he wasn’t scared. You remember being surprised. Looking back, you shouldn’t have been.

You laid together like you are now. He wore a grey t-shirt and a pair of blue chequered pants, and he’d pushed his hair back all day leaving the front pieces limp, and he’d touched your cheek to encourage your face to his before he moved in for one polite kiss. “I love you,” he’d said, much too early and a couple years too late at the same time.

You turn on your side now to look at him. His contacts are out, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He’s watching a video on his laptop and the line of his jaw is soft. Or, softer than usual. He has a very sharp jaw.

You shift a bit to alleviate the pressure on your hip.

“You okay?” Spencer asks. He doesn’t look away from his laptop nor does he sound tuned in. It’s sort of funny that he manages to care even when he’s not paying attention.

“Yeah.”

“Tired?”

“Not really.”

“Hungry at all?”

“Just brushed my teeth.”

“That’s not the question I was asking.”

“Not hungry, Spencer. Can I watch too?”

He turns the laptop toward you to the point where his view is obscured, raising the volume a touch. “It’s about Tuberculosis. Do you wanna watch something else?”

“No, this sounds interesting.”

He settles in next to you. His fingers brush your chest. For a good forty five minutes, you and Spencer watch the rest of his video. He gets visibly tireder the longer it goes on, but neither of you attempt to get ready to sleep until the video’s finished. He closes the lid of his laptop, twisting in bed to deposit it gently on the floor. There’s a familiar shush of him sliding it under the bed to stop you from standing on it (a learned precaution).

“Did you take that vitamin, the primrose?” he asks, flicking off his bedside lamp, leaving yours as the only source of light in the entire room. It’s a pink glass shade that kisses his pale skin a rosy hue.

“Yeah, Spence.”

He shakes the sheets back and the over you both. One minute you’re apart and the next he’s pulling you into him, confident handed, his breath warming your face as the gap between you thins. Despite his readying, he doesn’t say goodnight, or close his eyes. This is your time now. You often spend time at night just talking to each other about everything you’d meant to say that day, or nonsense conversation, until one or both of you has been lulled into a peaceful sleep.

“I have something I want to tell you,” you say.

“Okay.” He sounds completely trusting, no worrying, no reluctance.

“You remember the first time you stayed at my apartment?”

“No.”

“The second time,” you correct.

“Yes,” he says, grinning. “I was much less intoxicated that time.”

“You were sober.”

“I didn’t feel sober,” he says.

“Nice. You’re getting so good at this.”

“Thank you.”

“But do you remember that?” You trace the curve of his nose. He’ll have to take his glasses off soon. They’ve already worn red crescents into his skin. “You told me you loved me.”

“I can’t forget it,” he says, still grinning. You’ve tried to tell people —idiots— who don’t understand you and Spencer that, even without his million charms and idiosyncrasies, you’d love him for his smile. It changes his entire face. He never looks as beautiful to you as he does when he’s smiling.

“I didn’t say it back.”

“We’d only been together for a few days,” he says. “It was one of my moments.”

“Spencer, I did love you, though. I should’ve told you. I knew in that moment that you really, really meant it, and I just want you to know that when you said it, I could have said it back. I should have. I loved you just as much, I promise.”

“I know,” he whispers, eyes slightly widened.

“I think I’ve loved you since the day we met. It’s cliche.”

“Sometimes things are cliche because they’re good,” he says, laying his cheek more firmly into his pillow as he raises a hand to your face. His thumbs rests in the space under your chin. His fingertips brush along the skin just beside your lips. “And true. I loved you the minute you introduced yourself.”

You savour the feeling of his hand on your cheek.

“You’re so handsome,” you say, “and kind. You’re everything to me. You know that.”

Spencer wraps his arm gently under your chin and behind your head as he lays closer to you. “I know. You’re everything to me. You’re my best friend in the whole world, I– didn’t even know how happy I could be before now.”

“Me too, baby.”

He closes his eyes. Your noses touch.

“Spencer Reid, will you marry me?” you whisper.

Quiet. Aching, total quiet. He curls his arm behind your head until your lips are a hair’s width apart, and when he answers, it’s like he’s spoken directly to the deepest parts of you. “It’s all I want,” he says.

“I got you a ring,” you murmur.

The air races with your heart. The sound of your skin and clothes is the only thing to be heard between breaths. “I got you three,” he says.

“Spencer, what for?” you ask, afraid to open your eyes and break the spell, the branching, unending feeling of connection you share.

“I didn’t know which one you’d like.”

“You’ll marry me?” you ask.

“Angel, I already said yes. I love you. I told you already we’d have to get married.”

“Oh, we have to?”

Spencer kisses you. It’s startlingly open-mouthed for a moment, but you adapt and overcome, you love him and his every touch, tilting your head to the side to allow him room to ferry in and kiss you deeply. It’s slow and measured, then quick and undecided. He turns his face one way to kiss you, then the other, back again, a hint of roughness —of hunger to it as he pulls your face to his.

A spark of heat against your nose.

Your eyes flutter open, a pinked path of light scored diagonally down his cheek. “Spence,” you say, feeling the weight and heat of tears gather behind your eyes, even as you smile, “don’t cry, baby.”

“I feel like I spent my whole life waiting for someone to love me and it doesn’t feel real that it’s you,” he whispers slowly.

“No? How do I make it more real for you, sweetheart? What can I do?” you ask sincerely.

He shakes his head.

You push your forehead into his. He doesn’t cry anymore than two burning hot tears, rubbing your shoulder as you yourself sniffle back your own emotion. You’re really not sad. You hurt for him, but this is one of the best things that’s ever happened to you.

“Do you want to choose your ring?” he asks, enthusing his voice with cheer.

“Do you want to see yours first?”

“Did you get me a diamond?” he asks.

“Don’t be silly, Spencer, of course I did.”

He laughs and kisses you three times in quick succession before he sits up, wiping his face, chuckling wryly. “Sorry, I didn’t think I would react like that.”

You tangle your fingers with his before he can get too far away. “I love you, honey. There’s nothing wrong with crying about it.”

You aren’t expecting to start crying when he slides one of the rings he’s chosen for you over your finger. He says you can see each one in action and choose after you've seen them all, but the moment the band is over your knuckle, you know it’s the one you’ll keep. You push the ring you’d bought for him onto his finger with your cheeks still tearstained.

The diamond on his ring isn’t quite as big as the one he’d bought for you, but it looks right nestled against his pale skin. That night, you talk more than you ever have before, falling asleep only minutes after the glowing threads of morning have painted your twined hands with gold.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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kookslastbutton · 9 months

Text

in your arms ༓ jjk (m)

✑ Summary: You wake up next to your boyfriend for the first time since moving in with him.

Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x girlfriend!reader

AU/Genres: pwp, smut, fluff, established relationship, one shot

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 1,680

Warnings: cussing, jk teasing oc, soft pouty jk, of is restless sleeper which makes jk lowkey sad, sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, morning s*x, kind of rough s*x, unprotected s*x (Don't be like them!) , d*try talk, m*ssionary, b*gging, b**b kink?, sl*t calling once (tame)

Now Playing: A Thousand Years

A/N: needed dometic koo after listening to piano guys play thousand years. I have not seen Twilight but I like the sound track lol. Hope you enjoy! 💞

"You snore." Is the first thing he says to you, eyeing you from the other side of the bed. He's downright adorable with half his face tucked behind the fluffy comforter.

"I do?" You roll on your side. The soft linen brushing against your skin reminds you of your bare state. Last night was the first time you spent the night at Jungook's since moving in. He was a little eager to get you in his bed to say the least.

Jungkook nods in response, eyes still barely peaking out from the covers.

"But...I don't." You smile sheepishly. Many things you're known for doing in bed but snoring was not one of them. You're sure of it. "I definitely don't," you repeat in disbelief. "You're being a little shit again aren't you?"

A grin slowly spreads on your boyfriend's face—his eyes revealing all. What a menace as always. His playful spirit makes you giggle.

"Did you sleep okay?" You yawn and rub your tired eyes.

Jungkook shimmies himself closer to you. His nose is inches away from your the nape of your neck. "No," he says. "You were so far away from me the whole night."

The comforter he was tugging on earlier is now folded under his arm. From this angle, you can trace every muscle on his inked arm, so you do, with the tips of your fingers. "I'm sorry koo, I'm such a restless sleeper. I didn't kick you did I?"

Since a child you've never been able to sleep in one position. You were always starfishing, flopping from side to side, or genuinely just in the twistiest pretzel-like positions possible. Now and then you'd punch or knee at the bed too, depending how vivid the dream you were having was. That's why for the majority of your life you've slept alone.

Jungkook on the otherhand could sleep anywhere in the same position. All he needed was a good grip on his blankets or in this case, you, and he'd fall fast alseep until the morning. But you were not an easy one to snuggle with, causing him to pout until all hours of the night.

"I'm okay, but can we try cuddling or spooning again tonight? Wanna fall asleep with the girl of my dreams in my arms." Your heart does about ten somersaults. Ever since you hit 6 months, Jungkook's been begging you to move in with him and now that you've finally agreed, he's been coordinating your new living conditions down to the last detail.

He's also stopped refering to the apartment as his—it's now our apartment, our haven, our home.

You remove your hand from his arm to fluff through his messy hair. Something about the silky texture makes you unable to stop yourself. Jungkook likes it too. "Of course we can." Your face drops a few shades. "But I'm not sure if it'll be any different from last night. I might hurt you."

In that very moment your boyfriend props himself up on an elbow and leans himself over your body just enough for you to fall on your back. "No you won't," he insists. The same inked arm curls around your waist, pushing your chests together. "I'll hold ya down this time."

Your cheeks warm up from the gesture.

"What's got you blushing doll?"

"Just that you're everything I was hoping for and more." You wrap both arms around his neck, his lips ghosting over yours. "I love you so much." It's hardly a whisper but Jungkook has no trouble hearing.

"You know I was thinking similar," he says, placing a light kiss to the side of your neck. You hum. This will likely be a regular occurrence now that it's Jungkook you'll be waking up to every morning. His affection knows no bounds.

"You're all mine," he continues, tracing circles on your waist with his thumb. Even with the blankets shielding your naked body from his, you feel every imprint of his touch. "I'm all yours, too. And even if you do end up kicking me in your sleep, I'll alway be back for more because I'm in love with you....just try not to kick my dick though, that would kinda be a bummer for both of us." He shoots a quick wink and you snort.

"Sorry," you cover part of your face. "That was so ugly of me." Jungkook's heard you snort a thousand times but you've still a little self conscious about it.

"Its cute."

"Stop, you dont have to say that."

"It's cute because I like making you laugh and seeing you happy make—"

"Makes you horny." You finish the sentence, cackling at his suddenly doe-eyed expression. "I can feel your erection on my thigh Kook."

"Oh," he looks down at himself. Did he think he was being smooth and all trying to hide it and all? You're boyfriend's cute but a good liar he is not. "Well can I stick it in or not?" He looks at you again, expectanty.

"Kook!" You just had sex last night and to be honest you're a little sore from it as well as flopping around in your sleep all night.

Jungkook however is imposible to refuse with his pouty lips and big, ferocious eyes. He simultaneously wants to cuddle you to death and fuck you silly every second of the day. You ask him which he wants to do, he will always want both....at least twice in one go.

"I'll make it quick, promise. And it'll feel good too."

Once you give the okay Jungkook climbs on top of you from under the sheets. You spread your thighs, allowing him to slip in—which he easily does given the fact that he wasn't the only one all worked up.

"Fuck," he breaths above you, hands gripping the mattress on either side of your head. "Such a perfect pussy you know that? Always so wet for me."

"Yes Kook," you let out a small whine. Jungkook's dick always makes you so full so fast. "Fuck me."

"You want it huh?" He teases even though it's him who started this. "You want my big cock to stretch your tiny pussy? Make you scream? Say you want it baby. Need to hear it from you."

You concede to your boyfriend and tell him how much you want it. "Mhm please, need your cock Kook. Want it so bad, want it to make me come, please."

"Greedy little thing aren't you," he seethes, thrusting into you at a slow pace. "Just got fucked three times last night and still want more. What does that make you hm?"

