#every time I re-read that line I swear I still feel shocked

[wildrangers]

The Moon & Her Sun // Josh Kiszka

Chapter One // The Fool

Josh Kiszka x fem! musician reader

Word Count: 3.5K

keep reading here :)

Hi y'all! This will be a multi-part, slow burn story so buckle up. Also, the titles will be very tarot-based but I am by no means an expert.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of anxiety, drinking (plz let me know if I missed any)

*18+ only, smut will happen later in the series*

“Please tell me you’re fucking with us” Sam said, eyes wide as all the boys leaned towards the phone he had on speaker.

“Sorry guys, I wish I was. Apparently, they’re having some real issues and are on the verge of breaking up. They’ve cancelled all their gigs for this summer, including opening for you” their manager replied, not exactly pleased himself at this change of plans.

“But we leave for tour in three weeks” Danny replied. “What are we going to do? We need an opener.”

“We’re working on it now, in the mean-time, you could always take in some shows around Nashville while you’re there to see if anyone sticks out to you. I swear, we will have this figured out by next week the latest.”

The boys mumbled their agreements and goodbyes before Sam disconnected the call. All they could do was stare at each other in shock. They hadn’t been able to tour in years because of COVID and they’d worked so hard to put together a good show, which of course started with the opening band.

“Fuck!” Jake yelled, running his hand through his hair just as Jita walked in.

“What’s going on? Why does everyone look like someone died? Please tell me no one died” Jita rambled as she looped her arm through Jake’s. They quickly filled her in and she chewed on her lip thoughtfully for a moment. “I mean, I obviously don’t know what they’re schedule is like for the summer but that band I’m really into, Rising Sirens, is playing tonight. I was dragging Jake along with me but it’s all general admission, I’m sure we could get three more tickets.”

They mulled it over, Josh turning to Jake, “Have you listened to them? What do you think?”

“I have, they definitely seem musically similar to our opener we just lost. It would really depend on their stage presence which we could all see tonight. It can’t hurt, right?” Jake argued, shrugging his shoulders. They all quickly agreed, Jita ordering the additional tickets before they went out for dinner.

Several hours later, Josh found himself waiting in line with his brothers and Jita, stomach queasy with anxiety. This tour meant a lot to him, to all of them, and he was hoping to the Universe this band fit the bill. With tour starting so soon, it would be hard to find anyone who wasn’t already booked up. Josh was pleased to see the crowd around him was buzzing with excitement, anxiously peeking their heads towards the doors every few moments. This was a popular venue but it seemed that most of the crowd was here for Rising Sirens, not just a night out.

As the doors finally opened, a few excited shouts sounded from the crowd and they were all quickly jostled inside. “Jesus, I haven’t actually been part of a crowd like this in ages” Jake mused beside him. As Josh turned to respond, he caught Jita excitedly jumping up and down as they took in the stage.

“Okay, the best spot is still open follow me” she commanded, dragging Jake by his hand, the rest of them following. They walked up a small set of stairs, settling in at a high-top bar table with a great view of the stage. Jake and Jita went to get drinks for everyone as the opening band began warming up.

“I have a good feeling about them with Jita being this stoked about being here” Danny said, taking in the crowd around them. Sam nodded, “Plus, this place is buzzing right now.”

The next hour or so was spent listening to Rising Siren’s opening act and having a few rounds of drinks. “I mean, if we get SUPER desperate, we could always steal their opener” Sam joked causing Jake to snort beside him.

“Stop it guys, they weren’t that bad” Danny defended, sending a glare towards the two boys. Just as Sam was about to retort, the lights dimmed and the room erupted. Josh liked to think he was on top of up-and-coming bands but judging by the volume and intensity of the crowd, he had clearly missed out on them.  

The drums sounded first and the dark-skinned drummer’s form was illuminated from a light below, highlighting their buzzcut. More cheers erupted at the sight of them, only intensifying as a tan girl with multi-colored hair bounded onstage with her bass, adding to the drummer’s beat. The last instrumentalist to emerge was a tall, bronzed man who looked similar to the bassist, albeit without the dyed hair. A particularly loud squeal sounded from the crowd, making Josh chuckle quietly; he guessed this guy was the heartthrob of the group based on the wide-eyed audience members nearby.

As the music swelled, the microphone was lit by a spotlight but no one was there yet. The crowd roared seemingly desperate for the singer to arrive so the show could truly begin. The music suddenly cut, allowing a brief pause of total silence before a woman’s voice rang from offstage. Josh felt goosebumps pepper his skin as the woman wailed in the most beautiful, bluesy voice he had ever heard, the music quickly joining her again.

The crowd was absolutely feral, singing along with the woman who finally entered the spotlight, her long hair illuminated in the bright light. She donned a flowing lacy black dress, sparkly purple Doc Marten’s on her feet. Her neck, wrists, and fingers were covered in silver jewelry and her eyes seemed to glow as she took in the eager crowd before her.

“Holy shit” Josh mumbled without fully realizing he was speaking. He saw the others nod in agreement, unable to take their eyes off the stage. The next hour and a half passed in a blur, Josh’s eyes rarely straying from the lead singer’s form. She flew around the stage, dress billowing behind her, never once losing the melody or missing a note. Her voice was beautiful and she had great stage presence but more than that, he felt drawn to her like a magnet.

All of the band members were playful with each other onstage and it was clear to Josh that they’d known each other a long time based on their ease with one another. Their songs were a blend of classic and punk rock, the singer’s bluesy tone adding a richness to the melodies she sang. As they said their goodbye’s, before what Josh assumed would be a brief encore, he felt a hand on his forearm. Turning, he saw Jake who was beaming.

“I think it’s safe to say were sold on Rising Sirens?” he questioned his twin, hand clamped on his shoulder. Josh felt himself nodding, for once at a loss for words. Jake posed the same question to Danny and Sam who quickly agreed. “I know the venue’s manager so I’m going to head backstage and see if they can introduce us. I’ll call you once I talk to her.”

Josh nodded, his eyes quickly turning back to the stage when he heard the crowd begin cheering. There was no way he was going miss seeing that singer perform one last time tonight.

***

You collapsed on the couch backstage following the encore, greedily chugging down one of the water bottles left out in the dressing room.

“The crowd was on fucking fire tonight!” Carolina shouted in delight, placing her beloved bass beside her brother Caleb’s guitar. “Can you believe that shit?”

“It’s the hometown crowd, essentially, I would have been disappointed if they weren’t” Kimmy pointed out, drumming their sticks on the arm of the couch.

“Where the fuck is Caleb? He came back here for a second and then disappeared” Caroline moped, always eager to get her twin’s feedback on her performance. The two were polar opposites but thick as thieves. Carolina’s bright hair matched her loud, effervescent personality; she had yet to meet a person she hasn’t made her friend. Caleb, on the other hand, was serious and studious, insistent upon managing the band even though it doubled his workload.

“Maybe the venue management needed him? If they’re smart, they’ll book us again soon. We have those few festival dates but otherwise we’re open this summer while we work on the new album” Kimmy pointed out, dragging Carolina beside them and forcing a water bottle into her hands. Carolina pecked them on the cheek and began chugging the bottle’s contents.

You smiled at your friends but kept quiet, reflecting on the show. Your flamboyant stage presence was always a contrast to your real-life personality; you had long preferred to quietly observe, taking in what was going on around you. You were similar to Caleb in that way but hoped you weren’t quite as intense as him.

The door opened and Caleb entered, quickly closing it behind him despite the commotion outside. “What was that about?” you asked, curious. You were normally good at reading his moods but this one was particularly tricky.

“So, a band came to scope us out tonight to see if we would be willing to open for their summer tour” Caleb explained, leaning back on the door.

“What band?” Carolina asked, excitement gleaming in her eyes as she sat up.

“Before I share that detail, we need to decide if committing to three months of touring will be good for our writing process. I’m sure the record label won’t mind the additional exposure even if it pushes back the planned release date a little but it would still be a tight squeeze” he explained, ever the pragmatist.

“Really, that’s between you and Y/N. You two write the lyrics and flush out the basics and we go from there. We can do that part anywhere, right Carolina?” Kimmy asked and Carolina nodded her agreement.

You sat silently thinking over this mysterious proposal. Judging by Caleb’s reluctance to name the band, they must be significant enough that he didn’t want their name to sway our decision either way. Normally, you hunkered down with Caleb, spending weeks almost exclusively with each other while mapping out the framework of the album. But you’d be lying if you weren’t intrigued by the idea of writing while touring, allowing the energy and inspiration from each night’s show to propel the album’s writing process.

“I think we should do it with two exceptions. One, obviously, if any of us totally hate the band it’s a no. Two, we only agree if there are enough off days where we could hunker down either in a hotel or bus.”

Caleb nodded at your answer, taking it in alongside whatever was flying through his own mind. A moment later he whispered, “It’s Greta Van Fleet.”

“No fucking way! I swear to God, if you’re playing some kind of sick prank on us, I will end you” Carolina shrieked, eyes wide. You turned towards her, only to see Kimmy’s excitement mirroring her own.

“I’m sorry, who?” you questioned.

“Greta Van Fleet, they’re the band Carolina and Kimmy are obsessed with. If you heard them, you’d recognize them” Caleb explained and you nodded.

“Oh my god guys, please, let’s make this work somehow. They’re incredible” Kimmy exclaimed, looking between the two of you.

“Tell them you’ll meet with their management, we have to make sure we have time to write or this just won’t work” you argued, Carolina and Kimmy groaning but reluctantly agreeing. As Caleb snuck back outside, you briefly met a curly-haired boy’s golden eyes. You fought back laughter as Kimmy and Carolina collectively lost their shit about this new development. Awhile later, Caleb returned, leaving the door open behind him revealing a now empty hallway.

“Well?!” Carolina exclaimed. “They understood our requirements and I have a call scheduled with their manager tomorrow morning. No matter what though, they’re going to send over four tickets for us to see them tomorrow” Caleb replied, bracing himself as his twin and Kimmy began screaming and jumping up and down.

“Okay, new rule you two: absolutely NO dating any of them if we end up touring, alright? Keep the fangirling to a minimum or they’ll change their mind” you teased. Carolina stuck her tongue out as Kimmy flipped you off, everyone laughing as you continued to unwind from the show.

***

The following day, Caleb reported the meeting went well and could expect the contract tomorrow morning. As you got ready for the show, Carolina blasted their music from her phone and it was, in fact, familiar. You were intrigued if the singer could actually hit some of those notes live. You felt your mind wandering as you added some glitter onto your lids atop the dark, smudged eyeliner.

You took a step back to look at your entire outfit, taking in the dark hues and flowing silhouette. Carolina, on the other hand, was wearing neon and pastels. You smiled at your best friend’s bright appearance and obvious eagerness to get going. People always marveled at you both, seeing as you tended towards darkness while Carolina radiated light. Some were confused by the contrast but it had always worked for the two of you.

“Kimmy just pick a pair of Vans already! We got to get going” Carolina sighed in exasperation, causing Kimmy to roll their eyes towards you as they grabbed the nearest pair that matched their bright jeans and leather jacket. Caleb was surely waiting downstairs already, dressed in his usual basics: dark bomber jacket, tight jeans. The group’s contrasting styles were always a topic of conversation at any photoshoot, the stylist faced with the impossible task of pleasing everyone.

Carolina quickly forced everyone down the stairs and out, Caleb already complaining we had all taken too long and would be late, which was unprofessional. You rolled your eyes as you buckled your seat belt, tuning out the twins’ bickering as Kimmy showed you a funny video on their phone.

Once you arrived at the venue, you were surprised when security immediately escorted your group to a reserved section, just to the side of the stage. The area was clearly used for friends and family but only one woman was there, smile bright on her face.

“Hi! I’m Jita, Jake’s girlfriend. I just wanted to say I’m absolutely obsessed with your music, I’m so glad it seems like this tour will work out.”

“Oh my God, stop, you’re so sweet!” Carolina beamed, folding her into a tight embrace. The rest of you quickly introduced yourselves and hugged her, excluding Caleb who gave her a simple nod.

"Ignore him, he’s grumpy” you heard Carolina tease as you made your way to sit beside him.

“You know, I could argue being rude to Jita is wildly unprofessional, maybe even more so than being late which we weren’t anyway” you teased, smirking. He rolled his eyes before responding, “I wasn’t rude, I just don’t feel the need to grab people like the rest of you do.”

“If you say so” you joked, drawing out the o at the end. “But seriously, are you okay with all of this? I know it’s a departure from our normal process.”

He shrugged, thinking it over before responding, “As an artist, I’m concerned but as the manager, I’m excited. I mean this is huge exposure for us, we just can’t pass it up. The label was over the moon when I told them how this opportunity fell into our laps.”

Before you could respond, the lights dimmed and the crowd cheered. You assumed they had no opener and knew the crowd would go wild when they realized they were jumping right into Greta Van Fleet’s performance. You clapped Caleb on the back before joining the others by the railing, wanting to take in the show as much as you possibly could.

As everyone made their way onto the stage, your eyes were instantly drawn to the curly-haired man you’d accidentally made eye contact with the night before. Despite his smaller stature, his voice was absolutely operatic, booming forth with precision and passion all while he ran about the stage, almost seeming to bother his bandmates while they played their various solos. You loved his jumpsuit and how he strutted around; it brought to mind other rock stars like Freddie Mercury or Mick Jagger.

Their set passed quickly and by its conclusion you were thrilled you’d somehow lucked out into opening for them. Carolina’s and Kimmy’s voices were hoarse from their screaming as they happily discussed their favorite parts of the show. As your group finally followed Jita backstage, you felt your stomach erupt with butterflies. Not only were you now a fan of their music but you worried you wouldn’t live up to their expectations. People almost always commented on how different you were offstage versus on and you were dreading that conversation, which always made you feel vulnerable and awkward.

Luckily, the guys were still buzzing with excitement from the show and introductions happened quickly and easily. They ordered a bunch of drinks for everyone and you found yourself sitting beside Danny, which you quickly became grateful for. Unlike the others, he seemed quieter and less intense which put you more at ease.