"A slut." Jungkook growls when the words leave your lips. He ends up fucking into you faster, loving the sight of your breasts bounce up and down at the quickened pace. You move to grip onto both boobs but he growls again, letting you know his obvious disapproval.

"Wrap your legs around my waist," he grunts. "And don't you dare think about covering yourself up. Wanna see every bit of you."

You do as he says and he sinks further in you, cock finding that sweet spot at the same time. "Fuckfuckfuck," he chants. "So needy aren't you? Swallowing my cock like it's nothing for your pussy. Who taught you how to take cock this well huh?"

"Jungkook!" You scream when you feel the knot get stronger in the pit of your stomach. You boyfriend smirks and starts kissing up and down your neck.

"Say it again. Who taught you to take cock this well?"

"You—you Jungkook, you did. Please, gonna come soon." You claw his muscular back, knowing your high is about to come swift and fast. You hope to god he lets you come too. Last night he made you wait and wait. You had to keep begging him until he was fully satisfied. You squirted a lot and it was hot but you can't do that again so soon.

"Come for me baby," he coos. "Show me what I taught you back when all you knew how to do was give head. Gonna soak my cock now aren't you? I'm already so wet from your slick, fuck."

"Jungkook—oh god," you moan one last time before finally releasing. Your boyfriend let's out a deep, breathy groan and continues to thrust into for the sake of his own high. "Kook, please, please tell me you're close. It's almost too much."

"Shit just hold tight for me a little longer baby, I'm so close." He fucks into a few more times then spills himself into your warm cunt. You both bask in post-orgasmic blish until your boyfriend leans his head down to capture your lips. It's a bit of a sloppy kiss but still fiery and passionate.

He slips off you after a minute or two of making out, hair sticking to his forehead. "I'm so glad you said yes to moving in."

"What? You just want me here for the sex?" You pant, playful glimmer in your eye.

Jungkook shakes his head. "Of course not." You move to rest your head on his shoulder. "The sarcasm's nice too."

You roll your eyes. You'll be doing this all over again tonight. Maybe he'll be able to keep you in his arms tonight this time—you truly hope.

A/N: thanks for reading! Lmk your thoughts 💞

Masterlist

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfics #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #fic:inyourarms #kookslastbutton

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astroboots · 9 months

Text

EVERY YOU EVERY ME #14

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You try to move on after the Universe has been saved.

Word count: 4,700

Warning: Angst

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

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You're standing in the middle of your old apartment.

The same apartment that had a helicopter crash into it and left nothing but rubble, ash and melted cement in its wake. Except now it's restored, like nothing ever happened.

Your rickety dining table sits in the middle of the room, propped up by a hardcover book to make up for the fact that one leg is crooked. Your tiny double bed with your lumpy mattress is pushed up against the wall. The usual piles of clean and dirty laundry indiscriminately mixed together sits unattended on top of the unmade covers.

You don't understand.

Why is it all back to normal?

You shake your head, snapping yourself out of it.

Miguel… You need to get back to him and you don't have time for this right now.

"Lyla," you summon. A warm ping vibrates against your inner wrist as Lyla appears. "Take me back to the void."

Lyla shakes her head firmly. "I'm sorry I can't do that."

"What do you mean? Of course you can, you've brought us there twice. You did it when Miguel commanded you."

She peers up at you through her pink heart-shaped glasses, with a solemn look in her holographic eyes.

"The first time was a miscalculation. The second was to eliminate the continued threat to your life."

Her words stop you cold. 'Continued threat...' Is she referring to Miguel?

"Lyla, please. Stop messing around. Take me back to Miguel."

Lyla's eyes go blank, no longer the flippant expression you are so used to seeing.

"Request denied. My programming does not allow me to expose you to danger."

"He's going to die if we don't do something Lyla!" You shout at her.

There is a tremor in your hand. Your nerves are shot, exhausted and tired from everything that has happened in the last 24 hours and you can feel the tears pushing up against your throat.

"Isn't it part of your protocol to protect him?!"

"I was built to protect you. My primary directive is to make sure you're safe above all else. That is my purpose."

She recites the words as if she's reading from a manual. It's flat and emotionless in a way you've never known Lyla to be before. Like the line is hardwired into the very core of her basic coding. There are no funny jokes. No sass.

"Lyla, please," you beg.

She doesn't answer you. That same impassive expression as before is still on her face.

"Lyla..." you try again.

You scramble to think of your options. To devise a plan B. But to your horror, you can’t think of anything.

What are you meant to do? You’re not a super genius who can build source code out of thin air that can break the laws of physics. You have no superpowers. No magic that allows you to travel to other dimensions.

The only thing you know how to do is file claim insurance applications. You’re useless.

There's nothing to be done.

It's over.

Your legs give in from the oppressive weight of your realization. You slump to the floor, unable to hold yourself together as the hard wooden floor hits your knees. You fold in two, hunched over the floor and you let the ache inside your chest break and pour over and you cry.

When you come to some time later, you find yourself curled up on the floor. You don't know how long you must've been crying for. But it must’ve been long enough for you to have cried yourself to exhaustion and slipped into unconsciousness.

Turning onto your back, you stare up at the ceiling, shivering from the cold breeze of the evening coming through the window.

Your limbs are cramping from exhaustion. You're dehydrated. Mouth dry and eyes crusted with dried tears. There's a deep-seated headache burrowing into your skull. It's a struggle for you to get up from the floor into a seated position, as you properly take in your surroundings.

At first glance, this version of your apartment looks identical to yours, but on closer inspection there are some stark differences.

By the window, there are black out curtains hanging from the ceiling to allow for sleep-ins during daylight hours.

On your bed, amongst the mountain piles of laundry strewn haphazardly, there are items you don’t recognize. Oversized hoodies that are big enough to fit a bear. Male sweatpants. Socks so big they look like they're Christmas stockings.

Walking over to the kitchen area, there's a distinct lack of coffee. It's been replaced by expired Reese's Peanut Butter cups, milk duds, and Hershey bars that fill every corner of your kitchen cupboards to the brim, stuffed haphazardly on the upper shelves that you could never reach. They have even made their way into your nightstand and stuffed and hidden between books on the bookshelf.

Lyla doesn't even have to tell you where you are. You already know.

This is your home. In your other self's dimension. It belongs to Miguel's nena.

Miguel sent you here, the closest universe he knew of that was identical to yours, so that you could live out your days in safety, without him.

Fucking idiot.

This is not what you wanted.

Days pass.

It's an odd and empty existence, you've beaten the impossible odds and won against the universe itself and made it out alive. Yet you're not sure that anything about this truly qualifies as a victory.

For all you know, the world that is your home may have been destroyed.

After all that's what Stark said: there is no guarantee that just because you left, everything would go back to normal.

And who are you to argue with the (second) smartest man on earth?

There's no way of you knowing what the outcome was, and Lyla refuses to transport you out of this current dimension.

You spend most of your days curled into a ball in bed unable to summon the strength to keep yourself upright or awake for more than an hour at a time, haunted by the knowledge that your escape from your death might have doomed trillions to theirs.

In the hours in between, when that inescapable guilt doesn't eat into your mind, the only thing you are left with is replaying the moments of your life in the past three months.

It flits through your closed eyes like an old film reel and in every one of those moments, Miguel is there, reminding you of what you have now lost.

You feel hollowed out, scraped out and empty like there's nothing inside. The only time you manage to feel anything that resembles an emotion is when you clutch onto whatever piece of oversized clothing that once belonged to Miguel. The only physical trace you have to prove to yourself that he existed and it's not just some fantastical made up story in your mind.

Miguel once told you that anyone who gets lost in the void gets erased. Their very existence scrubbed from the records of the world. Does the fact that you can still remember him mean that he's still there? And if so, how much longer will you be able to mourn him before he's faded entirely in that space. Before your very memory of him and the love you have that sits inside you with nowhere to go is gone too?

Nothing about this feels like a happy ending.

In the first few days, you don't leave the house. You tell yourself that it's better that way. Now that Miguel is no longer here, the idea of walking out in into open streets in broad daylight seems strange to you.

Lyla tries to tempt you with exotic holidays.

“Bali, India! The world is your oyster, we can fly out first class tonight and do an Eat Pray Love for as long as you want to!” Lyla’s voice sings in your ear. "Thailand is lovely this time of the year, barely any tycoons."

Most of the time, you ignore her presence, burying your head into the pillow, pathetically hugging onto one of the oversized shirts that’s been left behind.

Everytime you hope to catch a whiff of the remnant traces of Miguel’s presence there. But there’s nothing. It just smells of stale detergent.

After surviving the end of the world, a lot of things that used to be important seems meaningless to you now.

Alive as you may be, there’s no real purpose for you carved out in this dimension. You don't go to work in the mornings, because the you of this universe died years ago. Showing up at your office at the Chrysler building would likely induce heart attacks amongst your old co-workers.

You could scour Careerbuilder for job ads, but there's a sour pit in your stomach that hugs tightly around your guts everytime you think of the prospect of having to speak to job recruiters.

You don't think you have it in you to lie to some stranger at an interview and pretend that being in front of a white screen poring over excel sheets 8 hours a day is the way you want to spend the rest of your life until you hit retirement.

Besides, rent is not an issue anymore. Nor is money when Lyla is there to take care of you and act as your digital sugar momma. A standing order for any and all bills needed to maintain this home had already been set up long before you arrived.

You feel sorry for Lyla. She's been programmed to take care of your mental and physical well being and you know she is at wit's end with your listless behavior.

She pulls out all the stops. Lyla orders take out for you, delivered right to your door to try to get you to eat. If she had a physical body, you think she would hold you down and force feed you.

But something is wrong with you, because even though every dish is your favorite, rounded up from your favorite restaurants in the city, for the first time in your life since you were born, you no longer have much of an appetite.

You usually only manage mouthfuls just to keep Lyla from constantly nagging, before you shove the take-out box back into the fridge and then crawl back into bed.

Everything tastes bland and grey. Everything around you seems to have lost its color and shine. Was the world around you always this dull?

On the fifth day, there is a familiar baby-pink box with Gladis' logo printed on the lid arriving at your doorstep.

“Surprise!” Lyla announces. “It’s your favorite! I ordered the luxury box with the elderflower lemon flavors, as well as the lychee-raspberry jello!”

You sit down by the table, staring at the beautifully adorned cupcakes in the box. Spirals of white and pink frosting with petals of edible flowers. There's freshly cut strawberries and blackberries and chocolate shavings on op.

Picking one up, you cram the whole cupcake into your mouth, trying to cling onto the memory of that first time when the flavor of lemon zest bursting on your tongue had made you squeal with happiness.

That doesn't happen.

This time, as the sugar hits the top of your mouth, all you can think about is how much you miss him. How things will never be the same without him.

How you'll never get to have him sit next to you, smiling softly as he watches you eat. That you'll never get to see him demolish a cupcake in one bite and leave frosting on his nose.

It doesn't feel the same, you just feel hollow. Wetness spills across your cheeks, and snot clogs your nose and throat. You must look like a looney, ugly crying with your mouth stuffed full of cupcake, barely swallowing.

After that Lyla doesn’t order them for you anymore.

It's morning you think, judging from the bright sun pouring in from the blinds.

Lyla is buzzing near your ear where you've taken off the watch and placed it on the pillow next to you for company.

"You need to get out of the house. You're turning into a social recluse. It's not a good look," she says, as she peers down at you over her pink-tinted glasses.

"How about I get a date for you? Have a fab night out on the town? I have a roller-dex of the top bachelors in New York. I'm happy to hack into their calendar!"

You ignore her, burying your face deeper into the pillow, hugging Miguel's worn hoodie tighter to your chest. You pull the cover over your head, but you can still hear her babble on through the thin separation of fabric.

"What's your type? Oscar Isaac? He’s hot– No, no you're right he's happily married and we don’t wanna be homewreckers here. What about Lenny Kravitz? Doesn't get cooler than Kravitz and he’s long divorced."

"Lyla stop," you groan, poking your head back up above the covers. You just want quiet. Just want to stay here cocooned in this space that is the closest you'll ever get to Miguel for as long as you can remember him, until that too is taken away from you.

"I'm fine. I don't need a date."

"You're not fine though. You've only eaten a box of cupcakes in the last week. You haven't showered and you look like a mess. Your hair is greasier than the BP oil spill off the gulf of Mexico. My purpose is to keep you safe, and that includes your mental and emotional levels, which are... " she stops, throwing up some diagnostics boxes in floating holograms, then makes a face. "Yikes."

She’s doing this on purpose. Talking incessantly, so that she can nag you into doing what she wants. Suddenly you gain newfound sympathy for Miguel. You used to think it was funny when she nagged him and got on his nerves, but now that you're on the end of it, you see how he must’ve suffered when Lyla was in one of these moods with him.

"Will you stop if I step out of the house for a walk," you offer as an olive branch, hoping for a little peace and quiet.

"How long of a walk?"

"Five."

"Minutes?!" Lyla screeches with outrage. "The general recommendation is 150 minutes of weekly exercise, I'm going to need at least an hour's walk from you boss-girl."

"Twenty minutes."

"Forty!"

"Half an hour, or I'm going back to bed and wearing earplugs."

Lyla grins. "Deal".

The streets here look the same as the ones in your dimension, down to the Bodega owned by the old Korean couple around the corner. This version of earth is identical to yours in almost every way you know of.

Except in this New York, instead of Matthew Ellis, a man named Biden who is apparently over 100 years old (give or take a few years) is president.

In this reality, Leonardo Di Caprio apparently won an Oscar, while Amy Adams still hasn't, which is nuts to you.

The Avengers also don't seem to exist here. Though Superheroes still seem prevalent. A group of misfits that refers to themselves as the Fantastic Four seems to dominate the news cycle more often than not.

Ahead of you, the street splits into two paths and you take a corner into the smaller street that you know should cut through to a dog park.

But it doesn’t. Instead of green grass fields and park benches, you end up in a small narrow dead end of a street. Somehow you're lost. Shit. You should've paid more attention.

Looking up, you turn your head left and right to try to make sense of where you could be. You’re just about to pull up google maps, when the flickering light of the one sole streetlamp illuminating this alley catches your attention.

You're 12 blocks from Chinatown, but you recognize this alley even though it shouldn't be here.

From a distance, you spot the familiar red stall. The same small rickety table. The same red cloth draped on top. The same old lady with her abnormally large shiny head, comically large sunglasses and white-blue robe. The same giant sign spelling out: Fortune teller.

Only this time, there's only one folding chair set up in front of it.

She takes one look at you, as you sit down with a look of familiarity in her milky-white eyes.

"Your bad luck is gone," she says.

You should be more surprised that the scam fortune teller from another dimension seemingly remembers the conversation you had with her other self. But it doesn't. You've learned by now that nothing is as it seems.

Random near death accidents are not just due to bad luck. A superhero that repeatedly saves you isn’t just doing it out of sheer goodwill and duty. A starmap is not just a starmap, and you’re willing to bet your life that this fortune teller is not just a fortune teller.

“Who are you?” you ask her.

“Is that of importance to you?”

“Yes.”

She takes off her sunglasses and stares directly into your eyes. Without the obstruction of dark tinted lenses, you can see that it's not glaucoma causing the whiteness in her pupils. In her eyes, there are galaxies, millions of tiny dots of glowing stars, endless and mesmerizing as you stare back into them.

"My name is Ulana. I’m a Watcher. My role is to observe the Multiverse from the Nexus of all realities.”

There’s no longer that harmless demeanor and friendly smile that makes you drop your guard. She holds herself with reverence as she speaks, with the aura of the divine.

“Does that mean you are able to observe every reality in this moment?” you ask.

“Yes.”

The image of your New York with its pink cracked sky and the chaos you left it in crowds your vision.

"Can you tell me what happened to my old world after I left? Is it still there?"

"Your old home is intact and safe."

You let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you had been holding all this time.

Thank god.

Relieved tears spill from your cheeks. Somehow you haven't single-handedly caused the destruction and death of whole worlds and countless lives.

Even if you can never go back there, that place will always be your home, and your chest warms at the thought that even without you it will always still be there.

You take a moment to gather yourself, to wipe the errant tears that are welling up with the back of your hand.

Then you take a deep calming breath before you ask her the question that has been plaguing your mind since you arrived in this reality.

"Is Miguel still alive in the void?" you ask her.

"Your husband is still alive. But he doesn't have much time left. He's fading."

Your fingers curl into fists on top of your knees, "How do I save him?"

"I couldn't tell you.” She shakes her head sadly. "My kind is not allowed to intervene. We are only meant to observe the ongoings of the universes. I've already meddled too much.”

Ducking down, she reaches under her desk, sorting through the pile of junk paper, before she leans back up over the table.

"This is the only help I can give you," she says, reaching over to place something into your hands.

You look down to see a familiar bright yellow Star Map.

"He'll be home this time," she tells you.

You're standing on the doorsteps of the old brownstone on 177A Bleecker Street, staring up at the old ornate wooden front doors.

Unlike last time you were here, there's no hesitation in you anymore. It doesn't matter that you've come alone with no other superhero to validate your mad and fantastical story about the Cosmos that was out to kill you.

You don't care if Strange thinks you're a random crazy from the streets.

If he doesn't believe you, then you'll make him believe you. If he tries to have you hauled out, you'll kick and drag and scream at the top of your lungs, and chain yourself to his front door if that's what it takes.

You bring your hand to the door knocker and tap it three times. Then you wait.

Nothing.

Didn't the fortune teller say he was going to be home this time?

Goddamnit, was she a scam after all? What kind of name is Ulana for a celestial being anyhow? Did you end up wasting another ten dollars?

You grit your teeth and step forward again, grabbing the door knocker to pound it down against the front door, even harder this time and you don’t stop at one or two, you keep slamming it down fervently.

Mid-knock, the door creaks, swinging open, as an exasperated voice greets you.

"Yes, yes, yes. I'm coming. There's no need to knock that aggressively, I'm not going to come to the door any fast–"

He stops mid-sentence as he looks at you. For a man you've never met, Dr. Strange's eyes go wide at the sight of you standing on his doorsteps. His eyes are filled with the disbelief of a man who's seen a ghost.

"You're alive," he says.

“Sit down and make yourself comfortable,” Strange says as he hurriedly pulls out a chair by the old oak table in his dining room.

“I’ll make us some tea,” he says.

He waves his cape with a dramatic flare in the empty space, and from a distance you hear a small click, before you realize that he must’ve used magic to put on the kettle.

For someone that’s supposed to be a sorcerer, you don’t know why the hell he bothers having a kettle. Seems a bit redundant, couldn’t he just use magic to instantly heat water?

You sit down as instructed, hands folded in your lap as you try not to fidget.

There’s a prolonged and uncomfortable silence as you both wait for the water to boil.

Strange opens then closes his mouth, as if he’s unsure of who should speak first. In the end though, he doesn’t say anything at all, he just drums his fingers impatiently on the wooden surface as he smiles politely but awkwardly at you. Across the room, the water starts simmering to a boil.

This wasn’t what you had expected. You had counted on him to try to kick you out and you having to make a passionate plea for him to listen to you. Instead he’d opened the door and insisted on inviting you in and now the two of you are drowning in a sea of uncomfortable silence.

There’s a tinny whistle from the kettle, and Strange darts up from the chair, as if the interruption was a godsend. He rushes over to pick it up, before walking back to the table with it at a much slower pace.

Then he stands next to you, tilting the snout of the kettle into your small tea cup.

Strange stares intently at your face as he pours the boiling water into the cup. So focused on you that he doesn't pay any attention to the level of the hot water, until it spills over the rim and onto the table surface below. Then he seemingly snaps himself out of it.

"Shit! Sorry," Strange begins. He wipes up the spillage with his robe, even though there are perfectly good paper towels behind him, even though he could’ve just used magic to make it vanish in the blink of an eye.

"You look exactly like her," he says, then he stops himself.

Strange considers the statement and does a curt little nod at himself as if berating himself for how stupid that comment sounded. "Which of course you do. You are her, just… from another dimension."

From your time with Miguel, you’ve been able to glean from his childish rants about the man’s “ugly” and “useless” and “impractical” cape that there’s a hostility there towards Strange that goes beyond just Miguel being Miguel.

Judging from the guilt in this man’s eyes as he looks at you from across the table, you can guess that there is a complicated history between Strange and Miguel and you.

“Did you know me?” you ask.

“Yeah, we were friends. Good friends,” Strange corrects himself. Then a sadness seeps into his eyes as he stops wiping the table and pulls back his robe close to his body. “Although I supposed I wasn’t a great friend to you near the end of things.”

He places the cup down on the table in front of you, the rising steam wafts through the air, smelling of mint and honey as he drags out the chair and sits himself next to you.

"Why don't you tell me everything from the start," Strange asks you.

So you do. You tell him of that first day when you fell out of the Chrysler building and was saved by Miguel. Tell him about how Miguel saved you again and again and how you tried to trap him with cookies and how you fell out of the Chrysler building a second time on purpose, which makes Strange laugh that sounds fond and warm.

You tell him of the void, the fortune teller, the Avengers and everything in between, and how despite surviving all of that Miguel had exiled himself to the void and sent you here by yourself, with each event you tell him his eyes grow sadder.

When you're done, Strange nods solemnly. He picks up his cup and takes a small sip of his tea to buy himself time to gather his thoughts. Then he finally speaks again. "What can I do to help?"

"Miguel is still in the void. I need your help to send me there so I can get him back."

Strange frowns, then goes entirely quiet as he stares out of the window in deliberation. It takes several moments before he speaks again.

"The void is a dangerous place, stay too long and you will be erased from existence. If you go in you may not be able to find your way out and I wouldn’t be able to help you from here."

“That’s fine, I just need your help to get there” you say.

He sets down his cup as he continues. "I can’t in good conscience send you back out there. I've already broken my promise to keep you safe once."

Frustration brims in your chest. As flattered as you are over Strange’s concern over your safety, you bristle at the fact that there seems to be none extended to Miguel’s. Every second you spend here is another second wasted.

“Miguel is there. If I don’t save him, he’s going to be erased from existence.”

That doesn’t seem to move the doctor in the slightest.

“For Miguel, his own life is a small price to pay in exchange for yours. He’d sacrifice the whole world for you to live.”

“That’s not a choice for him to make.”

Strange scratches his thumb over his bearded jaw, as if he's trying to figure out how to solve a puzzle, before speaking again.

"Right now with Miguel gone, the volatile cosmic energy surrounding you is stabilized. The version of you in this universe died and is viewing your presence as an equivalent exchange. You could stay here. You'd be safe. Miguel would've known that. That's probably why he sent you here.”

"I don't want to stay here if Miguel isn't here," you counter.

Leaning back in his chair, Strange up at the ceiling in deep thought.

"It's risky, if I sent you there, you may not even be able to find him. He might not even have his physical shape anymore, he’s been there too long by now."

His head ducks back down as he looks at your face, observing you for long moments.

You don't know what it is he sees, but a small amused smile quirks at his lip as he shakes his head again.

"But... I think you already know the risks and nothing I can say will dissuade you will it?" he says.

You nod.

It's not that you've stopped being scared of the void. It's not that the very thought of it doesn't fill your stomach with a cold dread. It's that Miguel is there, and there is no risk you're not willing to take to have the chance to see him again.

You square your chest and confidence swells inside you with your answer.

"Send me there."

~ Next Issue

Credit and Dedication: We're almost there guys! Next issue is going to be the final one. Thanks to everyone who has been with me on this ride! I cannot wait to share the final conclusion with you all.

Special thank you (as always) go out to my bestie: @thirstworldproblemss who is a big reason this story even lifted off the ground in the first place.

Big BIG BIGGEST thanks to my muse @guruan who has gifted me with so much inspiration be it thirsty twitter art of our favorite rude spider or her own insanely gorgeous art. Have you seen this heartbreaking beauty?!

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fi #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse #marvel mcu #marvel #miguel ohara fic #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderverse fanfiction

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legitalicat · 27 days

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we can't be friends - (modern!Aemond Targaryen x reader)

AN: Thank you all for the votes!! I felt very inspired by we can't be friends by Ariana Grande and my brain would not let this go.