“No way! You guys are twins too?!” Josh laughed pointing between a very unamused looking Caleb and a giddy Carolina.

“Yes way! Isn’t that funny? Two sets of twins on tour” she laughed.

“Oh my god, we totally need to rename the tour that now” Jake joked, making everyone laugh.

“Is he always so serious?” Danny asked beside you and you chuckled before turning to face him.

“What do you mean? He’s barely containing himself right now” you grinned and Danny threw his head back in laughter. “But yeah, he’s been this way since we were kids if you can believe it. Carolina and I have been friends since kindergarten and I seriously thought he hated me until we were like 12.”

“That’s understandable if his face always looks so angry” Sam joined in from the other side of Danny and you giggled, nodding. You always felt more comfortable in pairs or small groups, rather than a large party or everyone talking at once. As the evening progressed, everyone began talking over one another, so you quietly excused yourself to head out to the bar for one last drink.

***

Josh felt frustrated as he watched you sneak out of the room. He had watched you chatting with Sammy and Daniel, but whenever he tried pulling you into the larger conversation, you’d shut down. He felt someone nudge him and he turned to see a smirking Jake. “What do you want?” Josh frowned, always a little worried when Jake seemed amused with himself.

“If you want to talk to Y/N, just go do it.”

“I don’t know what you mean” Josh lied and Jake gave him a pointed look.

“You have literally been staring at her all night and you deflate like a balloon every time she doesn’t laugh at your jokes. It’s pathetic, man” Jake goaded him. Josh not-so-playfully nudged his twin as he downed his drink, making his way out to where he thought the bar was. He was surprised to see you had settled on a bar stool by yourself rather than returning to the dressing room.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked and felt his heart flutter as your bright eyes met his.

“Of course not, I just needed a break from the huge crowd” you admitted as Josh sat beside you.

Josh ordered another cocktail and grinned at you, “I’m surprised you’re not a social butterfly. I was kind of expecting you to be after the show you put on last night.”

He quickly wanted to kick himself as he saw you fail to hide your cringe. “Yeah, that’s the general feedback if people meet me after seeing me perform—always a bit of letdown.”

The bartender set down his drink but Josh ignored it, instead replying, “Who said it was a letdown? I was just jealous Daniel and Sammy got to hang out with you all night.”

He watched as you continued avoiding his eyes, “Well, here I am!” you joked lightly.

“Well first of all, obviously, how did you learn to sing like that?” he complimented, taking a sip of his drink. At this comment, your whole face lit up as you delved into all of your vocal training before talking about your songwriting process. Josh added comments here and there but you were so clearly passionate about your work that he didn’t want to interrupt.

“I’m sorry, I’m just rambling now” you laughed, your eyes finally steadily meeting his own.

“I could listen to you talk all night if I’m being honest” he said, pleased with himself when you nervously cut your gaze away at his flirtation. Before he could think of something to add, music blasted from down the hallway causing you to giggle. “Why are you laughing at them playing ‘You’re Still the One’? That song is a classic.” Josh asked.

“I’m laughing because whenever they want me back in the dressing room or studio after I’ve wondered off, they take turns playing my favorite songs to speed up my return” you explained and he laughed.

“Well, at least you have good taste. Should we go back then?” he asked and you quickly shook your head.

“They’ll cut the song if I go right now, I want to listen” you admitted, smiling up at him.

“I’ve always wanted to cover this song” Josh mused to himself and you quickly agreed. As the final verse began, Josh found himself saying, “Well, maybe we should sing it together on tour then.”

keep reading here!

A/N: This is my first GVF fic so I hope y'all enjoy this, I'm always open to hearing feedback :) If you liked it, please reblog, it really helps! Also, let me know if you want me to write for more of the boys.

#greta van fleet #gvf #josh gvf #jake gvf #sam gvf #danny gvf #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka blurb #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet x reader #josh kiszka x reader #moon and her sun series

[leadenn]

OH YEAH!? YOU WANT MY THOUGHTS? YOU WANT MY THOUGHTS!? (I did that AND some, oops)

Absolutely adore your fic front and back. The entire concept had me intrigued, and once I started reading, I was OBSESSED. Legit, I would talk to my friends about it, talk to my shower, talk to my Twitter mutuals about it.ALSO ALSO I adore how you write monologues, it's so funny and so descriptive, makes me feel things good things. Every single one of them you write so well, like YES he would say that! I see a lot of Raph and Leo being writen so off, like their manorisms are so yes, I could see him doing that. Casey is so cool and I adore his relationship with Abby, big bro and lil sis, he would give the world for his sister and she would love the world for him. You feel me? Oh and I love how all of them just were like "yes Abby is my favorite little sister, I would kill for her", so fucking obsessed. Casey and Abby have gone through so much shit and I'm so happy for them being around people who love and care for them. Leatherhead and Casey and Abby and Mikey are so sweet. Leatherhead is also a sweetheart, he's so nice and the way you write him makes me melttt, I become a pile of mush 🫠Mikey and Him are soooo sweet too and I swear to god you have changed my ENTIRE perspective on those two as a ship its incredible, like before I ddint even THINK that much about it, but here I am in my notes app with a full on page of how to implement leatherhead in my au AND in my fanfic, the note title is legit called 💥THAMK UOU LEADENN💥 also just read the newest chapter came back to edit this, YAY! FUCK YEAHH!! Those twoooo OUGHHHH!! The inner monologues you write are so fuckin good, like I can read that thing good without getting confused and having to re read, I understand it because you explain well! The scenes play out good and are incredibly funny or incredibly sad or both. Like holy shit. Also the way you write and hint has me going "WHAT? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? WHA WAIT WHA??" like I end up shocked eyes open. I also enjoy your writing so much I usually don't venture off into the collection of other stories unless they still include my favorite character but with how you write I just love everyone so much I'm like eating that shit up, full course meal gourmet food 5 stars. I know you get a lot of Mikey stuff so I left him for last on how much I fucking LOVE HIM HES SO COOL like mental stuff aside his one liners and his kick ass brain lines are awesome oh my god he comes off so damn cool like daaqmnnn who made you king of Antarctica, lord of coolness. I love his inner monologues so much, its so funny and so real like, "Yeah he underestimated how much of DICK the forest would be." Had me HOWLIBG, first thing in and I get hit in tge face with another real as hell Mikey line. That was actually one of the things that keeps me reading, what drew me in when I first found your amazing story. He'd just started spitting facts and a gnarly backstory and in my head I was like "ohhhh shittt!!" I get so excited every time an update comes out, goddamn chapter 5??? I am so goddamn proud of you for reaching 61 CHAPTERS AUGH I can't stress this enough you are doing AMAZING, you're writing so much and it's terrific every single time, every single comment, kudo, fanart, just everything, you deserve it. You're so awesome-sauce! I think I would bite the dust if I wrote as much as you, as much as I love it I am already struggling with getting past 5k words. Anyways, your writing genuinely is my coffee in the morning especially when I've run out of coffee and my phone is the only thing that morning to bring me joy. Also you intimidate me, most fanfic writers do but the moment you interacted with an account, boss music started playing in my head

I think I'll combust if I proof read this so before the guy in my head backs out I'm just gonna send it 👍😩👍

*pukes in joy*

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[chasingwhitebunnies]

No line in a book has ever made me feel what, “if it weren’t for the baby” did

#every time I re-read that line I swear I still feel shocked #peeta mellark #everlark #hunger games #the hunger games #bookblr #bookworm #readblr #500 #1k #2k

[ilovereiding]

Tangled Up in Your Words

summary: reader and Spencer never got along well, but when they get in a heated argument and Spencer says something hurtful about readers weight, he realizes that he crossed a line. Can he fix it and get her back once he realizes he’s in love?

warnings: insecurity (reader), yelling, fighting, Spencer being a dick in the beginning, kissing (i think that’s all, pls lmk if I missed anything!)

pairing: Spencer Reid x PlusSized!Fem!Reader

category: angst, eventual comfort, enemies to lovers

a/n: hii!! this is my first fic ever, if anyone at all reads this then please enjoy, any constructive criticism is helpful.<3

_______ _______ _______ _______ _______ __

The team had just gotten back from a case in Florida, and it had been a hard one for every member of the team, like most cases involving children are. Y/n and Spencer going at it again was certainly not helping.

They had never gotten along well. Y/n joined the team a little over 2 years ago now, and maybe it was just that they had gotten off at the wrong foot, nobody really knew. They just disliked each other from the start. Argument after argument. Often over stupid little things.

What y/n didn’t know, is that the reason Spencer ‘hated’ her, was because the day they met, she had seemed so kind. She greeted him with a warm smile and beautiful y/e/c eyes. Her hair framed her face practically perfectly. He pushed her away and was unknowingly rude to her, because he knew he had a soft spot for kind, beautiful women. He knew he couldn’t fall in love again. So he stupidly settled on the solution of being rude to her. So, that’s how they ended up in situation they are in currently.

Storming into the bullpen, y/n yelling at Spencer for probably the 1,000th time.

“It’s so obvious that you did it on purpose, Reid!”

“I did not! I swear! It’s not fair that you won’t believe me!”

Spencer had spilled scalding hot coffee on her brand new (and quite expensive, might she add) lilac cardigan while on the jet ride home.

“Once again, you obviously did it on purpose, because you hate me and that definitely seems like something you would do to get on my every last nerve, like you do everyday for some reason that is STILL a mystery to me!”

The team had all been watching them at this point, watching them in the middle of the bullpen, yelling at each other. They decided to let them fight it out and eventually get over it like all the other times.

“Y/n, I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose! As much as I do hate you, I wouldn’t do something thing like that!”

“Whatever you say, jerk. Just leave me alone.”, starting to walk away. She was over it a long time ago, deciding to try and be the bigger person and put it to an end before she gave into the urge to punch him square in the face.

“Yeah, walk away. Maybe this is the reason you can’t get a date, because you’re stubborn and ugly, on the inside and on the outside.” He was just letting insults pour from his mouth at this point, no matter how mean, no matter how cruel, because he was enraged that she wouldn’t let him explain. All the build up was coming out now, his wall breaking down.

She froze in her tracks. Sure, she and Reid had had arguments in the past, but he had never in his life said something insulting about her body. The body which she was very insecure about. The body she felt was too out-there. Too flabby. Too much. She had been insecure all her life, starting to get bullied in middle school, only for it to get worse through high school. She was glad those days were over. Now, all those horrible feelings started coming back. The flood gates had opened. Old wounds, cracks to her heart and confidence, re-opened.

“Yeah, maybe that’s the reason you can’t get a date. Because you look like- like that” He didn’t know why he said it, it just came out of his mouth, all of his rage and self control leaving his body.

The team was watching in shock, eyes wide. This was certainly not the Spencer they had grown so fond of over the years. This was someone different. He never made such crude comments about anyones body or appearance. He didn’t believe in those insults. Until now, I guess.

She slowly turned around, tears pricked in the corners in her eyes. She saw Spencer’s face soften at the broken sight of her.

The tears soon started falling freely from her eyes and onto her face. “I- um-“ She felt like her throat started to close in. “uh- e-excuse me” She let out a heavy sob as she ran to the bathroom. “W-wait, y/n- Y/N!” Spencer called, but she was already out of sight.

Spencer stood there in awe. He felt like he couldn’t move, like he was stuck in place. Like his feet had grown roots to the ground.

Just then, Penelope came out of her batcave. She was about to welcome the team back, when she saw the looks on their faces. “Hey g- what…happened? Are you guys ok? Reid? Where’s y/n?”

Everyone stayed silent for a minute. Then Emily spoke up, “Bathroom…” was all she was able to choke out, still in shock from Spencer’s hurtful words.

Penelope ran down past them, she knew something bad had happened, y/n was a strong woman…at least from the outside.

As Penelope approached the bathroom, she could hear a heavy sob come from the other side of the stall. “Y/n, honey? Can- can I come in?”

No response.

“Knock once if yes and- and twice for no.”

…*knock*

“Okay honey, I’m coming in, ok?” Garcia slowly opened the door, only to find a very disheveled y/n on the other side, sitting on the bathroom floor, crying her eyes out, head in her hands.

“Oh, y/n.” Penelope hugged her. They sat on the dirty floor for about 10 minutes before she asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/n slowly nodded her head. She proceeded to tell Penelope everything that happened, on the jet, everything Spencer had said to her.

Meanwhile, out in the bullpen, JJ was the first to talk. “Spence…how could you say something like that?”

“I-I…I don’t know…I don’t…I-I need to go.” He proceeded to scramble around to get his things, stuff them quickly inside his satchel, and run off to the elevators.

Y/n didn’t want to see anyone other than Penelope the rest of the day. She was too heartbroken. It was because, the truth was, she was in love with Spencer Reid. She had just admitted it to herself, knowing it wouldn’t go anywhere, because he obviously hated her. Obviously.

Right?

Right.

They both took the rest of the day off, which Hotch obviously allowed. They both headed back to Penelope’s apartment, which y/n intended to stay the night.

When Spencer arrived at his apartment, he didn’t bother to do anything except flop down on his bed, staring into space. He thought about his words, and how much he must have hurt her. How could he do that? How could he call that love? Seeing the tears in her eyes, it broke him. Truly. He thought about calling her, texting, anything, but he knew he would be the very last person she would want to show up on her phone screen.

He was right. He was the very last person she wanted to see. She was truly heartbroken. Her insecurities worsened that day, no matter how many mins words Penelope threw at her. The next morning, she drove back to her apartment.

As Spencer walked into work the next morning, two coffees in hand, planning to do his very best to apologize, but then the realization hit him.

Y/n wasn’t in today.

She was no where to be seen.

All day, he was distracted. Thankfully, it was only a paperwork day, but he was way too distracted nonetheless. Too full of guilt to concentrate. His co-workers avoiding him and giving him knowing glares was not helping either.

When the day finally came to an end, he was the first out of the glass doors, heading straight to y/n’s apartment. When he arrived, he ran up the stairs, panting, to her apartment door. He stood there for a good 15 seconds, contemplating, before he decided to go for it and knock.

“Penelope I already told you that I’m fine.”, he heard from inside. Just hearing her voice made him feel a little bit better, but now it was time for the hard part.