Summary: Friends to lovers, lovers to nothing. No words, no explanations. The younger brother of her best friend left behind a void.

CW: angst, happy ending though, pining, Aemond who doesn't like labels, Helaena's best friend so reader is older than him by about two years, drunken mess Aemond.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader, Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers (kinda)

Word count: 2k

“Come on, Hel. It’s not like we were ever friends,” she said to her, now, best friend.

It was a lie that burned like whiskey. They had been friends, best friends, for years. It was just easier to say that to Helaena than to admit what they actually shared. It was easier to deny she had any love for him, platonic or otherwise, while she stared at him with his arm draped around another woman.

This is ridiculous, she thought to herself. It was. They had never said they were really anything. All Aemond would ever commit to was letting people draw their own conclusions. He merely provided the basis of a claim and everything else was never true or false. It simply was.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Helaena said quietly when they sat back down. This party was a low-key thing, just a group of fifteen or so people that Aegon invited over to try his new home brew.

“You don’t get it, okay,” Y/N whispered angrily. It was something nobody ever did with Helaena. The sweet, creature obsessed, silver haired girl was always a beacon of light among her friends and family, earning her the respect to not be spoken to out of anger.

“I told you not to get involved. Aegon of all people told you not to get involved,” Helaena whispered to her. “Fuck, Y/N, you’ve been my friend for damn near twenty years, you know him, you knew how he was.”

No, I didn’t, she couldn’t help but think. It was true that Aemond definitely did not ever call her his girlfriend. But he never corrected her when she referred to herself as such, or if she called him her boyfriend. They had gone on over a hundred dates in the four years they spent together, as he reminded her on their last date. Hell, they had even rescued a dog when she unofficially moved in.

That’s what really bothered her. They were friends, they were more, and now he was letting this woman talk about his apartment that Y/N made a proper home and their dog Vhagar as though Y/N had never existed.

She could hear the woman, who she thinks was named Alys, talk about Vhagar. And Aemond just let her, even though Y/N could tell by the way his jaw tightened and nostrils flared that he was tired of her.

“This dog is just so lazy, all she ever wants to do is lay on the ground,” Alys said to the people who were bothering to listen.

“No, she wants to be on the couch, you vapid cunt,” Y/N said, meaning it to be a quiet murmur and instead saying it loud enough to be heard by Aemond.

He shifted in his seat, subtly removing his hold on Alys’ shoulder. His arm was still on the couch behind her, but there was no longer a physical connection. It wasn’t intentional, but nothing except how he looked at Y/N.

“Excuse you?” Alys asked.

“She’s an old dog. She was old when Aemond and I brought her home and that was two years ago. When she isn’t playing outside or eating all she wants is to lay on the couch or in bed with her people,” Y/N said to her. Her eyes moved between Aemond’s amused expression and Alys’ shocked one.

There was a crushing weight in her chest when Aemond looked at her. It wasn’t a secret that they had been…well whatever they were. They had attended every party Aegon threw, every academic ceremony Helaena was honored at, every work party his family had forced him to attend as a couple. Everyone knew.

Until four months ago when she stopped showing up. When her things started slowly disappearing from his apartment, and he slowly disappeared from her online life. Nobody knew what happened. All anyone knew was that once they were Aemond and Y/N, an entity, now they were Aemond and Y/N, two people.

His eyes, one a brilliant violet and one a scarred, cloudy blue, raked over her face. She looked at him and she wondered if it burned him the way it burned her. She felt the dread fueled flames licking their way through her heart in a painful desperation.

“I’ll see you later, Hel,” Y/N said to her, never once tearing her eyes from Aemond as she stood up. It was only when she saw him begin to lean forward, towards her, that found the motive to look away and walk out of the house.

The days following the party was a dredge through life. Y/N couldn’t sleep, her every sleeping moment consumed by him and the life they had together. Her pain and grief was pressing down on her heart. An Aemond sized void could be felt in the smallest moments.

When she was in the shower, her fingers would brush over her shoulder in such a way she could forget he wasn’t the one washing her. She would be reading on the couch and for a moment, she swore she could smell his cologne. Her favorite Chinese restaurant was his favorite Chinese restaurant, and when she ate their food she was taken back to their fourth date.

Their fourth date. He took her to a car show, the summer heat driving them to get ice cream. When the burning afternoon chilled into a twilight sky, he took her to the best Chinese buffet around. Their talking had lasted for hours as though they forgot that they had known each other for near as long as she’s known Helaena. She was seven when she first stepped foot into the Targaryen residence, Aemond being five. It wasn’t until he was twenty that he stopped seeing her as his sister’s best friend and she became more.

It was that date that he kissed her for the first time. A kiss that melted into twenty. It shattered her universe and fixed every part of her all at once.

She swore that night she could’ve spent more time kissing him than anything else. If she had it her way, those stupid butterflies in her stomach would have never gone away. Every kiss, from the ones that brushed against her skin like a feather blowing in the wind to the ones that made her forget how to stay standing, was something she would’ve given a thousand lifetimes to keep.

It had been seven months since their dissolution when he showed up at her doorstep. It was well past midnight when his knocks echoed off of every wall and she opened the door for no other reason than to avoid her neighbors calling the cops. He reeked of Aegon’s home brews, swaying slightly with his every breath. She had never seen him look such a mess. His hair, where every long, silver strand normally laid in perfect unison, moving like a curtain in every step, had knots throughout. Both eyes teary, his cheeks splotched red.

“What is it?” she whispered to him. Aemond was never sloppy. His every moment was perfectly calculated. Such displays were sure to embarrass him whenever he lost control, but she truly believed he was too drunk.

“Come home, baby,” he said as he leaned against the door frame.

“I am home,” she told him sharply.

“No, you aren’t. You’re not in our bed with Vhagar at your feet. You’re not wrapped in my arms all night. You’re not home.” His voice held a pitiful desperation, it’s strength wavering after every word.

“Alys is. Go home to her,” she said, beginning to shut the door in his face. He put his hand on it, pushing it open so as to not break his view of her.

“Baby,” he whispered, begged.

“I made my choice, you made yours,” she reminded him.

“That’s it, then? You decide to walk away and we don’t even get to have a conversation? We’re not even friends?” The tears that had built up in his eyes slid freely down his cheeks, staining his skin.

“We can’t be friends!” she shouted at him. “You think I didn’t want to just go back? To go back to when you were my best friend’s nerdy little brother who spent more time in his room than should be allowed? To go back to before I was in love with you?”

“Then why say no?!” he shouted at her.

Only someone who didn’t know him would confuse it for anger. It was the same desperate passion that a man truly in love would hold, like when The Duke confessed his passions for Daphne in Bridgerton. His words vibrated through her body. If his kiss could fix every part of her, his pathetic pining for her could break her.

“You couldn’t even call me your girlfriend and you expect me to believe you were truly ready to marry me?” she whispered.

He stepped past the threshold of the apartment. His hands found the side of her face, cupping it gently. His hands were softer than she thought they would be the first time he touched her. He rode a motorcycle, played baseball in high school. His hands should’ve been, she thought, covered in rough calluses. But they always felt soft, holding her with the gentleness of love.

“What do I need to do?” he asked her. “Should I hire a sky writer to let the whole of the city know my heart is yours? Maybe sing a god awful cover of whatever clichéd love song is circulating on the radio and dedicate to you?”

She tried to push his hands away. At least, she told herself it was an actual try. Her hands gripped his wrists as she gave a feeble shove against his weight. Yet, he somehow held her even more firmly without ever increasing the force behind his grasp.

“Perhaps if I blind myself entirely, right here and now? Sacrifice my only good eye so that you know your face is the last beautiful thing I will ever gaze upon?”

He leaned in and allowed his lips to ghost over her own. The barely existent touch set a fire ablaze in her soul, one that was only fanned as his lips moved across her face. The pressure increasing with each touch until he reached her lips again in a bruising kiss.

Aemond’s tears slipped between their lips, the saltiness of them mingling with the bitterness of the homemade wine he had drank before coming. His left hand moved from her face to pathetically grab at her side, then her hip, trying to pull her into him. Any space between them was unacceptable as they kissed.

He pulled away only when they needed to breathe. But he never moved his hands. He never gave her the chance to back away from him.

“Marry me and I will yell from the Hightower that I am the husband of the most ethereal of women. That she is one of beauty unheard of in centuries. That she is kind enough to do in silence what most would boast about. That she is one who brings a warmth into every room she enters that is enough to melt the heart of a man like me,” he said to her.

She glanced between his eyes and lips. She had dreamt of such a moment for years. It was like he had looked into her heart and found exactly what she yearned for.

“What about Alys?” she whispered.

“A woman who works with me. She owed me a favor. Never spoke to her outside of work until about thirty minutes before that party to tell her the most basic information she needed. Haven’t spoken to her since,” he said. “The only thing that’s in our way is your disbelief I would be proud to be your husband.”

In seconds, she kissed him. She needed their existence to become one. Seven months without him. Seven months where all she wanted was the one thing she felt she would never truly have. Seven months in which she waited for his love.

His right hand finally left her face, searching for her left hand. Without hesitation, he intertwined their fingers. They couldn’t be friends, but he wouldn’t stop until he was her husband.

#dividers by benkeibear #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader

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imaginecolby · 11 months

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my favorite pillow || c.b.

summary: after an exceptionally long day, you are beyond tired and all you want is to cuddle with your boyfriend.

requested by anonymous.

“today has been insane, i cant wait to come home to you :(“ you text colby. you and him had been apart all day, tending to your necessary work tasks, running errands, and going to meetings. it was hectic as hell, and you couldn’t wait for the day to be over.

“i may be getting home a little earlier than you, so i’ll be sure to have dinner ready for you.” colby text back.

“ah, you’re perfect.” you smiled as you hit send on your reply. you focused your attention back to work, and anxiously awaited for the end of the day.

once you completed all your tasks, and were finally able to go home. you practically ran out to your car to head home. by the time you arrived, colby had dinner set up for the two of you, paired with glasses of wine and ambient lighting.

“mmm, smells good.” you said with a smile as you walked into the dining room.

“perfect timing. everything just got here.” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. you set your bags in the kitchen and sat down with colby at the dining room table. you and him talked about your days, complaining how busy you both were and how exhausting the day had been.

after dinner, you both made your way to your bedroom, fully unwinding from the day. you’d both undressed and stepped into the shower together, the warm water washing the stress from your shoulders. you stood facing the water as colby stood behind you, massaging the soapy loofa across your back, shoulders, and arms. your eyes closed as a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, nothing but the sound of the running water keeping you company. you swayed back and forth a bit, almost falling asleep.

once you were out of the shower and dressed in your pj’s, you and colby climbed into bed. you nuzzled into his side, wrapping your arm around his stomach.

“mmm, my favorite pillow.” you smiled, laying on his chest. you felt him laugh as he wrapped an arm around you and began searching for a movie to watch.

“glad i can be of service.” he laughed, rubbing your back. you laid there quietly as the movie started, you barely able to hold your eyes open for most of it. everytime colby would move, even just slightly, you would whine, complaining about how he was disturbing your sleep.

“babe, you gotta let me up. i have to go to the bathroom.” he laughed, pushing you off his chest.

“ugh, fine.” you groaned. you sat up, dazed and confused, a small pout pulling on your lip while you waited for colby to come back from the bathroom. as soon as you saw him walk out of the door, you held you arms up and made grabby hands at him. he huffed a small laugh, and climbed back into bed. he repositioned himself in the same position he was in, and you laid back down with him.

“are you done pouting?” he teased.

“very much so.” you laughed, nuzzling deeper into his side. you heard him laugh again as you started to fall asleep again. colby laid as still as he could beneath you to allow you to sleep comfortably. that night ended up being one of the best nights of sleep you’d ever had, cuddling as closely as you could with the love of your life. it was perfect.

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock x reader

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seonghwaddict · 9 months

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in your arms — choi san

request by @sankatchu. “Just saw ur seonghwa angst and it absolutely destroyed my heart but since I am a wreck for angst could you write the most heart breaking angst (with a happy ending bc as much as I love it I can’t deal with no comfort 😍) for my man sannn <3 ?”

pairing. choi san x reader. genre. heavy angst, comfort. warnings. argument, car crash, injury description, a lot of crying, hospitalisation, pet name (my love). wc. 1117 words. (i would usually write 1.1k but this was too cute sorry not sorry).