“Uh, i-it’s not Penelope…”, he said slowly from outside the door. He didn’t hear anything for a second, then, he heard some shuffling, and then the door knob opening from the other side. He saw her figure come into view, he saw how disheveled and broken she looked. Cheeks red and puffy with tears, hair dirty, she looked like she hadn’t showered. Another giant wave of guilt overtook him. This was all because of him. Her pain, caused by him.

Without undoing the chain on the door, she spoke softly, voice sounding like she was on the verge of tears. “Please go. I don’t want to talk to you.” Her voice breaking, he could see the tears building up and threatening to spill over the edge at the memory of yesterday.

“Please…give me a chance. To explain.”

“Why should I. What is there to explain, Reid? You think i’m disgusting and you always have, you just finally said it to my face like no one else it brave enough to do.”

His heart breaking more at her words, he finally spit it out.

“Because I’m in love with you, goddamnit!”

He saw the one visible eye he could see grow wide at his confession. She then closed the door, and right as he was about to give up, he heard the chain being undone from the other side of the door, the only thing separating him and the goddess of a woman he believed to be his soulmate.

The door then opened, making her whole body visible. With her mouth slightly agape, she moved over slightly so he could slide through the crack of the door.

“Is this some sick joke?,” she asked him, genuinely wondering. She didn’t exactly know how to react to this.

“Never. Never ever, y/n. I’ve realized I love you, I finally admitted it to myself. There is so much to love about you, one of them being your body. I love you so much, along with your body. You are so beautiful. Ethereal. I swear on my life I didn’t mean what I said. You are stunning, y/n. I’m so sorry no one ever gave you the love you deserve before. You are like a shot of espresso, bathed in sunlight. Like a goddess sent down from the heavens. Please. Please y/n, if you give me the chance, I will spend every waking moment of the rest of my life making it up to y-“ he was cut off. Cut off in the best way possible. One minute he’s ranting about how beautiful she is, and the next, she’s grabbing wither side of his face with her hands and pulling him in for an earth-shattering kiss. His lips on hers, only things he would dare dream about, things he never for a second expected to happen. But here he is, standing in the middle of her apartment, with their lips moving in sync like they were built for each other. Like they were grown from the same dirt. Meant for each other.

Soulmates.

She pulled away first, but only because she was out of breath. Still holding each other like if they let go, the other would fly away, he looked into y/n’s eyes. He didn’t see hatred, or loathing - what he saw in her eyes in that moment was pure love. Love for him.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

Those were the only words he had to hear. Even if he died right that second, he would die a happy man. Because she loved him. She loved him back. And she meant it.

“I-I want you to know that this doesn’t mean that I automatically forgive you…because what you said really hurt me. It really did. But, I think I’ll take you up in that making it up to me offer.” Now she was smiling up at him.

“Of course y/n. I didnt mean it, really. I will spend the rest of my life worshiping you and your body. Why? Because it’s what you deserve.”

He leaned down to connect their lips again, and in that moment, the both of them felt purely blissed-out. And they could live with that. Forever. Because they were forever.

Soulmates.

__________ __________ __________ ________

a/n: AHHH!!! First fic finished! If you read this i hope you enjoyed it😁😁<333

#criminal minds #spencer reid #penelope garcia #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x plus sized reader #x plus sized reader #spencer reid x y/n #angst #hurt/comfort #love #first fic #new writer

[omgreally]

Hi there!

Could I please make a little request for Din?

"I didn't know where else to go"

Thank you, hope you're doing ok today! ❤

Hey lovely! First off, I am SO SORRY this took so long. I know it's been months and I have nothing but terrible excuses. Hopefully this makes up for it at least a little?

Shelter M, Din Djarin/Smuggler F!Reader, 2.1k words Warnings: Angst, drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, swearing, Helmetless!Din, lil bit of making out, brief almost-but-not-quite questionable consent, unresolved sexual tension (but who knows, maybe I'll do a Part II?) Summary: Mando has nothing left, nowhere to go. Except to you.

He stands on your doorstep, a soaking wet mass of metal and muscle. The rain falls in rolling sheets, sliding through his hair, down the back of his neck, underneath his cloak and in shining rivulets over his Beskar breastplate.

Without the helm, the Mandalorian looks...smaller, somehow, deflated, but maybe that’s just the defeated look lurking in the dark space behind his eyes.

He looks drained. Empty.

It’s him, though - nobody can fake pure Beskar armor, much less the set he wears. It’s mirror-finish, reflecting your stunned expression in rain-blurred steel.

You open your mouth to say something, but fail to find the words. They all seem so inadequate to address Mando standing in front of you, maskless.

He’s not quite looking at you, his gaze alternating between the ground and somewhere beyond your left ear. You resist the urge to glance behind you, instead taking him in, cataloguing the changes since you last saw him.

It’s been months, but it usually is. His circuitous route of bounty hunting doesn’t intersect with your parts of the Rim very much, which is fine; this way your businesses don’t overlap. As a smuggler, you’re far too likely to be on the wrong end of a tracking fob, so you stay away and so does he.

Once, you were a useful connection. You’re not sure when you crossed the line into ‘ally’, much less ‘friend’. Yet here he is, staring at you through the pouring rain. Helmet off, tucked almost protectively underneath his arm.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” he says, dully, and his voice sounds so different yet familiar that you experience a sense of disorientation, of the planet’s surface tilting beneath your feet as you re-orient yourself to this strange new reality where the Mandalorian comes to you for help.

Once, you would have asked for credits first. Now, all you say as you recover from your shock is, “Are you all right?” He shakes his head mutely as you step back and allow him access into your planetside flat.

It’s small, so small that his arm brushes you as he steps over the threshold. You resist the odd urge to put a hand on his shoulder; you’ve never had to comfort him before, save for buying him a round at some space dive or other after a job gone bad. This is something different. This is something else entirely.

You don’t ask what happened. You doubt he’ll give you a straight answer anyway. And you don’t ask about the helmet. He takes a seat at the kitchenette counter and sets it down on the counter in front of him. The black, empty visor stares at you silently as you fetch a bottle of something cheap and strong and hand it to him, knowing he won’t need a glass.

Mando uncaps it and takes a long drag without a word. He makes a face - so strange to see the expressions that are usually hidden by the mask of the helmet - and suppresses a cough as he hands the bottle back to you. You shake your head and set it down next to the Beskar headpiece.

You’re not known for your empathy, and neither is he, so you settle on practicality which you know he appreciates. “Are you injured?” you ask, businesslike as you examine his face a little closer. There’s the bloom of a bruise on one temple, underneath the damp plaster of his dark hair.

“Not permanently,” he says, that trace of dry sardonicism that you usually find irresistibly hilarious now making you frown. “I’m fine,” he adds gruffly as he reads your expression. You huff, crossing your arms, but he says nothing more. Just picks up the bottle again and swigs with an audible “Ahh,” from his throat.

“Why are you here?” you ask, at last, after watching him drink for a minute in silence. Mando looks at you, at your eyes, and holds your gaze for a long, uncomfortable moment before he finally answers.

“I lost him.”

“The kid?” It feels like you’ve been hit, the air punched from your lungs. You assumed he was back on the Crest, asleep, not - gone.

You had only met the little gremlin twice, once when Mando needed fuel and ammo on the cheap, another for a place to lay low for a day or two. The weird green creature...grew on you, like a very cute fungus. His nonsensical babbling, insatiable appetite, and obvious love for the Mandalorian was infectious. You admit it; you were weak. You got fond. And, in turn, fonder of Mando himself.

And now…

“You found his people?” you manage, and it comes out in a croak. You clear your throat and Mando offers you the bottle. You take it, tossing your head back for a deep swig. It burns going down and warms the suddenly-cold cavity inside your chest.

“Yeah,” Mando says. “He’s...he’s safe, now.” The he was never safe with me is unspoken but you hear it anyway. You pass the bottle back to him.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and mean it. “I know...I know it was never a permanent arrangement, but he clearly meant a lot to you.”

“Yeah,” he says, looking down at his helmet before fitting the rim of the bottle to his lips, tossing his head back and draining the rest of its contents in several long gulps.

You watch the shape of his throat bob in his neck above the wet snarl of his cloak and look away quickly. A buzz is building in your veins already and he’s had most of the bottle - you’re surprised he’s still upright.

“You holing up in your junker tonight?” you wonder, after casting around for a change of subject. An expression of pain crosses Mando’s face, a grimace not caused by the alcohol, for just a second before it’s gone.

“The Crest is gone. Melted to slag and dust.” He says it without inflection, and that’s how you know it’s hurting him.

“Fuck,” you summarize elegantly. Mando nods.

“I haven’t got anything left,” he states. “No ship. No credits. No more favors to call in. Nothing.”

You reach out, more out of anger than anything else, and grab his hand, squeezing so tightly that the wet leather squelches. “Stop it,” you say harshly. “You have everything you need. You’re a kriffing Mandalorian.”

He snorts, pulling his hand away - with some effort. “Not anymore.” He stares down at his helmet, and beneath the scruff and fuzz and rain, his lips press together in a tight line.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I broke my Creed,” he shrugs, setting a hand atop the smooth dome of Beskar. “More than once. Didn’t matter at the time. All that mattered...was saving the kid. Making sure he was safe.”

“Mission fucking accomplished, then,” you say, shaking your head. “You pick yourself up. You rebuild. You move on.”

“How can I?” He meets your gaze, and you flinch at the dark intensity of his - something molten, furious there that you’re suddenly afraid of. You haven’t forgotten the promise of violence coiled in his every limb. “I have nothing to go back to. Nowhere to go. That’s why I’m here.” He waves a gloved hand with obvious disgust, and for some reason, that hurts, a sting behind your breastbone like something almost physical.

Mando must see the look on your face, for he wilts like damp lettuce. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine. I get it,” you say brusquely, your words clipped. You take the empty bottle from the counter, your fingers curling around the neck and squeezing, hard. “You come in here, beaten-up, drink my alcohol and drip all over my floors - but I’m the last place you’d go. I get it.”

He rises to his feet, and you forgot how tall he is, how broad. And despite - ormaybe because of - the unfamiliarity of his helmetless appearance, Mando is still intimidating. You don’t shrink back, though; you square your shoulders and your jaw and lift your chin in challenge.

“You’re the last person I’d put in danger,” he says in a low voice, a voice that stirs a strange sensation in the pit of your guts that you haven’t felt in a very, very long time.

“You forget what I do for a living?” you manage, your mouth suddenly dry. You swallow past it, tasting the aftertaste of alcohol and your own misplaced nervousness.

“I’ve been hunted from one end of the galaxy to the other,” he continues in that same husky baritone that makes your knuckles go white. “I wasn’t going to bring that down on you.”

“I appreciate that,” you manage, diplomatically - but he’s not having it, staring you down like his life depends on keeping eye contact. “But I’m a big girl. I can handle things myself.”

He looks you up and down - just once - but with such practiced ease that it makes you wonder how many times he’s done the same thing from beneath the visor. You shiver despite yourself.

“I know,” he says, and then before you can move or react or think, he lunges into your space and kisses you.

If you were shocked by Mando’s sudden appearance, you’re fucking floored by this. You don’t know how to react at first but he proves quickly to be competent enough at this to coax your lips apart with his and get you to kiss him back.

He tastes like a distant hint of blood and smoke and his body is solid as his arm snakes round your waist without you noticing and he pulls you to him. He holds you so that you’ll have to twist away to escape and with the confidence that says he knows you won’t want to. 

And you don’t.

Instead you let the bottle fall and it clatters forgotten to the ground as you grab him by the pauldrons and let him lick into your mouth with the answering surge of your tongue and your hips pressing to his.

Mando kisses you like he needs to, and you realize that he’s half-hard already, impatiently nudging a knee between your thighs and pressing you to the wall. You break from his mouth to breathe and wonder if he’s ever had anything but this - a wild, fervid fumble of hurriedly-parted clothes and tangled limbs.

You don’t want to be this for him - a receptacle for his despair, his rage. You have too much of your own to deal with. But you can’t deny that you’ve thought about this, imagined something similar to this very scenario - but you never counted on the weight of emotion that comes with it.

“Stop, Mando,” you say as he sucks bruises into your neck, the edges of his teeth making your breath catch on nothing. He goes still, but his hands are tight on your hips, holding you to him. You can feel his breath, heavy and warm in your ear.

“Not like this,” you tell him. “You can stay, but we’re not doing this. Not like this.”

At first you think he’s not going to let you go, and the thrill that passes through you from the thought is unconscionable. But then his grip loosens and his leg withdraws and he steps back, out of your space. You rub your face with hands you can’t admit are shaking before finally looking up at him.

He looks wrecked. Broken. Staring at the ground, damp hair hanging over his forehead, and you catch the trembling twitch of his bottom lip even as he ducks his head to try to hide it.

“You can take my bunk,” you tell him. “We’ll talk in the morning. Okay?”

For a second you think he’s going to argue, or just...walk out. Relief blooms in you as he nods. He turns without a word to retrieve his helmet before he retreats down the hall.

You watch him go, and the slump to his shoulders breaks your heart. But he’s staying, and that’s something.

You never thought you’d have a broken Mandalorian sleeping in your bunk. 

And you’re not sure if you regret the fact that you’re not there next to him.

#request #din djarin/f!reader #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #mando/you #mando/reader #mando/f!reader #mando x you #din djarin x you

[johnkrrasinski]

baby, just say yes

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 3,324

Warning: fluff!! pure feelings, inaccurate depiction of middle-age relationships (?)

Summary: inspired by taylor swift’s “love story” and a bit of bridgerton. james barnes was the son of your father’s rival. what happens when two star-crossed lovers fell in love? will their love conquer their families’ bad blood?

a/n: in honour of taylor releasing re-recorded version of love story, i wanted to write something inspired by it because i’m a sucker for fairytales (HA!) i wanted to post this on valentine’s day but it turned out to be longer than i planned. also, bridgerton might have influenced some of my writing. so enjoy! reblogs and comments are always appreciated. :)

The party was in full swing as the music enlivened the masquerade revellers in ball gowns and fancy suits. You stepped into the party in your best dress with your hair half pinned up in braids. You wore your fulgent jewellery proudly, not caring what anyone thought of your confidence. As the daughter of an aristocratic family, you never once had to worry about fortune or popularity. Your father was a powerful man and everyone knew and worshipped the ground you walked on. But really, you were smart enough to know that these people were merely a bunch of bootlickers. They wished to get close to you for your wealth and repute.