[ listening to . . . ] lovememore. by dosii.

　　　　　　　　　main masterlist

your whole world shattered within a day and there’s nothing you’ll regret more than letting it happen. it was a day like any other, but soon enough small irritations that accumulated over the course of months finally snapped and caused an argument with your boyfriend and the love of your life, choi san.

the relationship you two had was always very loving and despite being together for nearly a year, you were proud to say you never had any serious fights with him. until today, you supposed. there wasn’t really a point to the argument but you figured he must’ve been stressed from work—comebacks were always a bit hectic—and neither of you had been getting much sleep.

“just stop being so selfish and so self-righteous and leave me be for a seco-”

“get out.”

his anger faltered for just a moment before it was back, much more visible than before; his shoulders tensed and his fists clenched. “what?”

“i said get out. you said you wanted me to let you be, so leave. get out and come back when you’re ready to talk this through properly.”

The subject of it didn’t really matter anyway and you couldn’t even remember everything that was said, just the way your heart shattered when he walked out of your apartment with a slam of the front door behind him. even though the sadness of it all hit you as soon as he was gone, your rage never settled. how dare he talk to you so harshly? san was a painfully soft man—gentle words and tender touches. you’d never seen him like that.

san wasn’t sure where to go at first, but soon enough he was in his car, driving down the nearly empty streets at one in the morning and heading to the dorms he shared with his members. buildings rushed past him and soon enough his rigid posture relaxed, his hands on the steering wheel loosening as he sighed deeply. he contemplated turning the car around to go back and apologise, but before he could he felt the air being knocked out of his lungs as the screech of tired ripped through the air.

for a moment everything was silent, san’s ears ringing as he slowly started to figure out his bearings. the car was flipped sideways as his left shoulder was pressed against the shattered glass of the window and the concrete of the ground. his thoughts were slow, a sluggish attempt to keep him awake as he tried to move his limbs. he ignored any injuries he had, his hand reaching for his very cracked phone as he called the first person that came to mind. you.

but you didn’t pick up.

so he left you a voicemail, the high pitch of sirens already approaching in the background. with a final “i love you” he ended the message, coughing just after as he clicked his seatbelt off and slumped against the ground. after a few more breaths, he let his eyes close.

you were positively hysterical once you finally listened to the voicemail, hot tears running down your cheeks as you rushed to the nearest hospital that they must’ve taken him to. after talking to the receptionist and figuring out where his room was, you burst inside the room and stopped in your tracks.

his members were there, looking pale scattered around the room in varying states of distress, but you barely registered them as your heart sank. there were a few cuts and bruises blossoming on the sharp features of his face, a small plaster taped on his forehead. his left shoulder was wrapped in bandages as well as his right wrist. someone hugged you tightly as they cried into your shoulder, you didn’t really care who, though you figured it was wooyoung judging by the familiar smell, but your eyes stayed fixated on the unconscious, fragile body of san, the monitor next to him beeping at a steady pace.

once he let go of you and told you they had to leave for schedules since the company didn’t want fans to worry too much, you took some tentative steps to the hospital bed. even though he looked quite beaten up, he still had that tenderness about him. with a frown and small furrow to your eyebrows, you let your fingers trace of the scratched on his hand.

before you knew it, you were sitting on chair you pulled next to the bed, holding onto his hand for dear life as you laid your head on his lap, not caring that your tears were staining the pristine white blanket. eventually, you fell asleep like that.

the next morning you stirred awake, a familiar hand brushing through your hair. a small noise leaving your lips as you turned your head and looked up. suddenly you had the energy of five redbulls as you jumped up and embraced him tightly, ignoring the fact you were probably suffocating him as tears began streaming again.

“i’m s-so so sorry, are you okay?” you told him through sobs and sniffles, “god, i’m so stupid and you’re right, i’m selfish and i should’ve just shut up, t-this is all my fault.”

san lifted his right hand to pat your arm gently before grasping it and pulling you away from him with the same slowness. as your tearful eyes looked into his strikingly soft ones, his hand moved so he could wipe away your tears. “i’m okay, none of this is your fault. i never meant a single word i said, you’re not selfish and fuck i would never want you to shut up. i should be the one apologising, my love.”

you lips trembled as you nodded slowly. “b-but if i never made you leave this wouldn’t have happened, it is my fault.”

“whatever happened, happened. please, don’t beat yourself up over this.” he pulled you close to him and his lips pressed heartfelt kisses to your hair as you buried your face in his uninjured shoulder, one on the nape of your neck and the other rubbing your back. “it’s okay, i’m okay, love.”

“i should be the one comforting you.”

he chuckled and moved his hand from your neck to your cheek, guiding you to face him before leaning up to press his lips against yours. it was a firm kiss, wordless reassurance that he knew you needed as you melted against him and pressed yourself closer. his lips left yours too soon for your liking as he pressed more fluttering kisses on your cheeks, stopping your tears in the tracks, leaning back as he pressed one last kiss to the tip of your nose.

“i already find comfort in your arms.”

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] this ended up being a lot sadder than i intended but i hope you like it sankatchu!! writing angst is honestly so much fun but sometimes my heart can’t take it

　　[ network ... ] @cromernet @blankjournal

　　[ perm taglist ... ] @ad0rechuu @sankatchu

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pantherxrogers · 10 months

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Dating Luca (The Bear Headcanon)

Content warnings: kinda smutty 18+ only, explicit language, there's fluff too :)

A/N: Idc how much screen time Luca got, he has a whole personality in my head LMAO 😩 I hope you guys enjoy more Luca content! This is super short, but I had so much fun writing it 😄 My requests are wide open, so let me know what you'd like to see next! <3 If you liked this, please like/reblog! It means a lot! 😘

Summary: A short headcanon of what I imagine it'd be like to date our fav pastry chef 🥰

Let’s start with the fluffffff 😊

I feel like most of the reason we all love Luca (aside from the fact that Will Poulter plays him) is that he’s so gentle (but have you guys heard the term Stern Brunch Daddy?)

Let’s say you’re not very good at baking, doesn’t matter because he’s fully committed to teaching you. He will literally start with something as basic as baking a cookie from scratch and later making more complex desserts. It doesn’t even matter how long it takes because he just enjoys being around you :’)

Speaking of spending time together, Luca’s love language is defffff quality time.

When he spoke about learning from the chef who was much better than him (Carmy??) it made me think about how much he would enjoy just being around the person he loves. Whether you’re baking, watching a movie, or even napping together, the pair of you are like magnets.

He shares his love of food with you every chance he gets (he wants to combine two of his greatest loves 😭)

Going out to dinner with a chef is always a unique experience, but no matter what he’s letting you choose the restaurant (if he has to choose he'll just wind up cooking something for you at home since he can make it better anyways)

Thinking about how he’d definitely bake a birthday cake for you, spending hours on it because it needs to be perfect 😪 (he could bake a cake in his sleep but this isn’t just ANY cake)

He asks you to sample everything whenever he's coming up with a new menu item, he trusts your judgement and knows you'll be honest with him

When he’s working late, he tells you not to wait up for him (much to your displeasure) but every morning, you wake up to a new dessert in the fridge 🥺

He’s been doing it since you moved in together just because he knows it makes you smile (he’ll even leave little notes behind, sometimes silly, sometimes super sappy) you eat it up regardless

Now for the smutty stuff 😈

In the beginning of your relationship, Luca is SUUUPER shy. Like to the point that you have to literally spell it out that you want him to make a move.

Like Carmy, he doesn’t really have much time for socializing, so he might miss the cues that you throw at him.

The first time Luca spends the night at your apartment, he’s sure he’s going to pass out on like three different occasions

1. When you open the door, you’re wearing a satin robe that leaves very little to the imagination (He’s hard before he even sits down)

2. You’re baking together in the kitchen, taking every opportunity to bend over and "grab a mixing bowl", flashing your lacy thong in the process.

3. When you move into your bedroom because you’re getting “tired”, you ask him to unhook your bra for you, making a show of sliding the robe down your shoulders. And whoops! It just so happens to fall to the floor. 🤗

By that point, you’re done with the subliminals, pushing your ass back, feeling him straining against his jeans. For a moment, he doesn’t know what to do with his hands (it’d be adorable if you weren’t painfully horny rn)

“Luca, you can touch my boobs if you want to, I swear I won’t mind,” you playfully tease him, shifting into a sigh when his hands immediately connect with your sensitive nipples.

That’s actually how the both of you found out that manhandling is one of the quickest ways to turn you on

Later in your relationship, he makes a show of tapping your ass (when it’s appropriate of course)

He casually shows his strength a lot because he knows it gets you going (thinking of him picking up those packs of flour 😓)

Both of you love the soft moments too. He’s a passionate lover, so slow, gentle sex is always amazing

Back to our regularly scheduled, fluffy programming 😋

Overall, I see Luca as a sweet, loyal boyfriend. The way he spoke about the chef he shadowed (again, do we think it was Carmy??) it seems like he really values the close relationships in his life

Of course, he values his relationship with you the most, always wanting to be the best version of himself for you (and vice versa) 🥰

Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@wakandamama @wakandama2 @blowmymbackout @nolita-fairytale @douceurrrr @mercang @eddiemunsonreader @cryobabyy @superhoeva @kdoxkeic

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #will poulter fanfiction #will poulter #will poulter fanfic #will poulter x reader #will poulter smut #will poulter imagine #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #𓆩 ♡ 𓆪 ⊹ ˚˖⋆｡ ra ra fics

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gyu-effect · 4 months

Note

Actually in line with my request for advice on relationships, if your requests are open, may I please request something sweet involving getting back together after a breakup, with a plan to make things work - so that I can cry and enjoy the fictional delusion instead? Dealers choice on which member

PAIRING || Minghao x Female Reader

GENRES || Angst

WARNINGS || none

WORD COUNT || 0.6k

A/N || i'm genuinely so sorry this took me so much time TT i really thought i would be able to do it quickly but i really wanted to answer your other ask as nicely as i could and publish this at the same time so thats why it took me so much time TT im so so sorry but i hope you enjoy this. i chose minghao cus idk...he seemed to resemble your ex and i hope this is to your liking

TAGLIST || @romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped @ashkuuuu @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @aaniag @sea-moon-star @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae @amethyistheart @mirxzii [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

[21:13]

“you came.”

that was the first words that came out of your boyfriend, no ex boyfriend’s lips. no hi, no hello, no how are you doing. just…’you came’, straight to the point.

but you were used to that. you were used to xu minghao being straightforward and clear cut about what he wanted and what he was doing. and surprisingly, that was exactly what you loved about him.

or at least, had loved about him.

but now as you stared back at him resolutely, balling your hands into a fist as it snowed around the two of you, you could feel your entire will power crumbling as he looked at you with regret.

no, no, y/n! you promised yourself-

“i- i thought you might not-”

“yeah i wasn’t going to.” you cut him off before he could complete his sentence. it was a lie, a very blatant lie but it was better to say that than for him to see the tears that were now beginning to sting your eyes.

“right.” he muttered, looking crestfallen. for the first time since you had met him, you noticed that he looked thinner than he used to be, with dark circles underneath his eyes. he almost looked like he had been going through a rough time himself. and somehow that made your heart clench more painfully. “i deserve that. i’m sorry.”

“i wasn’t-”

“y/n.” he cut you off, taking a step closer to you. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”

you gulped. “why are you sorry?”

tentatively, minghao reached out for your hands and you let him take them, letting the wall you had managed to build crumble away. “i’m sorry because- because it’s my fault that we broke up. i acted so nonchalantly in the relationship-”

“what do you want?” you asked, your voice now trembling very obviously. you were tired of pretending around him, tired of pretending that you were fine about the break up when in reality it had torn you apart.

minghao’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of your glossy eyes and he moved in even more closer. “when i was away from you, i realised that-” he gulped, “i realised that i- i really missed you. and i missed how much you always took care of me and how you were always beside me. i missed you so much, y/n.”