The ball that was held by your father bored you. You never really liked any of his associates. You were a naturally an introvert, you preferred to be alone in your room and read books or be with your dog. However, keeping up a good appearance, well your father’s appearance, was necessary to maintain the family’s name. So you had no choice but to get up, get ready and show your face.

You greeted one of your cousins, Bella, who had come all the way from France. She looked dazzling as always. She hoped to meet a rich husband in one of these balls, but none of them had been captivated by her enough to get down on one knee. Somehow, they always turned their heads to you even when you never displayed any interest in marrying any time soon.

People were chatting, laughing and drinking left and right, some were on the hunt for a match. A few men had come up to you and asked for a dance, you always came up with a reason to dodge them. So you ran to the nearest table to get a glass of champagne. A bit of alcohol could soothe your nerves.

And then, as if the world stopped moving and time froze. A man with short dark hair and navy blue velvet suit made an entrance to the ball. He folded his hands behind him and his walk displayed confidence and power. You couldn't see his entire face for he was wearing a mask but even with only half of his face was shown, you could already tell how handsome he was. The scruff on his lower face added to his sex appeal and there was a mysterious way about him.

He walked further into the ball until his eyes found yours, and it was like the butterflies in your stomach had been possessed. He boldly made his way towards you until you were standing face to face. You could make out his features more clearly now from this proximity. You couldn't help but instantly noticed his eyes; how translucent it was, not only in the colour but also the way it spoke to your soul wordlessly. And the blue in them made you think that God created him and inspired the ocean to seize the colour. And his smell was intoxicating. He had a masculine scent to him, filling up your thoughts with obscene scenarios. It piqued your curiosity about the man behind the mask.

You were a respected woman despite your age. Not only because of your family’s power but also because you carved out your image as this ‘untouchable, implausible’ lady to any man. It would take a true magnetic man to charm you and so far, you haven't crossed paths with one yet…. Until tonight.

He broke the silence first by greeting you, “hello there, milady. Quite a warm night, isn’t it?” Oh, how his voice was making you feel things you’d never felt before. Is this what love at first sight felt like?

“Yes, milord. It truly is.” You replied in a calm manner despite the hurricane inside you.

The orchestras began playing a lively tune, inviting men and women to pair up and dance. He held out his hand for you, “may I have this dance, milady?”

He led you to the centre of the ballroom. He stood in line with other men facing their partners. They bowed their heads and so did you with other women. They held out their hands for their partners to take and began putting their hands on their partners’ shoulders and waists.

You held your breath as he laid his hand on your skin, closing the distance between the two of you. He began to take the lead as your feet were moving in sync, trying not to step on him. You had taken dancing classes before but you almost never danced in the ballroom, so you were a little nervous about forgetting the lessons you had learned in front of this beautiful man.

“I never caught your name, milady.”

“I never caught yours either.” You snarked.

“I asked you first, milady,” the smirk on his face showed his amusement.

You chuckled, “My name’s y/n.”

“Such a lovely name for a lovely lady.”

“Oh, please. Cut the coquetry, milord. Plenty of men have told me that before.”

“Oh, have they?”

The choreography made you switch partners and you danced with this stranger. He looked delighted to have a chance with you but you merely smiled politely at him, until they switched back to your previous partners.

“Did that man tell you the same thing?”

“No, but I could tell from his expression that if we had danced a little longer, he would’ve found a synonymous flattery for me.”

“Are you used to having men throw themselves at your feet?”

“Yes, milord. I eat it for breakfast.”

You danced with him a little bit more until he spoke a hushed tone, “this party bores me. Would you like to meet me in the garden once this dance is over?”

“That would be splendid.”

The dance was finished and you bowed to each other and he kissed your gloved hand. “I’ll see you in the garden in 10 minutes.” He walked past by you, brushing your shoulder with his. You turned your head in his direction, deciding whether you should hold onto your words or not. But without much thinking, you took a glass of champagne and then snuck out, avoiding your parents’ scrutiny.

You found him standing there with his hands behind his back in the middle of the garden where flowers surrounded him, making the sight seem romantic. “Are you expecting someone, milord?”

“Not anymore,” he smiled. “I’ve persuaded you into a clandestine meeting, seems like I am winning the game.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, milord. I sneak out to the garden every day. Which reminds me, I didn’t quite catch your name back there.”

“My name’s James, milady. But, you may call me Bucky.”

Your furrowed your brows in a questioning look, “Bucky?”

“Yes. My mother bestowed me that nickname and the people that are closest to me call me Bucky.”

“Hm, is this another of your flattery that I get to call you ‘Bucky’?

“Yes, milady. I don’t take a lot of women to the gardens as well, so you could say you’re pretty special.”

“Let’s see how tonight goes and I will know.”

You and James talked some more. He told you stories about his family and you told him about yours. He also opened up about how his mother died. Though he looked dejected while telling stories about her, most of the times he was charming, with and clever, making you feel at ease in his company. You had met plenty of men but none of them had made you feel as comfortable as James did. He made you laugh several times with his jokes and you exchanged thoughts about social issues such as marriage, love, children with him. You always thought you’d never marry or perhaps you’d marry in your thirties or forties but it seems as if your heart is tossing away those ideas.

You were really enjoying your time with him that there was a moment where it was just the crickets and your soft breaths. You laid your head on his shoulder as his warmth engulfed you. You nearly fell asleep until the voice of your father disrupted your moment. “Y/N!” The sounds of footsteps were approaching and then your father’s incensed face came to view. “Y/N! What do you think you are doing?!”

“Father, calm down, I was merely promenading with James.”

“Milord, forgive me. I asked for your daughter to meet me in this garden. Please, don’t rebuke her.”

“You shut your mouth, young man. I know who you are and I would never let you lay a hand on my daughter, ever again. You should be ashamed o yourself.”

“Father, what are you so furious about?”

“Don’t you know who he is, y/n?!”

“No, who is he?” You looked at James then back to your father. James looked shocked at the intrusion.

“He is the son of that bastard, George Barnes. I had told you many stories about the lies and betrayals they did years ago. I would never forget them.” Your father enunciated those words as he stared into James’ eyes.

“Is that true?”

James looked doubtful, “yes.”

You felt dizzy. The first man that had truly captured your heart was the son of your families’ number one rival. It was as if the world didn’t like the idea of you finding love.

“Y/N, I swear, on my mother’s grave that I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were-”

“You stay away from my daughter! Do you hear me? If I ever see you anywhere near her, I will kill you with my own hands.” You father grabbed your hand then dragged you back to your carriage where your mother had been waiting for you both.

You tried to free yourself out of your father’s grip but it was to no avail. You looked back at James who was still standing there one last time before the carriage took you away. You cried all the way home.

-

It’s been three days since the debacle in the garden. You didn’t regret one thing about your feelings, but you blamed the universe for the circumstances. Out of all the people in the world, why must the man that you’d been waiting for was the one you couldn’t be with?

You missed James. You missed the warmth of being in his arms, the gentleness in his eyes and the way his voice soothed you. You wanted to see him more than anything but since that night, you begged your parents to let you see James, you fought tooth and nail to make your father change his mind, but all you got was being locked in your room after you threatened them to run away from home. They even went as far as hiring a guard to stand in front of your bedroom all day.

You sat by your window, looking up at the moon in your nightgown, wondering if James was thinking of you too until your reverie was disrupted by a knocking sound on your window. You instantly looked down to see what was the cause and the sight before you blew away the dark clouds above your head. James Barnes was standing below, with pebbles in his hand.

He smiled when you saw your face and you opened your windows, “James! What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, of course. Are you able to come down?”

“I’ll try, but be quite okay? Don’t let anyone see you.”

You opened the lock of your door as quietly as possible. It was nearing 2 AM and the guard was snoring in his seat. You minded your steps like a ninja, not wanting to cause any noise. You held your breath when he stirred in his sleep but he thankfully he didn’t wake up. So you sprinted downstairs under the darkness of your mansion.

You quietly unlocked the door of the main entrance and immediately ran to the backyard, where James was waiting for you.

“James!” You shrieked. The joy in his face was palpable, so did yours. You ran to him, lifting your nightgown so you wouldn’t stumble and jumped on him and he caught you.

“I’ve missed you, princess,” James whispered breathily while hiding his face in your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too. How did you know where I live?”

“I got connections. I’ve spent the last three days endlessly thinking of you.”

“I haven’t thought of anything else other than you too, James.”

He smiled then kissed you deeply, pouring all his longing in the last three days for you.

James took you to the outskirts of the town and you walked hand in hand, wandering around in the night. You talked about the history of your families and how your father wouldn’t let you go out alone knowing that you would try to see him and he told his father about you and what went down in the garden. You sighed, knowing that there was no chance for you and James to be together but then a fleeting thought came.

“Let’s run away,” you recklessly uttered.

“What?” James heard every word you said, he was just taken aback by what it meant.

“Let’s just… Get out of here. We can leave at midnight, I’ll pack up my things and we can be together.”

“Y/N, we can’t.”

“Why?” You were exasperated. “Don’t you wanna be with me, James?”

“I do, however, I can’t do that to you, my love. It’s too dangerous. Your father is a powerful man, I can’t imagine what he would do to us both if he found out.”

“We can, we just have to be careful! C’mon James, I’ve felt so alone my whole life until I met you. I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

“You won’t, darling. I promise you. I’ve got plans, okay? You just need to trust me.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

-

It had been a week since you last saw James and you were losing faith every day. You had no clue of what James was planning to do. You trusted him but you wished he had been more clear of his intentions. Now, all you could do was wait for him in silence, unable to do anything, like a kite in the wind.

“You haven’t touched your food, dear. Is everything alright?” Your mother asked from across the dining table.

“Yes, mother. I am simply not famished.”

“Eat some of your food, will you? I’d hate to see you ill.”

You wished you could sneak behind your father to vent to your mother about your feelings for James, however, you knew that your mother was loyal to your father and there was no secret between them. You used to hope that one day if you’d ever find a husband, you would have the same foundation in your marriage as your parents had, now you would be delighted if they announced their divorce so you could be free from your father.

The majordomo interrupted your dinner by informing that you had a couple of guests. By the look on your father’s face, you could tell that he wasn’t expecting any tonight, but he got up to welcome whoever was waiting outside anyway.

You heard your father’s booming voice from the dining table and you and your mother exchanged glances. You instantly followed him to see what was going on.

“You dare to show your face here after I’ve warned you of staying away from my family!”

And you stopped in your tracks when you saw James standing next to an older man facing your father. “James…”

“Y/N…” Without a second thought, you ran to him, wanting to hold and kiss him more than anything. For a second there, you forgot everyone was watching. But your father caught you and your guard held you back.

“Let go of me!”

“Now I want you out of my land and never to return or there will be a huge consequence.”

“I am here to make peace. My son told me about your daughter and I wasn’t keen on the idea of uniting our families but I am willing to try for him. Let’s end this bad blood between us, Robert. We shall not let our children suffer simply because of our pride.”

“I’d rather die than to let my your bastard of a son touch my daughter.” Your father gritted through his teeth. “Now leave or you will be removed forcibly.” Your father turned around but before he could close the door on them, James stopped him.

“I’m in love with your daughter, Sir Y/L/N.” That stopped your father in his tracks. “I have met many women yet, I have never felt this way for anyone,” James gazed into your eyes.

“In the last two weeks I have known her, I have learned that you raised a bright, courageous, loving, beautiful woman,” he paused, as if he was trying to show you the sincerity behind his confession. You didn’t realize tears have welled up in your eyes.

“From the very moment I saw her in that ball, I knew I’d live in regret if I didn’t catch her name before I leave. Your daughter stood out like a diamond in the dirt and it was an honour to held her hand while dancing. It was an honour knowing her. And it would be an honour to have her by my side until the end of my life,” He paused. “I know I am undeserving of your daughter but I will never let her doubt that she is loved and she deserves everything good I could offer.”

A single tear cascaded down your cheek. “So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He moved closer toward you, and your father was left speechless by James’ words. James got down on his knee and presented a velvet box with a gleaming diamond ring inside it.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, thousand times yes.” James put the ring on your finger and you jumped on him and he caught you. For a minute there you forgot that there was still an unresolved animosity between your families, though your mother had a huge smile on her face and she nearly teared up at the sight of her daughter being so in love. George Barnes was smiling ear to ear as well, looking so proud of his son.

He thought that with his son’s reputation of being a rake, he would never settle. But he finally found his match and though he didn’t take it so pleasantly at first, James talked it out to him and George learned to be happy and accept it. George recalled the moment he fell in love with Winnifred, she didn’t come from an aristocratic family. She was merely a singer and his family didn’t approve but he opposed them and married her anyway until they had James. George also hoped that their marriage could end the bad blood between him and your father.

James set you back on the floor and you looked at your father. “Father? I love him and I may never fall in love again. Please, let me be with him. If you love me, you won’t stand in the way.” Your father was baffled, but the resentment in his eyes had softened. “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life waiting for me to find someone to marry and keeping enemies? I’m marrying him whether you approve or not. But I wouldn’t want you to be absent from my wedding.”

Your father sighed, “are you happy?”

“More than I have ever been.”

“Then I suppose, I shall put my pride aside for the one person I love the most in the world.”

“Thank you, father.” You hugged him and he kissed the top of your head.

You grew up being cynical toward fairytales, but for once in your life, you believe that you have found your fairytale ending.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes medieval au #bucky barnes royal au #bucky barnes royalty au #prince!bucky #romeo and juliet au #romeo & juliet

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 296: Ngl, This One Pissed Me Off

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all, “p.s. I actually activated yet another quirk several chapters ago when Kacchan got stabbed.” Compress was all, “[gets captured and passes out].” Spinner was all “[rifles through Tomura’s pockets and slaps a random Charbroiled Hand onto his friend’s unconscious face].” Tomura was all, “SOMEHOW THAT ACTUALLY WORKED” and woke up again, except it wasn’t really him, it was everyone’s favorite Final Villain, AFO. AFO was all, “time to escape finally” and summoned a bunch of Noumu and Absconded with Spinner and the DabiMarble in tow. Skeptic was all, “Horikoshi forgot I existed, but I’m actually Absconding in marble-form as well.” Deku was all, “ATTENTION WORLD, I WOULD LIKE TO ANNOUNCE THAT I OFFICIALLY WANT TO SAVE SHIGARAKI TOMURA.” And then the arc just sort of ended lol.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all, “but when you think about it, do we really need literally any female teachers at U.A. at all?” and for whatever reason doesn’t stop to wait for an answer. Midnight, who absolutely did not need to die, Dies, and I’m pissed about it. Ochako wanders the ruins of Jakku for what feels like hours, rescuing small children while her adult hero compatriots fall to pieces around her, because apparently the U.A. kids really are the only people who have their shit together. The citizens of Japan are all “damn that’s wild, wonder how fucked we are now,” but are actually super casual and chill about it which is oddly realistic. The chapter ends with AFO in Tartarus being all “lol time for the prison break arc,” without giving us so much as a chance to catch our breath, like holy shit. Are we on the clock or something now, goddamn.

lmao it’s like 7pm on a Sunday night and this is out already. this is like the worst possible timing lol. there goes my nice, relaxed evening. unless of course this turns out to be a nice, restful, soothing chapter, as chapters coming on the heels of traumatic, earth-shattering battles so often are. yeah, break out the Pina Colada song and the little drink umbrellas, I got a good feeling about this one

(ETA: I mean, I was obviously being sarcastic here but damn, Horikoshi.)

-- fff why did I laugh

it’s the crumbling city ruins in the background that really does it, I think. JUST LOOK AT THIS MESS THAT YOU HAVE MADE, EVERYONE. FOR SHAME

also, the title is dramatic af and I am so fucking excited you guys, like holy shit. BnHA’s In-Between arcs have always been my favorite part of the series, because it’s when all the character development and angst and/or catharsis happens. just, those little breathing spaces in between the action when everyone gathers to recuperate and compartmentalize their fresh new traumas lmao. bring on that angst!! but also, let’s please have some Comfort to offset all of this Hurt too, please and thanks

blah blah blah so the survivors were evacuated, good good, can you actually show us though?

AHHHHHHH

PIXIE BOB SURVIVED!!!! WASH IS STILL ALIVE LMAO HOW. THIRTEEN’S FACE, OMG SHOULD I LOOK AWAY. IS IT LIKE MANDALORIAN RULES. IDK HOW IT WORKS

HOW THE FUCK ARE THEY ALIVE. LOLS ANYWAY I’M HERE FOR IT. FEEL FREE NOT TO KILL ANYONE ELSE HERE HORIKOSHI, I THINK WE’RE GOOD

(ETA: it’s like talking to a brick wall.)

oh my god do we really need exposition about how the heroes tried to stop TomurAFO from escaping and OF COURSE failed completely because they suck lmao. oh my god I am shocked, that is such shocking news

wow they only managed to defeat three of the Noumus. holy shit. again, all of the Not-Kid Heroes are only slightly more useful than cardboard cutouts of heroes at this point, MORE AT ELEVEN

so Tomura may have lost the PLF, but he still more or less has an army then, huh. I really don’t know how anyone could expect a timeskip with that threat looming over everyone’s heads

oh nvm lol there are only seven Noumus left. wait so you’re telling me there were only ten Nearly High Ends in that last chapter?? felt more like fifty but whatever lol I’ll take your word for it

COMPRESS YAY YOU’RE ALIVE TOO

MAYBE THEY CAN EVEN REATTACH HIS ASS. I’M SERIOUS LOL, BECAUSE HE STILL HAS IT, DOESN’T HE? OR IF NOT, THEY CAN REBUILD HIM WITH A PROSTHETIC ASS. he’ll be more powerful than ever

WHAAAAAAT YEAH BOIIIII

WOOO, EDGESHOT, WOOOOO. THAT’S HIS WAY OF THE NINJA

YEAHHHHH SUCK IT, PLF

(ETA: for the record I don’t think Cementoss is dead here, just badly wounded. if he had died he would have been included in the forthcoming In Memoriam page along with the others.)

GET BENT LOL. TRUMPET I FOR REAL FORGOT YOU EVEN EXISTED. I NEVER WANT TO SEE ANY OF YOU LOSERS AGAIN PLEASE. ONLY INTERESTING CHARACTERS MAY PROCEED PAST THIS POINT

dsflksaldkh;l

that’s... holy shit. that’s a bigass mansion, that’s what that is. also so does this mean there are still eighty thousand PLF members still at large, because that’s a plot line I very much do not care about in any way whatsoever lol. can’t we just retcon to say that Re-Destro was exaggerating? I mean hell, a CEO criminal pulling some Enron-type bullshit is pretty believable, isn’t it? those poor bamboozled shareholders

“makeste, here’s an idea, what if you scrolled down to read the rest of the page” lol gtfo of here with your logic and your sense

well those 132 people have made it onto my enemies list, but at least it sounds like they more or less took care of the rest. good riddance

and Toga escaped, as we knew already, and is now on the lam. hopefully she reunites with the League again at some point. although her doing her own thing could also be very interesting. idk what I want lol

anyway so there’s another big panel showing how fucked up the city is, just in case it hadn’t already been hammered into our skulls yet. there’s a car dangling off a roof somehow. how does that even happen. did Machia pick it up and put it there or

NOOO OMG RANDOM SMALL CHILDREN IN PERIL WHAT IS THIS

OCHAKO PLEASE SAVE THEM OMG

“if it falls on me, I want you to have my Endeavor pouch” OH MY STARS. HIS MOST PRECIOUS POSSESSION. NO MY CHILD YOU CAN’T GIVE UP HOPE YET

LMAO

“FOR THE LAST TIME NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOUR DUSTY-ASS POUCH, KYLE” fffff these children are dying and I am cracking up so hard my eyes are tearing up what is wrong with me

YAY THEY SAVED THEM

but listen. not that I don’t love seeing the girls kick ass, because you know I do. but I also really, REALLY need to know what’s going down with the Musketeers, and I’m not looking forward to waiting three whole weeks for that so please Horikoshi. please hurry this along so we can get to them

goddamn it Tsuyu is saying she’ll take the boy to the shelter to get first aid, and I was all “okay great because that’s probably where Kacchan and the others are too”, but now someone else is shouting for help and Ochako’s all “I’ll go” and it’s like OKAY BUT PLEASE? this chapter is already more than half over omfg. ‘bout to start wringing some hands here

oh my god

is this Toga again??? WHAT THE HELL, THIS CREEPYASS HALF-DEAD DUDE BETTER BE LEADING UP TO SOMETHING INTERESTING, I AM REALLY GETTING IMPATIENT

OR, I GUESS, WE COULD DO THIS INSTEAD

“SO AS IT TURNS OUT, NOT EVERY CHARACTER WHO NEEDS HELP SAVING THEIR SPOUSE FROM FALLEN RUBBLE IS ACTUALLY TOGA IN DISGUISE” HUH, OKAY. DULY NOTED. FILED AWAY FOR FUTURE REFERENCE

but fucking... okay, look. I love Ochako, I do. but I like her a whole lot more when she’s interacting with other characters I actually care about, as opposed to running around in the rubble rescuing random people while the fate of my other children is still up in the air. like okay, I get it, shit’s bad, now if you don’t mind we really don’t have to spend all day here though

...anyways but nope, we’re still staying with her. she’s bouncing around rescuing all of these other people. omg. I literally have no patience here at all and it’s terrible, I know, but oh my god

omg finally something interesting is happening!!

look at that, an adult hero standing around being useless while the kids are busy getting shit done. why is this becoming a recurring theme

MY DUDE, THIS IS SERIOUSLY NOT THE TIME THOUGH

I GET THAT IT’S OVERWHELMING AND THAT YOU’RE TRAUMATIZED AND SHIT, BUT GUESS WHAT, SO IS EVERYONE ELSE. THAT’S WHAT YOU SIGNED UP FOR. JUST LOOK AT OCHAKO! SHE’S SO EXHAUSTED HER HAIR HAS EVEN LOST ITS FLOOF, AND YET SHE’S STILL OUT HERE DOING HER BEST. ONE SAVE AT A TIME MY MAN. GET IT DONE. LITERALLY A SMALL CHILD IN THE BOTTOM RIGHT CALLING FOR THEIR MOMMY AND YOU’RE JUST STANDING THERE ALL “WAHH IT’S TOO MUCH” LIKE COULD YOU PLEASE POSTPONE YOUR CRISIS UNTIL AFTER YOU SAVE THEM PLEASE

OH MY GOD

MAYBE YOU SHOULD!! oh my god I really cannot, like wow. oh no I actually have to save people and do my job, god forbid. jesus christ, at least the other heroes tried. but Moping Hero: Bellyache here is just throwing in the towel and fuck everyone who still needs his help I guess. you are like the anti-Deku my dude

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD NO OH FUCK

THAT’S MIDNIGHT’S HAND OH FU -- SHE BETTER NOT -- HORIKOSHI I SWEAR TO GOD --

I’M GONNA LOSE IT I REALLY AM!!!!

HOLY SHIT HOW INTENSE OF A RAGE DO I NEED TO BRACE MYSELF TO BE FEELING HERE. THIS CHAPTER WAS ALREADY TRENDING TOWARDS DISAPPOINTMENT, DO WE REALLY NEED TO GO AND COMPOUND THAT

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

you’re telling me Tomura wasn’t brought back by that electric shock, but by his “fuck you” attitude? why are you explaining this to us now, again??

......

HEY, SO UM, FUCK ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS, THOUGH. (: OH MAN. OHHHHHH MAN. I HAVE... I HAVE GOT A LOT OF WORDS FOR THIS AND HERE ARE SOME OF THEM

FUCK

THINGS THAT SHOULD BE IN THE DICTIONARY NEXT TO “SOME BULLSHIT”: THIS

FUCK

GET FUCKED HORIKOSHI

AND ALSO PLEASE FUCK RIGHT OFF!!

AND SERIOUSLY THOUGH FUCK YOU

NO BUT YOU KNOW WHAT THOUGH!! YOU COULD HAVE KILLED OFF ANYONE. LITERALLY ANY CHARACTER. YOU HAD TWELVE FEMALE PROS. TWELVE. YOU COULD HAVE MADE MORE OF THEM. PROBABLY, IF THERE ACTUALLY WERE SUPERHEROES IN REAL LIFE, THERE WOULD BE MORE THAN TWELVE OF THEM IN AN ENTIRE NATION. BUT NO, YOU WERE ALL “TWELVE IS MORE THAN ENOUGH.” AND THEN WHEN IT CAME TIME TO KILL PEOPLE OFF, YOU WERE ALL “WELL ALL RIGHT THEN, LET’S SEE, I PICK... THESE 18 RANDOM SIDE CHARACTERS WITH LITTLE TO NO DIALOGUE, PLUS THE ONE SINGLE FEMALE U.A. STAFF MEMBER WE ACTUALLY HAD. YEAH THAT OUGHTA DO IT”

AND BY THE WAY, HORIKOSHI, I PICKED SOMETHING UP FOR YOU ON MY WAY HOME, HERE IT IS, ┌П┐(・＿・) do you like it it was on sale. I saw it and was like, “Horikoshi would really like that.” so there you go. sorry it wasn’t gift-wrapped

p.s. I hope y’all can tell that that’s supposed to be a middle finger and not... something else lmao. er. anyway

(ETA: so I got a few asks from people who were really put off by this part of the reaction post, and so I’m just adding an extra note here to make it clear that I do not actually wish harm on Horikoshi in any way or even particularly dislike him. I wasn’t happy about Midnight’s death and I wanted to convey that, and so I went with my usual LOUD CAPSLOCK REACTION tone, but looking back on it I can see that it’s kind of a lot, lol. 

so just to be clear, the “fuck you” stuff is almost entirely tongue-in-cheek. that’s on me, I forget sometimes that there are people who share these sentiments unironically and so I didn’t think to make sure my intended meaning here was clear. anyways, killing Midnight was still a really problematic decision for numerous reasons but it is what it is. Horikoshi is not perfect, the story isn’t perfect, and I’m not gonna pretend like it is, but again just to be clear, I don’t harbor any actual ill will toward Horikoshi here.)

shit. and wow this man really went and killed off fucking Mystic too on top of that. have you ever seen a character fail so spectacularly at living up to their hype. r.i.p. Mystic you were like the Star Wars sequel of characters

(ETA: I have no fucking idea why I keep thinking Majestic’s name is Mystic lol. rest in peace you old scarecrowy bastard.)

and poor Momo, though. fuck. lost two mentors in a single day. and do not even get me started on Aizawa holy shit

so now we’re cutting to some random townspeople who are gossiping about the Todoroki drama. this is actually interesting in spite of my newfound determination to hate this chapter lol

ngl I am kind of heartened to see that not everyone fell for Dabi’s bs hook line and sinker though. Jeanist returning from the dead literally two seconds after Dabi was all “I SWEAR ON MY HONOR AS A VILLAIN THAT HAWKS MURDERED HIM” probably helped with that a bit! but there will doubtless be many other people who do believe him, or are at least still inclined to side-eye the heroes in general either way given how much they sucked in this arc. very, very interesting

so it seems though that even more than the whole Endeavor reveal, at the end of the day it’s going to be the heroes failing to live up to their end of the “put your faith in us and let us use our quirks and in return we’ll protect everyone and keep them safe” implied social contract that’s going to have the biggest impact on people’s opinions moving forward. basically this was always going to be a disaster no matter what

OH MY GOD FINALLY AHHHHH

Horikoshi really tapped into some of the real-life political energy of the past few years huh. Fuck Him Still for killing off Midnight, but I will admit that so far this is hella intriguing and I am really, really curious to see where things go from here

OH MY GOD THE LITTLE KIDS FROM THE BABYSITTING ARC

“FIVE PEEPEE MAN WOULDN’T LIE TO US” YES CHILDREN YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT. at least the little ones still have faith

UM

 ( •̀ へ •́  )

that’s great. that’s really keen. all we need right now, amirite

GOOD FOR YOU, YOU PIECE OF SHIT

let’s just wait for him to explain what he feels. you know he likes to drag it out

is that Dabi crouched down there next to Spinner? looks like they got him out of the marble after all. but why has his hair changed colors again lol what

anyways. your turn to what??