“why now?” you whispered, causing minghao to shake his head, as he gently brushed away the tear that had fallen down your cheek. “why now, hao? it- it hurt me so much, you know.”

“i- i know, love. i’m so, so sorry. i just didn’t have the courage after that…i’m sorry i’m such a coward.” saying that he took a step back, dropping your hands. “and i’ll understand and respect your decision if you want me to stay away from you. but y/n, i just wanted to tell you that…i love you. i really, really love you. i’ve hurt you and i’ve broken your heart and i’ll- i’ll try my level best to make up for everything i’ve done and i really love you so much y/n. but i understand if you don’t want to get back with me-”

even before he could complete his sentence, you flung your arms around his neck, engulfing him in a hug. minghao immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in even more closer as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, tears flowing down freely now.

“you idiot. you idiot.” you sobbed. “i hate you, hate you, hate you so much! i loved you so much hao, i love you so much.”

“i’m sorry.” he muttered, gently rubbing circles on your back. “i’m so sorry love.” then gently pulling you back slightly so that you could see each other, he said, “i’ll never let you go now. i promise.” he looked at you with such sincere eyes that you found yourself believing all his words. “you better.”

#╼ 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒 #╼ [𝟐𝟏:𝟏𝟑]#╼ 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 #caratlibrary #minghao x reader #xu minghao x reader #the8 x reader #seventeen x reader #minghao angst #minghao fluff #xu minghao angst #xu minghao fluff #the8 fluff #the8 angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt angst

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Text

“Eds. What are you doing.”

Steve wasn’t really asking him. He could see very well what he was trying to do.

He was trying to hide an amused smile.

They’d moved into the apartment less than two hours ago and Eddie’s one singular task was to set up their bed so they could sleep in it tonight.

Steve figured that would be relatively easy.

He was clearly mistaken.

“I can feel you laughing. Silent laughing is still laughing.”

“Not laughing. Just wondering how long you’ve been trying to starfish the sheet onto the bed.”

Eddie was indeed starfished across their bed, arms and legs spread out with the fitted sheet wrapped around his hands and feet. He’d been trying this method for maybe 20 minutes after the last attempt of one corner at a time didn’t work.

“Too long. Help.”

Steve came over and put his hand on Eddie’s back, rubbing it up and down his spine.

“You could’ve just asked me for help. I didn’t think you could actually get this sheet on by yourself. It’s a king sized bed, baby.”

Eddie glared at him over his shoulder.

“I take it back. You sleep on the couch. I sleep right here on my unfitted sheet in my king sized bed.”

Steve laughed. He couldn’t help it. Eddie was so fucking cute when he had to do household chores. It wasn’t that he couldn’t either, he just liked to pretend he couldn’t so Steve would help him.

Steve was onto him, but he loved it.

Loved doing everything together, no matter what it was.

“C’mon. I’ll help. It’ll be easy if we both do it.”

“Nope. This is the bed now. We live like this.”

“What do you want me to do to get you up?”

This was all part of the game.

Eddie seemed to think about it for a moment and Steve couldn’t help the fond smile he was giving the back of Eddie’s overdramatic head.

“Two kisses and a back massage later. Non-negotiable.”

“How about one kiss now, one when we’re done, and I give you a back massage tomorrow night too?”

Eddie squinted at him, half his face still buried in the sheet below him.

“Why two massages?”

“Because I love you?”

“Can’t fool me, Harrington. What have you done?”

“I may have let Jonathan and Argyle off the hook for helping unpack tomorrow so we’ve got a long day on our own.”

“Why would you do that Steven?”

“Because they’ve helped enough Edward.”

They glared at each other for a moment before Eddie sighed and turned to hide his face back in the sheet.

“Fine.”

Steve smirked.

“What was that?”

“I said fine!”

Eddie got up, received his first kiss, and they got the sheet on the bed in less than five minutes.

Steve knew better than to say anything about how teamwork made the job easier or that he told him so.

Eddie got his second kiss and then stripped so he could immediately get in the shower.

“Baby, it’s only 7:00. We haven’t even had dinner.”

“Too tired. Too sore. Come rub my back.”

Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

“Fine. I’ll order pizza when we’re done.”

“This is why I love you.”

“Uh huh.”

“That and the amazing blowjob you’re gonna give me after the back massage.”

Eddie disappeared in the bathroom before Steve could respond, but he didn’t need to.

He’d give Eddie whatever he wanted.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #domestic fluff #okay last one #seriously I got other shit to write #this was just clearing out the cobwebs

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softtdaisy · 4 months

Text

🌲 save us for later l pierre gasly

summary. Christmas could have been great. if pierre didn't forget to tell his parents you broke. and you didn't have to pretend you were still together.

words count. 2,434

a/n. ok I'm totally obsessed with this one and I really hope you will love it as much as I do🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

“I can’t believe you did that.”

You heard Pierre sigh by your side, like he was already tired of this situation.

Like it wasn’t his fault if you were there today. What a joke.

“You don’t even try to understand.” he added, still focused on the road to not look at you. You noticed he was gripping the wheel so hard his joints were white. Or how he was biting his lips so badly, a habit you helped him to cease doing but apparently he didn’t stop, it was almost bleeding.

But you couldn’t care less. Because this was so typical of Pierre: putting the blame on you by saying you didn’t want to hear his explanation.

“Oh.” you laughed nervously, turning to look at him. “Maybe you’re right.” you took a break long enough for him to frown, wondering if you really agreed with him. He knew for sure that during your past arguments, none of you would flinch this easily.

“I really can’t fucking understand how you could lie to your parents and pretend we are still together, Pierre.”

“What was I supposed to do?

“Tell the fucking truth.” you replied, slamming your hand on the dashboard.

This was absolutely not how you planned your Christmas’ eve.

Well, to be honest, you didn’t plan much. Your parents were away for the holiday and you were just going to eat some homemade food in front of a christmas movie. Nothing much but a well appreciated evening.

For sure, you didn’t plan on spending it with your ex-boyfriend and his family.

Pierre suddenly drove on the sideway and stopped there, getting some horns from annoyed drivers. You looked at him with confusion, he wasn’t the reckless driver type. Obviously. It was his habit to scare you when you shared the car.

He stopped the car and turned to you. “I fucked up, ok? I know that. On so many levels.” you rolled your eyes at this and held back any bad comments. “But everything went fast after our breakup. I haven't seen them since this summer and I couldn’t announce that we broke off our engagement through the phone. When my mom said they were waiting for us tonight, I didn’t have the heart to ruin their christmas. You can blame me for lying. But don’t fucking blame me for protecting my parents for god sake!”

Pierre was right. You knew it.

It was something you’ve always kinda admired about him: how his family would always go first. You couldn’t count the number of hours you waited for him in the hotel room, ready to go out and celebrate, while he was on the phone with his parents or his brothers. For sure, you would be a liar to blame him for something you’ve always encouraged him to do.

Especially considering that you accepted to play pretend tonight for the sake of protecting them, too.

When Pierre called you tonight, you didn’t answer. When he texted you, you barely read the message.

When he knocked on your door, you didn’t have any other choice than to open.

And when he told you, you needed to come with him at his parents’ place to act like a couple even though you’ve been apart for three months now because he still hasn't told them about you…well you laughed. Nervously. And argued a lot.

Then you realised you didn’t want to be the bad person in this narrative. What was one night in a whole life?

You sighed, still looking at Pierre. He still hasn’t moved, waiting for an answer from you. You got lost in each other’s eyes.

And that was the thing that convinced you to come. The fact that he was ready to bring you back home if you really didn’t want to accompany him.

“Fine.” you sat back normally. “You could have told them I wasn’t available.”

You heard Pierre laugh softly. “You still want to have the last word I see.”

Most of the ride went quietly after that. Pierre put on some music and you answered most of your texts. You only started to talk again ten minutes before you arrived to make sure you had the same ideas in mind. No break up, you were still planning your wedding and happy as before. And the reason you didn’t see his family in so long was simply a lack of time from both of you.

“And…” Pierre started once he was parked in front of his family house. You frowned, wondering what you could have potentially forgotten. You memorised everything and it wouldn’t be that hard to pretend after a three year relationship.

But then it hit you when he took the box out of his pocket. “I almost forgot it at home but it’s here.”

You remember when Pierre proposed to you.

You went to Greece during the summer break, last year. One night, while you were walking around the city, you found a place that was recreating Mamma Mia and invited everyone to sing and have fun. And so you went there, singing Abba the whole night. At some point during the night, after a kiss that lasted longer than it should in public, Pierre looked at you with a big smile and said “I want to marry you.” You laughed, thinking he was joking. But he wasn’t. “I meant it. Would you marry me?” and this time you started to cry, nodding so hard you had a neckache.

You later learnt that Pierre had imagined a whole different scenario for the proposal. But it spoke with his heart and did it when it felt perfectly right.

And tonight, you were putting back the ring you worshipped with your whole heart. “It feels weird.” you whispered.

Pierre didn’t answer and simply left the car. It was hard for him too. Acting like he didn’t lose the woman of his life over stupid decisions.

“Vous voilà! Je suis tellement contente de vous voir.” (oh there you are! I’m so happy to see you)

Before you even got the chance to prepare yourself in front of the door, Pierre’s mom opened it and took you both in her arms. You couldn’t lie, it felt good to see her and feel just as appreciated as before. Like nothing changed. And it was the truth, somehow. For his mom, nothing has changed. You were still her son’s fiancé, the one she almost saw as a daughter.

You looked at them, the way she kept touching his face to see any changes. And, what she told you one day, if he had any scars from races he tried to hide from her. You had this weird feeling of being home. Like you were right where you belong. For a second, you were back a year ago, when everything was perfectly fine.

But then it hit you when Pierre took your hand to bring you inside to see everyone. It always felt natural when you were holding hands. In one of your birthday cards, you told him he must be your soulmate simply because your hands seemed to be held by the other.

Tonight, it didn’t feel natural. It was hesitant. Pierre wasn’t confident about closing his fingers on yours and you could feel it.

Everybody seemed so happy to see. They all see you as an official member of their family. And it would be lying to say you weren’t happy to be by their side too.

It helped that you didn’t see much of them for months. You spend the first two hours of the night talking with everyone but Pierre. Asking about their life, their own family, their friends… you had many things to learn. And you avoided some questions. That was one of the rules you established with Pierre. Pretend that the wedding was a big secret you couldn’t tell a thing about. For the rest, you just made the truth prettier.

Sure, you started a new job. But you didn’t admit it was a full time one because you didn’t go to the races anymore.

Yes, your pet was doing so fine. You just had to find the right pictures that would show your new apartment.

No, you still haven’t decided where you would spend the winter break with Pierre. Because you weren’t going on any holiday anymore. At least, not together.

The dinner was a little harder to live. Because you sat next to Pierre, like it was planned. Like it has always been. And this time, compared to the whole drive, you felt more trapped. Because you couldn’t roll your eyes at what he was saying, or avoid his hand when he tried to touch you. Everyone would notice that and understand that something was wrong. You had to be careful.

So careful that, at some point during the evening, you even forgot why you were acting like that. You got lost in his stories about races you went to and especially those you miss after your breakup. You laughed at his joke, sympathised with his bad moments and cheered at the podium you missed.

You remember that day, or night actually for you. You didn’t watch the end of the season after your separation but you still had the notifications from the official account. So you knew the results. And when you learnt that Pierre had secured a second place on the podium, you almost called him. It was still a natural reflex: this desire of celebrating with your loved one.

But you didn’t. You didn’t even send him a text. And for one good reason: the last text you got from him was simply “Je suis désolé” (i am sorry) and you couldn’t handle the pain of going through the pain again.

There had been hard times these past months where you almost forgive Pierre for breaking your engagement. There had been many times where you still wanted to call him and insult him for breaking up just because he woke up one day and realised this was maybe not what he wanted for his future.

What was this? This has been the question you’ve asked yourself many, many times. Was it your couple, your wedding or just you? You had no idea. Pierre couldn’t even explain it himself. He just knew that it wouldn’t be fair to keep pretending he was happy in a life he learnt to despise.