:’) excuse me what

hahahaha are you fucking kidding me. and that’s where we’re going to end the chapter then. lol okay

so let’s recap. Midnight died. we spent ten hours watching Ochako dig people out of rubble for no apparent reason and were then introduced to my new least favorite character, and because Ochako is so nice she didn’t even punch him in the face even though she really should have. we did not get any Kacchan or Shouto. we got one panel of Deku, who is Finally Asleep. and the chapter ended with AFO ordering his Noumus to go set free, AND I QUOTE, HIS “MAIN BODY.” and now I gotta wait an entire week for Caleb’s translation to confirm that last part. omg

but it sounds like a prison break is imminent, which is very, very interesting. ...and actually, is it weird that I’m actually rooting for it to be a success? I have no idea what this guy is planning, but I do know that as long as the main part of his soul is still residing in Tomura’s body, Tomura’s chance of surviving the series is close to zero. and villain though he may be, I’m still rooting for his redemption (nice to have Deku on my side now too), and so yeah. so like if AFO feels like using some latent Exorcism Quirk or something that he’s been saving for just such an occasion, be my guest lol

meanwhile this doesn’t bode well for All Might though. or anyone else aside from Tomura, really. shiiiit

anyway. [slaps roof of chapter] this baby can fit so much bullshit in it

#bnha 296 #midnight (bnha) #uraraka ochako #all for one #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #sorry this took so long to post lol #I really need to learn to add an extra 2-3 hours to any time-sensitive estimates I make #anyways

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

So, wait, toes Remus know that Virgil is a dragon too?? if he does, did Virgil tell him or did he just figure it out?

It wasn’t too long after their escape from the prison complex that Remus got irritated.

He didn’t regret dragging the strange assassin along — after all, Remus probably wouldn't have been able to escape without him — but he was getting more and more frustrated with his lack of response to...well, anything.

Remus has attempted more than once to scare and/or gross the stranger out with diatribes of gore and violence, but that hasn't phased him at all. Really, Remus thinks he probably should have expected that response from a dark-elven warrior, but it was a little jarring to have his usual monologues accepted with little more than a cursory glare. It didn't help that he had to speak to the soldier in the goblin language, which neither of them knew well enough to share many complex ideas.

Then, there were his rages. Remus wasn't really himself in that state, and he knew he was quite the sight to those who had never heard of a barbarian. He's pretty sure that if he had some foggy awareness of the assassin being disgusted or even mildly intrigued by his berserk mode, he would have remembered them. As it stands, nothing.

Then, there was his trump card: The first time Remus let out his true form and went berserk on a few guards, the assassin barely even noticed the difference. Remus dismissed it at the time, assuming they had just been busy doing their thing and hadn’t seen him do it. But, as they were sneaking away from the castle spires the next day and he had to dispose of some noble-looking witnesses, Remus definitely saw the assassin look at his wings.

Still he made absolutely no reaction! He doesn’t seem to react to much of anything, unless he’s being mad at Remus for yelling too loud or missing a swing. Admittedly, being able to spark annoyance in the stuck-up soldier is a little fun, but even his moments of anger are few and far between.

This is the first and only time someone has seen Remus’s kick-ass undead angel wings and not had a damn thing to say about it, and Remus can honestly say he hates it.

So, now that they’re finally outside of the Colony walls (and Remus doesn’t have to worry about the assassin chewing him out for making a scene,) Remus smirks deviously at the unsuspecting drow.

“Hey! Watch this,” Remus shouts, then closes his eyes to focus.

He reaches deep inside himself to connect with that boiling mass of discordant energy — a frothing core of divine light that’s spoiling rotten and necrotic, burning away the mold, healing, and then spoiling again, over and over with each beat of his two hearts. As he’s practiced ever since he was a child, Remus grabs that energy and pulls it out, dismissing a weight in his stomach that he hardly notices until it's time to let go.

The instinctual protective glamor that hides his true form dissolves in the firelight of his true essence, as bone-like angel wings, void-like eyes, and a tidal wave of smoke pour out of Remus like air from a popped balloon. A sickly green glow outlines his irises, his scars, and emblazons the emblem of a sword over his chest. He can feel it as the energy unfurls, how the world spins and sears into focus, how his senses grow sharp and breathing is suddenly so much easier than it’s ever been before. This is what he truly is, how he really looks, and it is a figure that strikes fear and awe in every creature who has the misfortune of seeing it.

All except one. Apparently.

The assassin simply stares at Remus, stone-still as Remus’s whole fucked up magical girl cutscene plays out point-blank in front of him. The fear-inducing necrotic gas rolls past the assassin's feet and into his lungs, but nothing happens. A few seconds pass, and he still hasn’t moved, but he’s clearly not gone into shock or anything of the kind.

Eventually, the assassin gets the impression that Remus is expecting a response. So, he cocks his hip out to one side and folds his arms, mimicking the facial expression that he’s gathered humans make when they’re confused: a pointed eyebrow raise.

(Given his usual glowering expression, it comes across more like sass.)

The minute passes, and though Remus feels the smoke dissipate and his eyes and scars return to normal with a sinking feeling in his gut, the wings remain. Instead of dismissing them, Remus throws his arms out wide with a growl,

“Seriously? That’s it? You’re not scared!”

“Scared?” The assassin parrots lowly.

A wide smile stretches across his lightly-freckled face. In the space of a blink he’s behind Remus, gently peeling the barbarian’s tattered shirt away to get a better look at the base of his wings.

He lays one ice-cold hand against the divot between them, touching him clinically, like he’s trying to figure out how solid Remus's wings are. His hand smooths gently across the stump where flesh gives way to semi-transparent bone before Remus's brain catches up. He shrieks and jumps away from him,

“What the shit are you doing?!” Remus squeaks, eyes wide as saucers. He would be more embarrassed by how absolutely unthreatening he sounds right now if he didn’t still feel the shape of that hand on him like a brand.

(He decides that this is more because of the supernatural nature of his wings, and not because Remus hasn't been touched that carefully by another person since he was like eleven. He doesn’t have time to unpack that feeling whatsoever.)

“You told me to look.” The assassin teases, openly laughing at Remus’s expense.

Then, — and Remus could swear he’s doing it slowly just to make sure Remus sees him — the soldier takes a deep exhale, and his purple eye flashes a soft glow. Suddenly, his body evaporates until he is a cloud of shadowy smoke. This smoke quickly blends in with the surrounding darkness of the cavern, and before Remus can get a word in edgewise, the assassin has re-solidified and is poking his back again.

“StoOOP TOuching me!” Remus yelps and spins around to face him, face red as blood and hands up in a defensive position, “Since when could you do that?!”

The assassin rolls his eyes at this, his hands falling to his sides. Now he takes a moment to think, before reaching down to untie his dagger belt and pull his tunic loose.

“What are you doing?” Remus protests louder, covering his eyes with his hands.

The assassin doesn’t respond.

Though he’s reciting curses in his head and trying very hard to respect this stranger’s privacy, Remus’s curiosity quickly gets the better of him.

He peeks out between his fingers to find the soldier shirtless, his white hair parted and pulled over his shoulders. He looks up at Remus with a completely unimpressed stare.

The assassin reaches out to grab one of Remus’s hands, then turns to show Remus his back.

Remus stares for a moment, eyes tracing the thin, ragged lines of a latticework of scars. They stretch across and around the assassin’s back, some older and some deeper. Most seem to have been inflicted by animals or monsters rather than weapons.

Remus feels no sense of pity at the display — he’s got his own patchwork of scars and his own complicated relationship to them, but over all he sees them more as a mark of survival, as stories to tell. But, he is definitely curious, and his mile-a-minute brain is already spinning outrageous tales to match each and every mark.

Then the assassin guides his hand up towards the top of his back, just alongside his spine. The skin there feels leathery, and significantly warmer than the skin of the elf’s hand, though the heat seems to be emanating from someplace lower on his spine. It’s also slightly off-color, a bit lighter than the skin around it. Whatever this is, this scar is old.

Remus traces the outline of it up, then off to the side as it tapers to a thin line between his shoulder and the base of his neck. The assassin’s ears twitch at the gesture, and Remus’s hand flinches away.

He turns to look at Remus over his shoulder, his neutral grimace returned.

“We are the same. Shadow and wings. You are kitrye'maelthra, right?”

“I don’t know what that is.” Remus frowns, always frustrated when the assassin sneaks an elven word or two into their rare conversations,

“I’m not super good at reading energies, but you don’t feel like an angel… You have wings??”

“No.” He frowns, his gaze becoming soft and distant, “Not anymore.”

“Oh.” Remus sighs, now reeling at the possibilities.

What sort of dark elf grows wings, and how can they be removed? He winces at the phantom pain to his own wings as he parcels through every guess. Did a monster tear them off? The scar was so smooth, it seemed more like they had been burned away with acid. Did he fall into the pit of a living ooze, or maybe it was a punishment from some cruel cultist—

“Yours are broken.” The assassin pries, still staring at him while Remus zoned out.

“Broken? No they're not!”

“You have no skin.” The assassin remarks, like that should have been obvious, “And you look like a ghost.”

“Wait, skin? Like a bat?” Remus laughs, imagining it. He shakes his head, “I’m not supposed to have skin! —Well, I mean, I am, but also feathers. Y’know, like a bird?”

“Bird?” The assassin repeats, like he doesn’t understand the word. He probably doesn’t, goddamn Underdark.

“...Ehh, forget about it. I’ll show you one when we get up there.” Remus shakes his head.

The assassin pulls his tunic back up and re-ties it. While he waits, a sudden thought knocks Remus out of his gruesome imaginings.

He thinks he probably shouldn’t ask, but it takes him all of three seconds to snap and say it anyway,

“Hey,” Remus hums offhandedly, like he’s not extremely invested in knowing the answer, “If you could ‘go ghost’ or whatever this whole time, why didn’t you just poof yourself out of that cell?”

(“And why did you stay to help me?” Remus refuses to add, because he is not that attached to his little stray-criminal monsterboy, goddamnit. He refuses.)

The assassin doesn’t answer or turn back to him, simply staring off in the direction of their path.

Remus huffs and rolls his eyes,

“Fine, damn, keep your secrets. Bet you just can’t hold it that long~”

“Don’t xhandal me, lotha mal'dhalaruk. Usstan orn da'urzotreth dosst et'zarreth.”

“Again, I do not know what the fuck that is.”

#lets roll #long post #long answer #janus's visions #tw violence mention #tw scars #hehe toes #ive stopped making the visions all in italics. its fun flavor but it makes them hard to read lol

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Ok, so the little line about Marcus being sad that Nush didn’t wear his hoodie gave me thoughts...and thots.

This would definitely be further down the line, maybe they’ve already confessed their feelings to one another but they’re taking their relationship slow, so dates mostly consist of movie nights, dinners at casual places, etc. But one movie night, they fall asleep on Marcus’ couch and he wakes the next morning to Nush coming back from getting them pastries & coffee...in his hoodie. And boy does it do something to him. He’s never felt this way about someone wearing his clothes before; it makes him possessive and all he wants to do is see her in his hoodie and nothing else.

My brain goes two ways on this: heavy make out session where Marcus let’s her know just what seeing her in his clothes does (lots of dirty talk) OR full on dom!Marcus picking her up and putting her on his kitchen counter so he can get his mouth between her legs and telling her what seeing her in his clothes does to him. I can’t decide which I thot I like more!!

These two give me so many thoughts and thots...it might be a slight problem

Please note that this work is not suitable for those under 18. Themes of consensual sex and swearing.

Beta thanks to @yespolkadotkitty ❤️❤️❤️

You think you are possessing me but I’ve got my teeth in you.

Angela Carter 

What could be more coincidental than pouring rain greeting the pair of you as you leave the Prince Charles Cinema’s matinee of Singing in the Rain? The deluge that pours onto the street below invites a bloom of colourful umbrellas twisting and turning through the Soho streets- umbrellas that neither of you had thought to bring despite it being April in London. Enjoying the last few moments of relative warmth and dryness, your eyes flicker between a deep-in-thought Marcus, and the puddles outside those black rimmed glass doors that lie in wait for the pair of you. 

“You are thinking very loudly, Mr Pike,” you remark shaking your head as a wave of consternation washes across his face, “Don’t you dare think about where the nearest shop is to buy an umbrella. It’s barely a ten minute walk to Charing Cross from here.”

Marcus releases a small chuckle as he shuffles his feet embarrassedly, his eyes shifting sideways, “How did you know I was thinking that?”

“At work, when you are questioning people- you’re entirely closed off which you need to be in for our profession but as soon as you go into hometime Marcus, your thoughts and emotions are painted across your face as clear as words on a page.”

A shy boyish grin creeps across his face, “Ok, I am a bit of an open book but you have the ability to read me better than anyone else,” he reluctantly owns, “I kinda wish I was a better liar and could come up with something else on the spot.”

Grabbing his hand tightly, you give it a small squeeze and a tug to let him know that he never needs to lie to you- a gesture that Marcus returns with a gentle kiss upon your forehead. “Come on you, let’s go run between the raindrops and head back South of the river before anyone notices that we came without our passports.” Your eyes sparkle wickedly at him as you raise your finger to your lips pretending to drag him into the silly North/South London divide. 

“Still tickled by your version of the redneck, iced tea, Southern manners versus skyscrapers, yellow cabs and  cold winters”,” he shakes his head slightly.

“My love, there is a lot you don’t get in regards to Britishisms- you still giggle like a teenage boy whenever I mention the word knickers,” you kindly reprimand him, “You’ve not even been here two months yet, give yourself time to realise that our version of pancakes are better than yours!”