And it was now, sitting by his side, that you realised you had overcome all these mixed feelings. You felt alright. Not good, because the wound was still wide open. But you had accepted it. You would never marry Pierre. And you didn’t want to anymore.

After he finished telling the story of the last race of the season and the battle of champagne he had with Charles, while everyone was talking together, Pierre turned to you. You both got lost in each other's eyes. And you were convinced his little smile was a soft thank you. For being here, for lying, for…being happy.

Because it hadn’t been easy months for Pierre either. Many times he woke up, thinking he had made the worst decision of his life. And some morning, he still wonders if he didn’t lose you for nothing. And those questions weren’t created by some insecurities about his happiness because he knew that he felt happier without this weight on his shoulder. But because he was scared he had ruined you. He would have accepted to be miserable for the rest of his life over this stupid. But he couldn’t accept hurting you forever.

But tonight, you both realised that maybe, things were going better for the both of you. And maybe, that night, was the one you both needed to start healing.

This helps the rest of the night go smoothly. You played games together, laughed together without thinking about the lie you were telling everyone. Even the drive back home felt natural, you talked about his family a lot. He even asked about yours. It was a whole different from the outward journey earlier.

Pierre insisted on walking to your door with you. “It wasn’t that bad, right?” you couldn’t help but smile at him. He had this kind of unserious almost flirty tone like he needed to prove to himself and to you that he was right, in the end. It wasn’t such a terrible thing to do.

You crossed your arms on your chest, a way to protect your heart from opening itself again. “No it wasn’t. You’re right.” he shrugged like it wasn’t such a surprise and you immediately hit him in the chest. You both laughed and oh how it felt good to be this lighthearted again for a few minutes.

It meant more than you imagined that you were standing in front of your door, with your ex-fiancé in front of you. When you could already be in the bed but rather got lost in his eyes. Because you knew exactly what this moment was. And deep down, you weren’t ready to let it go.

You could hear Pierre talk before he even opened his mouth. “We were good together, huh?” you tried to not focus on his glossy eyes or the way he was playing with his fingers.

“Yeah, we were.” you smiled, containing your own tears from falling. “It was good while it lasted.”

Pierre crossed the few steps between you. You closed your eyes when you felt his lips on your forehead. Such a kind and sweet attention you remember he had when you started dating. When, for the first time maybe in his life, he wanted to take things slow to make them last. But this time, there were no other moments to share. And you had to watch him leave your place.

For the last time.

You finally put the key in the door, taking your time to not close this chapter of your life too fast. “Eh!” you jumped, turning around immediately and saw Pierre holding the elevator’s door open. “You know I'll still love you, right?”

“I do.” you tried to ignore this weird feeling in your stomach, not waiting to think about the fact you ended up saying the two words you would never say to him. “Me too.”

There lies the truth. You loved each other. Still.

But you couldn’t be together anymore.

And so when you finally opened the front door and got inside. When Pierre finally let the elevator closed on him and brought him back to his car. You both knew what it meant.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly story #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fin #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #my writing

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twilightjwy · 7 months

Text

your hand in my pocket to keep us both warm

wooyoung x reader

friends to lovers fluff <3 reader is friends with ateez, there are mentions of all of the members :)

summary: you go on a ski trip and become a lot closer with wooyoung than you expected

wc: 1.5k

notes: my whole inspiration for this was from the lyric (that i made the title) in the song ‘abstract’ by hozier <3333 that song is soooooo good

💭 ◟♡ ˒ ⊹ ִ

the air was cold and snow was falling as you rode down the mountain one last time. everyone was getting pretty tired and yunho suggested that they call it quits for the day and head back to the resort to watch a movie and relax before driving home tomorrow so you all raced down the trail to get to the bottom. you and the guys had decided to take a road trip up to a ski resort, which ended up being a real bonding experience (especially because you all had to work together to teach yeosang how to ski since he had never gone before).

the whole trip had been so fun with your best friends, but you and wooyoung had definitely been flirting with each other the entire time (and everyone could tell). you and wooyoung had been friends for years and you’d been in love with him the whole time. you always thought you would never tell him, but after this weekend you were starting to rethink it all. you two were glued to each other the whole time — racing down the mountain together, sitting on the ski lift together (so close to each other you practically left enough room for a third person to squeeze on there with you). you swapped jackets some days to see how long it would take the others to notice and then giggle about it to yourselves. hongjoong would just roll his eyes. “i definitely think there’s something going on between them,” he said to seonghwa.

tonight was the night that everything really changed, though. you had packed up all your stuff and left it in the lodge for you all to pick up tomorrow before heading home. the resort was just a short walk from the mountain but it was cold. your shivering increased with every step you took. you kept rubbing your hands together and blowing hot air into them to keep them somewhat warm since you didn’t have any gloves with you. wooyoung, with his giant warm winter jacket, was walking right next to you and noticed how much you were shaking.

“you cold?” he asked.

“very.”

with his right hand he propped open his jacket pocket.

“put your hand in here,” he said as he raised his eyebrows at you and motioned with his head.

you slowly put your left hand into his pocket and you could feel as he rested his hand right on top of yours.

“there, now we can both stay warm,” he said.

“thanks,” you said softly, with a nervous smile to him.

wooyoung was a touchy person, so you’ve been close like this before, but something about this seemed different, more intimate. you could feel his soft hand on top of yours, suddenly every nerve in your body was on red alert. you’d never been so aware of your own hand before, how does he make you feel like this?

you kept walking along the path and you noticed mingi look back at you both from up ahead. he quickly turned back around and giggled with yunho, his hand covering his mouth. you turned to the side away from wooyoung and smiled to yourself.

after about 20 seconds of silence that felt like an hour, you felt his hand shift in the pocket. you noticed him moving his hand so that your palms were touching and then you felt him lace his fingers with yours. neither of you said anything but you felt butterflies in your stomach — did he really just do that? you walked the rest of the way to the resort, your hand in his pocket the whole time, only taking it out when you got to the suite.

the resort you were staying at had a huge apartment style suite with a living room, kitchen, and multiple bedrooms that you all were sharing. you sat down on the empty couch, hoping wooyoung would come along next and sit down right next to you. but san, completely unaware that something was going on between you guys, immediately took the seat next to you. he was acting so happy and excited with you to watch the movie that you didn’t have the heart to tell him you were trying to save his seat for wooyoung. wooyoung eventually sat down in a comfy chair right across from you. occasionally during the movie he would look over at you, make eye contact, and give you a cute, small smile. he was resting his head on his hand and the way he looked at you was so sweet it made you feel almost lightheaded.

eventually the movie ended and you all decided it was time to go to bed, since tomorrow was going to be a long day of packing and driving. jongho had already fallen asleep on the couch during the movie but no one wanted to wake him, so hongjoong just draped a blanket over him and turned off the lights in the living room.

the thing, though, was that you and jongho and wooyoung were sharing a room. and since jongho was on the couch it was just going to be you and wooyoung. you were starting to get a little nervous as you were getting ready for bed thinking about you and wooyoung alone. you were worried you might end up blurting out how you feel about him and then the whole friendship would be ruined if he didn’t feel the same. you tried to block the thought out of your mind as you slipped under your comforter.

wooyoung walked into the room, pajamas on and looking the cutest he ever has.

“our last slumber party of the weekend,” he said as he puffed out his lower lip, looking sad.

“i know!” you said, “we’re going to have to do it more often when we’re home.”

“i’ll definitely take you up on that sometime.”

he turned off the light, got into his bed and pulled out his phone. “i was going to finish one episode of the show i was watching before i sleep, do you wanna watch it with me?” he asked, hoping you would say yes.

“sure” you smiled. as you got up he lifted the covers for you to get in.

you crawled in right next to him in the dark, your bodies touching. you could feel the heat radiating from him, comforting as it was still so cold, even in the suite. he turned on the show and you leaned your head on his chest to see his phone screen better (which really was just an excuse to cuddle him closer). you wondered if he was feeling the same knots in his stomach as you were. he was invested in the episode but you started to feel your eyes closing and eventually you fell asleep. wooyoung felt the tension release from your body and the weight of your head above his heart, which he hoped you could not feel was beating a lot faster than normal.

you woke up suddenly when the episode ended as you felt wooyoung shift beside you to put his phone on the side table.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” he said sweetly as he laid down.

“it’s okay, i should probably get back to my bed now,” you said.

“you know you can just stay here if you want to, i really don’t mind, i’d actually kind of like it if you did,” he said shyly. “but totally no pressure,” he added in a hurry, his eyes wide.

you blushed and cuddled in next to him again, this time with his arm around you. you looked up at him and met his eyes in the dark.

“i really don’t want to ruin what we have now, but i really like you,” he whispered to you.

“don’t worry, i really like you too,” you held back, not mentioning how in love with him you have been since the day you met. that would be for another time.

he took his hand and ran his fingers through your hair, still looking into your eyes. you lifted your head to meet his and gently connected your lips. he kissed you back even deeper, cupping your face in his hand.

you pulled away and you both breathed.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that,” he said as he closed his eyes and shook his head with a smile on his face.

“me too,” you said and pulled him back in for another kiss. eventually you went to sleep, your body on top of his, legs entangled together, his arms fully wrapped around you, and your head buried in his neck.

it turned out to be a pretty good ski trip — definitely a lot of bonding.

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #wooyoung #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung fanfic #jung wooyoung #ateez fluff #Spotify

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stargirlwrites · 1 year

Text

Not just s-ex

Jungkook x f.reader

-> slight amut, angst, fluff

-> warnings: TW! - mentions of r4pe. , unprotected sex, slut shaming, angry Jungkook, high sex drive reader, crying, they get into nasty argument :(

☆ ------ ︻╦╤─ ҉ -¨ * ‧₊˚*♡ * *” ♡. ♡ ------ ☆

Jungkook didn't know what to do about you. When you first told him about having a high sex drive he didn't think much of it. He lost his virginity to you, he didn't know anything else but you so he understood everything about your body, but recently you've been asking for sex way more than you usually do.

You two spend more time having sex than actually hanging out together. So he's going to confront you in the nicest way possible.

"F-faster please koo!" You whine out as Jungkooks cock hits every right spot inside of you, you swear he's all inside your tummy. Making you feel euphoric.

His hips snap against yours as he feels you clenching around him, knowing you're about to cum. You feel his thrust get sloppier as you let out high pitched screams, not caring about the neighbors. It wasn't short after until Jungkook gave you your third cream pie of the night. Yay unprotected sex your favorite. (Don't do it you'll die.)

After you two were finished, Jungkook was exhausted. You two went at it for 3 rounds and he is completely out of it. You two cleaned yourselves up and changed the cum stained sheets. Jungkook layed down on his spot, holding you close as he kisses you goodnight and tries to close his eyes to drift away in his own little dream land. Until he felt you shift and move onto his body.

He opens his eyes and let's out a little sigh. Of course you're still horny. Of course you still want to have sex.

"Baby.. look we'll do it tomorrow night I promise I'm just very tired so-" You cut him off with your bratty little voice

"Mmm but I want you s-so so.. so bad. Want it again" you started to rub yourself against Jungkooks soft crotch. You and Jungkook usually do this. You thought he was just doing the silly little foreplay like usually.. but he wasn't.

His hands gently hold your hips still, preventing you from making any movement. You pout your lips and remove his hands, putting them on your breast instead

"You can have me all the time. Always want you.." you started to grind on his crotch again, letting out small moans when your clit rubs against his clothed cock.

His once soft hands turn aggressive, you yelp when you feel jungkook slightly above you off of him. It actually kind of hurt he wasn't being very gentle.

"Ohhh I know what you want" you giggle and try to remove Jungkooks boxers, still thinking it'd apart of your little foreplay you two usually do, forgetting about his harsh grip.

Jungkook sighs angrily and grips your wrist and shoves you harder away from him. His grip was hard and left redness on your wrist. You yelp a small "Jungkook.." before he responds

"God damn it ___ can you stop being a horny freak for once and leave my cock alone Jesus christ." You didn't know you were going something wrong. You thought he wanted to..

"I- ... I thought-.. this was never a problem before I mean-"

"No, maybe if you weren't such a fucking slut begging for dick every hour this wouldn't be a problem. You're a whore. No self respect for yourself what so ever."