You hear a sharp gasp emanating from Marcus in mock hurt as you blaspheme over his favourite food group. Cocking your eyebrow at him, you pause for a moment as you step towards the double doors that lead into roads where the coloured lights bleed across their oily surfaces. Marcus reaches around you to open the door, “I got you. Not letting you walk into doors today.”

It seems as if the moment that the two of you step outside, the heavens truly decide to open upon you, drenching through every layer of clothing right to your bones. Running through the winding streets with your hands tightly wound together, you and Marcus dodge in and out of the sprawling crowds of tourists with their leisurely pace and humongous golf umbrellas. When you are faced with a particularly large group, you split apart with Marcus diving towards a shop but you go too close to the curb when a taxi drives through a massive puddle, sending an icy tsunami over your head. 

You stand there and gasp as the water constricts every blood vessel in your body, the shock coursing through your veins. Blinking the water from your eyelashes, you become aware of two hands bringing warmth back to your cheeks and two brown orbs gazing at you, “Hey, you ok?” Marcus scans your face, worriedly checking you over as he slides his worn leather jacket over your shoulders to try to bring some warmth back into your body.

Brimming with tears of mirth, your eyes crease into tiny crescents until the smile tugging at your lips forms the biggest grin as your whole body roars with laughter, “I don’t think there’s much point in trying to run between the raindrops anymore,” you gasp out between the giggles. 

When you notice that Marcus isn’t laughing, you pause to draw a deeper breath, searching his face for clues. Your heart beats faster and faster as you notice that his eyes are black holes, pulling you towards him until gravity and time cease to exist. Heat rises through the chill of your skin- from your stomach to your throat- as his lips call to yours. When the sensitive skin meets, there isn’t a moment of hesitation to drink each other in as the taste of Marcus silences all of your thoughts.

All of your kisses to this point had been the tentative kisses of a new relationship. The kisses of two broken hearts starting to mend and learning how to allow yourselves to love again. 

But this. This. This was different. 

Marcus withdraws his mouth slightly from you, resting his forehead against yours as his breath dances across your lips, “Wow.”

And then he’s back. Fingers tangled in your hair, lungs forgetting to breathe as without a moment’s hesitation he deepens the kiss, parting your lips and searching for the soft sweetness brought by your tongue. As the moment swiftly intensifies, your hands seek him out as the only solid thing in the swaying world around you. Your fingers seek out the warmth of his skin beneath his drenched Henley. You feel him. All of him presses against you so that you can inhale the woody scent of his aftershave, the citrus notes of his shampoo and that smell that is just so utterly Marcus. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers against your now swollen lips. His words ground you, placing a solid surface beneath your feet before he sweeps you away again. 

The kisses eventually slow, becoming infinitely more tender than the raw need that pulses between you both. You are breathless, dazed and needing so much more. Your body aches for more than the Soho streets can offer you, confident in the knowledge that Marcus feels the same as you feel his powerful body tremble like yours. All that exists in this moment is feeling, wanting and needing each other. 

A half growl, half moan comes from the back of Marcus’ throat as he finally breaks the kiss, “I have to get you home before I take you right here.”

Heart still racing, you just about manage to form words but your lust-filled brain mangles them making you feel drunk and slurred, “Whose home?”

“Mine. S’closer,” he murmurs into your mouth, “Don’t wanna be arrested for acts of indecency. Right now, everything I wanna do to you, falls into that category.”

It takes all you can muster, hearing that admission spill from his lips. All the willpower in the world, not to just find a darkened doorway and just take him there. 

His fingers find yours again, peeling your hands away from the soft skin under his t-shirt-  intertwining in undoable knots- but your bodies still press together as if you cannot bear to separate yet. You both take a moment to catch your breath, the rain still falling upon you in some heavenly benediction- mouths twitching into grins as your breathing relaxes and slows to a pace that allows for thoughts to re-enter your mind. 

Marcus is the one to break the bodily contact, turning to one side, dropping one of your hands to start walking towards the station. You catch a slightly confused look on his face, “Not sure where the station is, are you? Come on, I’ll let you take the lead when you know where you are a bit better,” you snigger with a saucy wink in his direction. 

As you go to walk away from him, he pulls you in closer and rumbles deeply in your ear, “You know I don’t have a problem with you taking the lead.”

The tone of his voice echoes through your skin, setting fireworks off through every synapse in your body and oh how it gladdens you to realise that he needs you as much as you want him. 

✪✪✪✪✪

The journey home has been one of not daring to look at or touch each other too much. Sitting next to him on the train, your thighs leaning into each other, you both desperately try to focus on messing around with your phones. Him showing you various forthcoming art exhibitions in town and you showing him silly TikToks sent by your nieces and nephews of dogs being dubbed with computerised voices, giving their thoughts on cats and other dog breeds. Anything to take your minds off what you’d actually like to do with each other.

As the train pulls into the station, you pull him up from his seat and head towards the exit. Tapping out at the ticket barrier, you turn towards Marcus, going up on tiptoes to place a small chaste kiss upon his lips, “I’m popping to Sainsburys to grab some wine as I think we finished that bottle on Wednesday, didn’t we? Do you need anything else while I’m there?”

“Sweetheart, I can’t let you do that,” Marcus tries pleading with you.

“I cannot get any wetter than I am at this moment in time,” you implore before pausing as Marcus raises his eyebrows at you, licking his lower lip, stepping closer to close the minutismal space between yourselves.

“Quit  making me stand in the rain, thinking impure thoughts,” he groans.

You push the heel of your hand into his chest, “Then go upstairs, run me a bath and find something dry for me to put on, then you can have your wicked way with me.”

Putting his hands on your hips and dipping his head to playfully nip at your neck, Marcus gives in as his lips mutter into your skin, “Ok, be quick. I’ll order some pizza and ice cream ready for you getting out of the bath.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you release a satisfied groan at the thought of a warm bath and pizza. Especially that beauty of a bath in Marcus’ apartment where you can actually stretch out and entirely submerge yourself beneath the hot soapy water. You remove Marcus’s hands from your sides and turn towards the small store with its bright fluorescent lights blaring out at you through the plate glass storefront. As you go to step inside, you turn your head and see that Marcus has turned at the same time with that look in his eyes again. With a small wave and a grin, you step inside to find snacks and wine, not entirely sure that they would be necessary this evening.

✪✪✪✪✪

Bottles clink and packets of Haribo rustle from within your bags as you walk up to Marcus’ front door. You give the bottom section of wood a small thud from your boot, to which it opens with a significantly dryer Marcus, who takes the bags from you before ushering you in. As the warmth of his flat encircles you, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“Strip,” his firm, familiar baritone commands, holding an arm out for your soaking clothes, “Your bath is run and I’ve left you some clothes on my bed. You’d left a pair of panties from the last time you stayed over- I’ve washed those so they’re in the pile too.”

Peeling back the layers of clothing that had been so utterly useless against the torrential rain and draping them over Marcus’ arms- tiny droplets dripping onto his hardwood flooring, you soon stand there completely naked. Tossing your clothes in the general direction of his washing machine, he gently guides you with his warm hand placed in the small of your back towards the bath, which true to his word, is full, bubbly and welcoming. 

As you step in, you look over towards Marcus inviting him in with your eyes. 

With a small shake of his head, Marcus turns to leave you to soak. The quietude envelops you, so much that you are barely able to hear Marcus padding softly around outside this sanctuary. You lie back allowing the water to cover your ears- a complete sensory deprivation when your eyes draw shut too. Images that swirl with the heavenly taste and scent of Marcus, his velvet touch and the sound of his voice dance behind your closed lids as you allow the water to wash away London pollution and puddle water. 

✪✪✪✪✪

Having reheated your body enough, the bath water turning tepid, you clamber out onto the deliciously soft bath mat that you know Andy picked out prior to Marcus’ arrival. Wrapping one of the towels Marcus has left out for you around your body and the other around your hair, you walk into his impeccably neat bedroom. Bed made, clothes ironed, folded and put away- the polar opposite of yours. Even the pile of clothes with your knickers on top, is neat. 

The morning after the night when Marcus had first stayed over at yours and needed an iron for his shirt, you’d barely been able to locate in your memory where you’d last seen it- pointing him in the direction of the cupboard of doom- the place where half-baked ideas and good intentions go to die.. Everything is generally haphazard and a little topsy-turvy about you but Marcus, his sense of order calms your busy brain and you are noticing it rub off on you. 

You hang your coat up on the hooks that you’d drilled in when you’d first bought your flat but never used until a month ago. You only now have one hanging chair, rather than utilising every surface available. You also attempt to only buy one bagged salad each week instead of pretending that you will eat more greens but then them definitely losing that green tone, fading into a brown slush before you remember their existence in that pathetic salad drawer. 

Pulling up your knickers and sitting, no- sinking into the glorious mattress of Marcus’ bed, you haul the t-shirt over your head and shrug your arms into the sleeves of the hoodie before zipping it up at the front. You smile at a flicker of a memory where Jasper had moaned at you for stretching out his hoodies with your woman boobs. You also find it very sweet that Marcus honestly thinks that his shorts will fit over your thighs and hips so you leave them on the bed, choosing to leave the room in just the hoodie, t-shirt and underwear- albeit just on your bottom half as your bra was utterly soaked too and was probably going through his washing machine. That poor underwire! Nevermind, perhaps it’s time for something a little less utilitarian and a little more sexy.

Softly padding out from his bedroom, you spy Marcus’ broad back twisting in the kitchen as he seeks out plates and glasses in the cupboards. Pizza boxes lie on the side, their contents sweating condensation on the table below.

“I’m finally decent,” you declare with a flourish as you bounce into the kitchen, almost bounding directly into his chest. 

Marcus spins at the sound of your voice, making sure to catch and steady you after your clumsy entrance, “No. You are very wrong there,” his breath hitching as he rumbles deeply into the shell of your ear, “No way. You could never be classified as decent, not looking like this.”

Another step and a slight twist of your body, and Marcus has your hips pinned against the cupboard. He places his hands either side of you, trapping you between the carpentry and the solid wall of him, his dark eyes flashing with lust as you feel him memorising every detail of you. 

“Talk to me, Marcus,” you ask of him, running your fingers through his dark curls, “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You sure you wanna know?” he questions, stroking his fingers down the side of you, the sensation causing you to twitch under its tenderness. 

“I want you to tell me everything,” you demand unblinkingly. Desperate for Marcus to finally tell you what he wants rather than constantly looking to please and pleasure you.

“Ok,” You see Marcus nod, his bottom lip slightly trembling, “It takes a superhuman feat of strength not to call you into my office everyday and fucking rail you right there into my desk, in front of everyone.”

Holy fuck, Marcus. Let it go.

“Monday, when we were working late and you grabbed my jacket to throw over your shoulders? Seeing how the shoulders swamped yours, there was... There was just this moment when I wanted to run my hands up that skirt, rip your panties off, slide into you and bite your neck, leaving marks for everyone to know you’re mine. I just wanted to possess every part of you and all because of you wearing something that’s mine. 

“When we’re walking around galleries or sitting in cinemas together, it is all I can do to not find a cupboard to push you into or take advantage of the lowlights.I just want you to be mine all the time. I want to be surrounded by your scent- your hair, your perfume and your cunt -  they’re this drug that I can’t get enough of. When you wear my clothes, they smell of you - makes me want to possess every part of you. I need all of you to belong to me.” 

Your heart thuds in your chest as you allow Marcus’ primal growl to fill you with a searing heat that burns through the very depths of you.

“And now. Right now? Seeing you now in my hoodie and just your panties is so fucking tempting- so don’t you dare give me that comment that you are decent now.” 

His hands finally move from their position on the counter to your hips as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist unconsciously. The pizza unceremoniously gets dumped onto the floor as he settles you onto the cool work surface, pulling your hips slightly towards him. Unlocking your calves from around his waist, he pushes your thighs a little further apart, thumbs brushing upon the sensitive skin as he lowers his face so that you can feel his hot breath through the material of your knickers.

He withdraws slightly, pressing his lips in sweet kisses along the inside of your thighs whilst his teeth graze and nip at you, setting off a string of fireworks in your skin. 

“Right now, I want to inhale you. I need to have your scent filling my lungs.”

His nose nuzzles into your lightly clothed slit searching out your sweet heady scent, brushing the damp material back and forth over your sensitive clit making it throb in anticipation. The sensations brought from his nose causes your core to pool around him, the small nudges sending your pulse racing through the roof. 

Very few thoughts are able to exist in your mind other than the way you desperately want to wrap your legs back around him- this time around his head to lock him in place and keep his face glued to your pussy, stopping him from continuing this tantalising teasing. 

“Now? Now, I want to taste you. I want drink that sweet fucking nectar from right here.”

Dipping his head lower, he licks teasingly at the aperture of your cunt, stiffening his tongue slightly to press the material between your folds. Your breath catches in your throat wanting to scream at his slow pace. You hook your thumbs into the elastic of your knickers at your hips, trying to awkwardly shuffle them off. 

Abruptly, he stops. Pulling away from you, moving your hands away from trying to remove your underwear, “No,” he growls, “Leave them on.”

“Do you wanna know why I didn’t sneak those panties back to you at work or any of the other nights I’ve seen you this week?” He raises an eyebrow at you from his crouched position between your legs as you nod helplessly, your heart pounding in your throat, “I’ve been smelling them, thinking of your hot cunt as I rub my cock in the few moments we’re apart.”

Leaning forward, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your bottom and kissing you hard through your knickers, he exclaims joyously, “Ah, honey, I fucking love your smell and taste! Sometimes, I can still smell your juices on my fingers at work and it makes my cock fucking throb, knowing that you are only two steps away from me. Professionalism with you so close is impossible.”

Your pussy throbs and yearns for a consistent touch as he returns his face to between your legs. Resting his forehead against your pubic bone, he returns to burying his nose into the dampest point of the thin fabric. This time, as he drags it upwards, he pulls his tongue stiffly upwards until he reaches that sensitive nub of nerves, catching it between his teeth gently tugging it. 

You swear that every nerve in your body is on fire and nothing exists except you and Marcus. No one has made your body sing like this in its neediness. The rush of wild sensations sweeping across your body are equally thrilling and maddening you.