You couldn't believe Jungkook was this mad with you. If he would have actually talked to you before hand you wouldn't do anything he's uncomfortable with, never.

Tears escape your eyes as you make tiny sobs but Jungkooks mouth keeps running. His mouth keeps going as he gets up and starts dressing, like he's going somewhere. This only makes your breathing get harder.

"Do you even know all the stories I heard about you? All the men that's confessed of being inside of you without protection? They even had evidence, everyone at my fucking Job knows. That's why I fear fucking you raw, don't know what kind of disease I'll catch."

And that's where he crossed the line.

You wrap your body in your fluffy pink robe, quickly getting up to face him. His irritated face faces your pink puffy one with tears streaming down.

You slap him.

"How fucking dare you. How could you s-say that to me. I know I have a problem I'm sorry. Maybe if you just talk to me this wouldn't be a problem. I... I w-was fucking räpĕd by .. by 4 boys in high-school and they never got punishment for it. Sorry that it'll fuck me up in ways."

Jungkooks eyes widen when he hears his words. Well he's a fucking asshole. Before he could say anything you beat him to his problem pity words

"Don't care what you say. Don't want to see you please leave, we can talk later. Not tonight."

That night you went to bed alone. For the first time in 2 years you slept in bed without him by your side. It was a long night. Thoughts rambling in both of your minds, Regret and pain. You regretted taking your past sexual frustration on him and not telling him your dark past. It was painful. Jungkook regretted saying all those nasty things to you and not listening to the screams of help you silently screamed. It was painful because he hurt the one he truly loved. He hurt you and it hurt him to know that you were hurt. It hurts him to see you crumble apart because of him.

It wasn't that long after Jungkook stopped crashing at his cousins soyeons place. You and him talked it out. You opened up to him completely and he listened. He reminded you how much he loved you. He reminded not just you but himself how much of a fucking idiot he is.

You're getting help with your high sex drive problem. Of course you and Jungkook still have sex, just instead of every day its twice a week. It feels good. It feels good knowing that you can feel good without sexual acts. That you can feel good with the one you love, and his name is Jeon Jungkook.

( hope you guys enjoyed this. It's short but it's something. Love all of y'all and thank you so much for reading my fics. I have longer ones coming soon!! You can always leave requests too <3!!) - stargirl ☆

*Jungkook is so babygirl I need to write more sub!jk.*

#jeon jungkook #kpop #bts jungkook #jjk smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #fanfic #bts smut #kpop smut #jungkook angst #fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts reader insert #fantasy

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tkachukz · 10 months

Text

Those Green Eyes - Trevor Zegras

summary: When you feel torn apart after your breakup and find comfort in a green-eyed unknown hockey player

(part 1 of 2 -or 3-)

words: 2,1 K

Your life could come down to a tightrope.

Fresh from a journalism degree and with an entirely uncertain life ahead of you, without a home, without a job and with your family living in another state, you felt the need to have something stable. Anything.

And that's what Jake, your high school sweetheart, was to you. Until now.

You couldn't hold back the tears when he said right to your face that you'd become routine, you weren't fun anymore, and that he couldn't imagine spending the rest of his life with you, neither another minute.

You got into the first taxi that had the decency to stop for a disheveled and sobbing girl, asking him to move on to a destination you didn't even know. Getting out of town might be the best thing? But go where? You lived with Jake, meaning you didn't have a home of your own. Your parents were miles away, and you didn't want to look like a failure.

The taxi stopped because of the traffic jam and you looked to the side, facing a huge arena, and a line of cars leaving. Probably this was the only part of Anaheim that would get this busy this late.

“I'll be down, thanks” tired of waiting for the taxi to go and desperate for some space and air, you got out, running through the crowd to the parking lot.

A small bench under a street light was empty and you allowed yourself to cry there.

Jake had been your first everything, the only piece of stability you thought you needed, there for you at all times, and now he was gone, and you were alone. Once again.

Noise of breaking branches caught your attention, but you didn't bother to lift your face, continuing with your head down hugging your knees.

"Are you ok?" a gentle male voice sounded, moving a little closer, stepping in front of the street light.

You gave in to curiosity and lifted your head, bumping into a beautiful pair of green eyes, staring at you with concern.

“I'm fine” your voice came out as a whisper.

He analyzed you for a few more seconds, as if looking for visible injuries, if only he could see your broken heart.

“Well, despite your very convincing answer” he began “I think I'll stay here for a while” he sat down on the bench beside you, keeping a respectable distance.

“I don't need you to stay here.”

“Who said I'm here for you? This is the best place to see stars” he said pointing to the sky, which made you drop a small smile “is it a mini smile I see?”

You turned your face away from the green-eyed boy, pressing your lips together to contain your reluctant smile.

“I'm Trevor, by the way” out of the corner of your eye, you saw the outstretched hand.

With a sigh, you allowed yourself to look at the green-eyed boy, who had an amused smile "I'm Yn" he shook your hand gently.

"Pleased to meet you Yn" he went back to looking at the stars in silence.

After a few minutes, your desperate crying subsided, giving way to small sobs. Trevor remained silent, focused on the immensity of the night, watching you from the corner of his eye without you noticing.

A long sigh left your mouth and you looked up "this really is a great place to see the stars".

Trevor agreed with a smile "you know what's better than seeing stars?"

"What?"

"A hamburger"

You couldn't help but laugh and Trevor felt satisfied seeing that he made you laugh.

"Are you hungry? I know a great place!” he jumped off the bench, looking at you hopefully.

“I just met you Trevor, and you already expect me to get in the car with you?”

“Who said car? The arena has an exceptional burger joint. I swear"

“The arena is closed” you said as if it were obvious, and Trevor smirked.

"There are no doors that hold me, my dear."

Ignoring your fear of possible arrest for trespassing and theft, you followed Trevor in a brisk walk to the side door of the arena. As you approached, a large security guard looked at you, and when you were ready to turn around, Trevor spoke confidently.

“She's with me” and like magic, the security guard opened the door.

You kept following the green eyed boy starting to question who he was.

His hair was combed back just below his ear. He had a nice nose, and wore a leather jacket, walking casually with his hands in his pockets.

He led you all the way through the winding interior of the arena, for some reason running away from a few groups of fans that were still around.

“Tandam!” he opened his arms pointing to a small restaurant.

"It's closed??"

His smirk widened, and he continued walking toward the -closed- establishment.

A middle-aged woman was at the register, and her eyes sparkled at his approach.

“Trevor my little one, what are you doing here?? I thought you were gone hours ago!”

He shrugged, leaning against the counter “some unforeseen things happened, I know it's late but, could you make two more hamburgers? My friend is hungry"

He nodded at you, and the woman turned her large eyes to stare at you.

“Hi” you waved shyly, hugging your body without even realizing it.

“But of course!! Two hamburgers coming out. And it was nice meeting you sweetie” that last part was directed at you.

Hundreds of questions raced through your mind in a matter of priority, but you couldn't voice any before the food arrived. Trevor paid for both of them, picking up all the bags and heading in the opposite direction of the door.

"This way."

“But isn’t the exit over there?”

"I know, and that's why we're going this way."

You looked around "Trevor, the arena is about to close, we can't stay here."

The side smile appeared again “trust me, and follow me”.

After some corridors and stairs, he opened the door to a balcony, with privileged seats for ice, television, a pool table and various other things. Trevor grabbed some sodas from the freezer and sat down at the table, taking a desperate bite of his hamburger.

“Sorry, I'm starving. Sit down, Yn, this is great, you won't regret it!”

Your arms were crossed, still trying to understand why you were there and not behind bars for trespassing. Did he own the arena?

Trevor noticed your confusion and let out a small amused smile "You don't watch hockey do you?"

"What does it matter?"

“That's a no, right?”

You nodded impatiently and Trevor chuckled, taking a sip of his soda.

“I play here. I mean, on the hockey team here. This arena is like my second home.”

Your eyes popped out “are you a hockey player? Really?"

“Don't I look like a hockey player?” he had an offended look.

“Well, all the pictures of hockey players I can remember are giant, bald guys with missing teeth. You look like you have all your teeth.”

Trevor's laugh was loud, and he gave you a delighted "well, I guess I can't be offended that you think I'm too cute to play hockey."

Your cheeks flushed with a smile.

He pointed to the chair across from him and you sat down, feeling your stomach rumble as you opened the burger.

“Best burger in Anaheim yes or of course?”

You nodded, your mouth too full to speak, and he chuckled.

“So, Trevor” you had some soda “hockey player. Why did not you say it before?"

He shrugged “I'm a mystery guy” he leaned back in his chair having already finished his food, while you were halfway done.

“It would have avoided moments of apprehension. I was afraid of being arrested.”

“Why would you be arrested?”

“For invading the arena?” you said it like it was obvious and he laughed.

“I needed to know you weren't going to use me for my money and fame” it was your turn to laugh and he chuckled “hey!”

Having finished the hamburgers, you sat down on the chair in the cabin. Most of the stands were dark, but the ice lights alone lit up the entire place. You watched the zamboni clearing the ice, moving from corner to corner, sure of its work.

Your mind clouded and reality came back to you little by little. No home, no Jake, no future. A heavy sigh left your lips and you heard Trevor walk over, taking the chair next to you.

“When I was a kid I had a little dog” he started also staring at the ice “once I was walking him I accidentally released him from the leash. He fled into the middle of the forest and disappeared. I don't think I've ever cried so much. I looked for him day and night for three days until I found him. It's amazing. This story manages to combine one of the saddest moments of my life with one of the happiest.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you broke the silence, not taking your eyes off the green-eyed boy.

Trevor shrugged "I thought if I shared something personal about me, you'd feel free to share what made you so sad."

He stared back at you for milliseconds, but now it was your turn to stare at the ice.

“My boyfriend dumped me” you let out a sad sigh “I know it sounds silly but, I really thought he was the right guy you know? I already had it all planned out. I majored in journalism, him with his company. We would get married in the future, we would have a house, children... is it too much to want that? Jeez, we've been dating for so many years, and overnight he just says he's tired of me?”

Trevor watched you intently, compassion seeping through his body. He tentatively put his hand on your back, afraid to cross a line, but that was the kind of affection you wanted most at that moment.

So you hugged him.

Even a little surprised, Trevor held you tight, bringing you closer. You buried your head in his neck and he continued to gently rub your back.

You lost track of how many minutes passed. Trevor respected your time and all he did was hug you.

It was disconcerting to remember that you had almost just met him.

You pulled away a little, taking a deep breath wanting the crying to stop. Trevor still kept his hand on your back, and gently wiped away a small tear that was running down your cheek.

“I'm sorry for this. That has to be the last thing you would want to be doing on a day like today.”

“I admit that seeing you cry is really not a nice thing. But, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here” he looked at you intensely.

You take a deep breath.

“I think you need to relax,” he said suddenly.

"What?"

"Relax. What are you going to do this weekend?”

You laughed, remembering that you didn't even have a place to spend the night "my schedule of plans is being reworked at the moment".

“I'm going to Florida for All Star Weekend, want to come with me?”

“Oh sure” you laughed but something in his eyes said he was serious “are you serious?”

"Yes. I have a game there, some events, I promise to bring you back safe and sound in three days”.

"I... I can't..."

“What stops you?”

This question made you reflect.

What held you here? In Anaheim or anywhere?

Your plans had been crushed with a hammer, what prevented you from crossing the country with a nice -and very handsome- hockey player?

“I accept” the idea began to make sense.

"It is serious??" Trevor jumped up excitedly.

“Sounds like a cool plan” you said smiling.

“No, you're not going to make plans miss” he grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet “I make the plans, your only mission is to have fun”.

“Ok captain” you said with a genuine smile.

At those words, Trevor's hand on your back tightened. The urge to pull and kiss you was screaming in his head, but the other voice recognized how fragile you were, and he would feel like an asshole if he took advantage of that.

He took his hand from your back, scratching his head sheepishly.

This was not the right time.

But, who knows what such a trip might bring.

Part two comes out by the end of the week!

Thanks for reading!! :))

I would love to read your comments, suggestions, criticisms, or what you expect from this trip (you can send requests if you want)

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #matthew tkachuk

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