 Teasing the material to one side of your pussy lips, you watch a smile unfold across Marcus’ face as he gazes upon you. 

Never have you felt so wanted before. 

Then with the same joyous abandon he has shown in kissing your pussy, he throws your thighs over his shoulders before sinking his mouth onto the sweet, bare flesh. The way that his tongue flickers so gracefully across your clit leaves you gasping. That familiar knot of pleasure building deep inside your tummy as he edges ever lower, preparing to tongue fuck you. Licking deeper and deeper into your cunt, you can hear the pleasure spilling from within you onto his tongue and oh how he drinks like a man dying of thirst. 

You cry out in surprise as Marcus encircles his lips around your clit, sucking rhythmically and gently. The scruff of his beard tickling pleasingly the sensitive flesh as he works you towards your release. A guttural groan against your delicate skin is the point that sends you truly spinning over the precipice into pleasure, howling his name into the night air as your thighs tightly clasp him around his ears, his tongue still working you through that blissful high until your body drops every ounce of tension, relaxing into the afterglow. 

When he moves back into softly kissing your thighs, you tug his glistening face towards you with barely a moment of hesitation passing between the two of you. Your lips meet again with the tenderness of an artist’s brushstrokes, Marcus painting the taste of you into your mouth with exquisitely delicious kisses. 

He brings his forehead back to rest against yours again, with a total calmness drifting across his features. You shut your eyes and rest with him, safe. From his lust drenched words to the experienced motions of his tongue, you utterly resign yourself to the truth. 

You have always belonged with Marcus.

 You always will.

@yespolkadotkitty @astroboots @danniburgh @disgruntledspacedad @green-socks @zukoyonce @sirowsky @bison-writes @tardisfangurl @agirllovespancakes @leonieb @mrsparknuts @absurdthirst @pedropascalito @lunaserenade @mouthymandalorian @the-ginger-hedge-witch @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

#the mentalist #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal edit #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #thanks for the ask! #send me asks

[adaodinson]

Don´t you want me

This fic has in it the song “Don´t you want me” by Human League. Let´s just imagine it came out before 1976 (it came out on 1981) because I got inspiration from it and the idea got stuck in my head so I had to write it.

I do recommend to listen to the song while reading or at least before, especially if you have never heard it. But if you have, then you´re good.

(Here’s the YouTube link for the song: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=uPudE8nDog0 )

Summary: You have a difficult relationship with your boss, will a song smooth the tension or create more?

Warnings: Swearing.

Relationship: Niki Lauda x fem!reader

-I said I needed this finished for today! TODAY! Do any of you assholes know what that means!?- Niki had been yelling at your team for about 10 minutes (time that you could have used to continue working) because according to him, you weren´t fast enough to finish changing the parts of his car for when he needed them. Of course, the day wasn´t over yet, and you knew for a fact that you and your team were more than capable of finishing even before nightfall. But the asshole decided to load his anger of having lost the last race onto you, and you all knew better than contradicting him right now.

You wanted nothing more than shutting him up by just showing how fast you could all work together, you wanted to tell his pretty face to fuck off and let you finish your work, and if by the end of the day you hadn´t finished, then he could yell all he wanted. You had been a pain in the ass for Niki since you had started working for him, but he hadn´t been a beautiful angel for you either. Being a woman in this type of job meant you had to know how to stick up for yourself, so you were usually the first one to talk back to him, to shut him up with clever responses and to show just how capable you were. He knew you were one of the best at what you did, that´s one of the things he hated most about you: he knew he can´t fire you, but he knows how hot-headed you are. He had been trying to hide his attraction towards you, and so far, he was doing fine.

All of your teammates stood in silence, already used to getting yelled at by the man. When he finished, you immediately walked towards the car, grabbed the tools you needed and expertly changed one of it´s biggest parts in less than five minutes. You didn´t say a word, but whenever your eyes weren´t focusing on your task, they were on Niki. He was watching you, feeling like yelling again, but this time only at you. He felt anger boil in his body, and he was using every fiber in his being to stop himself from being once again amazed by your skills.

He had finally left, you had all finally been able to finish working on the car, and as usual, you were now the only one left. You yawned and stretched as you felt the muscles of your back tense from how tired you were. You grabbed your things and headed towards your car, wanting nothing more than to get to your apartment, get changed and go to bed.

You walked through the parking lot, feeling the light breeze hit your face next to the smooth lights that were on and enlightening your path through the darkness of the night. A minute later you were standing in front of your car, but as you felt through your pockets you just wanted to punch the glass of it´s windows: your keys. The mental image flew in your head, remembering exactly where you had left them. You always kept them inside your pocket, but this time, thanks to the Lauda asshole, you had been forced to empty your pockets as a prove you weren´t carrying anything that would distract you from your work.

You headed back for the workshop, and as you made your way through the now dark hallways you had grown so familiar to, you heard a distant music and singing. You immediately recognized the song: “Don´t you want me” by the Human League. You didn´t recognize the voice that was singing though. It was smooth and nice, a little loud, but whoever was the owner of it sure as hell knew his way through singing.

You weren´t a bad singer yourself, sometimes it was hard to recognize it, but you knew you had a pretty voice, so the second you reached the door and looked through the window and inside the workshop, you decided you would give that pretty voice of yours a good use.

It was Niki singing. He seemed to be checking everything in the car one last time, and he was playing the song as he sang the lyrics.

It's much too late to find

When you think you've changed your mind

You'd better change it back or we will both be sorry

You were between shocked at how good he sounded and amused at the opportunity for embarrassing him you had just gotten. Just as he was about to enter the chorus, you gently pushed the door making sure he wouldn´t hear you enter and started.

Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me? Oh!

Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me? Oh!

The second Niki heard another voice he turned his head dramatically to face the door. The moment he saw you he felt his cheeks cover up in embarrassment, thing that was completely unfamiliar to him. You smirked as you made your best to keep your voice loud and sounding good. Niki was between embarrassed, mad as hell and amazed at your beautiful voice, but as soon as you started the next part of the song, he stood up, smirked at you as you sang and thought: Oh, so you wanna play, let´s play.

But even then I knew I'd find a much better place

Either with or without you

As you finished the woman´s part in the song and started the second chorus, Niki headed quickly towards you and grabbed your waist with both hands harshly, but you didn´t pull away; you weren´t going to give up easily, so you just stared into his eyes as you placed your hands on his shoulders and kept on singing.

Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me? Oh!

Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me? Oh!

Your voices sang in synchrony as you teased each other with your eyes and hands. There had always been a weird type of chemistry between you two, and sure, Niki was an asshole, but even you couldn´t deny he was handsome as hell. You had always thought that if he weren´t your boss you probably would have made a move on him before earning your place between the people that annoyed him the most, or that´s what you thought.

Niki noticed you since he laid eyes on you. It was hard not to, but he was a professional, and so were you. You were there to work on his car, not on him. He surely felt attracted to you; your stubbornness (so similar to his) was, as annoying as it was, quite appealing to him. He knew there were lines with you, you didn´t pull up with anybody’s shit, not even his, and he loved it.

As you sang and looked into each other´s eyes, you both almost felt a magnetic force that bonded your bodies together. With each new word from the song you felt yourself an inch closer to Niki, and what surprised you the most was the smile that seemed to want to exit his mouth. You decided to smile first, knowing he wouldn´t see it coming, but you sure as hell weren´t expecting what he did next.

Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me? Oh!

Don't you want me, baby?

Don't you want me? Oh!

You got to the end of the song, and the second the music stopped Niki pushed you closer into his arms, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. It was a perfect mixture between a rough and soft kiss. Without any hurry, but with just the right strength.

You softly moaned into the kiss and you immediately felt his grip tighten and his tongue begging for entrance between your lips. You happily complied. Your breaths mixed perfectly, just like your voices while singing. You felt fireworks exploding in your head as you moved your hands up to his neck and hair pulling him even closer. It was now his turn to moan into the kiss.

You both soon remembered you needed air to live, so you parted at the same time and just looked into each other´s eyes for what felt like ages.

Against your desires, Niki lost his grip and started walking away. You suddenly felt panic. Had that been too much? Would he fire you? Would he yell at you?

He silently went to turn off the still on music, grabbed his things and walked back to you. He placed one of his hands on your back and led you outside, to the parking lot. For him, you were in comfortable silence, but you were dying for either running away, or kissing him again.

-Let me take you to dinner tomorrow- Niki said with that familiar grin on his face.

-Only If you give me another kiss- you answered playfully. It took him by surprise, but only a few seconds were enough for his other hand to run to cup your cheek and pull you into a sweeter kiss. You played with his hair as you parted and talked.

-Then sure, I´d love to have dinner with you- You answered. He smiled proudly and left you next to your car.

You were about to slap yourself for not grabbing your keys, which happened to be the original reason you went in, when Niki put his hand into his pocket and took them out.

-Don´t forget them next time, or I´ll have to take you home- He said with a huge smirk in his face. You took them from his hand with an annoyed laugh and got inside your car.

-Good night, boss- He chuckled at the use of his title.

-Good night, worker- It was now your turn to laugh. You finally started your engine and drove home with a little less of a sleepy feeling as you had before, and definitely a more excited one to go back to work tomorrow and see how things went with the asshole, your asshole.

#niki lauda x fem!reader #niki lauda daniel #niki lauda #rush 2013 #rush #don’t you want me #fic song #song fic #niki lauda x reader #daniel bruhl x reader #daniel brühl character #daniel brühl fanfic #brühl

[moon-light-jukebox]

“All you have to do is ask.” Chapter 2 - [Reid x Reader]

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Summary: After the conversation in Nebraska, there’s some tension between our favorite genius and Reader. A peace offering, a rainstorm, and some unexpected questions should clear that right up.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Rating: Mature (not all chapters contain smut, those that do will be marked)

Category: Smut, fluff, and a bit of angst.

Word Count: 2.3k for Chapter 2 

Content Warning: Some slight angst for Chapter 2

A/n: I hope y’all are liking this so far! No smut in this chapter, but I more than make up for it in chapter 3. Promise. 

IMPORTANT ADDITIONAL NOTE: It was brought to my attention that the angst in this chapter appears to be something it is not. I mean, I know how the story ends, so I didn’t see it that way. But it’s a valid concern. I address it in chapter 6, but I’ve made edits to chapter 3 to address it a bit too. Reader is afraid to trust anyone, that is all. I promise. 

y/n = your name

y/l/n = your last name

italicized text are Reader’s inner thoughts.

-- Chapter 2: I fucking beg your goddamn pardon? --

Once we pinned down the gender of the unsub, it wasn’t hard to help the locals close the case. Anna Marie Wilcox, 29. A pretty blonde girl with haunted eyes, betrayed by every man in her life. She just wanted to take her power back.

Cool motive; still murder.

The flight back to Quantico was quiet. Hotch spoke with Rossi before take-off, telling us that he was flying back from San Francisco after visiting his daughter and grandson and that he would see us on Monday. After that, everyone seemed to slip into their own world. This wasn't uncommon. After working day and night to save lives, digging your way into the darkest corners of a murderer’s mind, you needed to decompress a bit.

JJ was asleep in the back of the cabin, Emily sitting beside her while she reviewed some files. Hotch was writing at the small table, Morgan sitting opposite him, eyes closed while he listened to whatever played through his headphones.

And I was on the couch with Dr. Spencer Reid. I was very surprised when he boarded the jet and made a beeline towards where I was sitting without hesitation. He hadn't spoken to me or even looked at me for longer than 5 seconds since our talk at the precinct. I could tell my blunt words had an effect on him, which wasn't surprising to me. I tried not to stereotype people, I knew better than anyone else how wrong those stereotypes could be; but, if I ever had to guess a person I thought would be a submissive, I’d guess Spencer Reid.

My back was angled on the couch, pressing into the corner where the armrest met the backrest, my legs crossed in front of me. I had my phone in my head, swiping mindlessly on a puzzle game that didn't require any cell phone signal to play. I always found myself doing that after a case, it calmed me.

Dr. Reid was pretending to read.

He’s not even being convincing, I thought, trying to keep my face neutral. You read 20,000 words a minute, baby. You’ve been staring at that page for 5 minutes. Unable to resist, I shifted in my seat. I slowly uncrossed my legs, the small slit in the side of my skirt becoming visible at the movement.

Did I wear this skirt on purpose? Yes, yes, I did.

I let out a soft sigh before re-crossing my legs. I watched him out of the corner of my eye the entire time. His eyes followed my movements, his breath hitching slightly. He moved his gaze up my body until he got to my eyes, which he was surprised to find were on him. He cleared his throat before going back to his book, little splotches of red on his cheeks.

I smirked. All you have to do is ask, Dr. Reid.

--

Nothing happened until Thursday the following week. I had all but given up hope that Spencer Reid would finally cave and come to me. Shame, I thought. He would look so pretty when he begged.

The unit's caseload had been lighter than normal, with no cases that required us to travel. We did some consulting and wrote up some preliminary profiles for the law enforcement agencies that asked for our help. We had been traveling so much over the past few months, I think Hotch was just trying to give us a break.

A loud clap of thunder broke the silence of the bullpen. Then it seemed as if the sky opened up a second later, the heavy rain falling like a curtain outside the windows.

“That’s dramatic,” Emily Prentiss commented.

Morgan made a sound of agreement before turning his head to look at Reid. “Have fun walking to the train station in that, pretty boy.” His face split into a smile as Spencer shot him a glare. JJ, Emily, and I all laughed at their exchange. His eyes didn’t go to JJ or Emily though, those caramel brown eyes swung in my direction.

At the end of the workday, Garcia was the first out the door. She walked past the bullpen and gave a big wave. “Goodbye, my darlings. I will see you in the morning…unless there is a terrible murder!”

The team smiled and returned her goodbye. Derek was out of his seat in a flash, trailing after her. I couldn’t help but wonder about the two of them sometimes.

“Bye Spence,” I heard JJ say as she passed the boy wonder’s desk. “Try not to drown out there.” Emily laughed as she walked up beside JJ, standing just a little too close. I wondered about them too, if I’m honest.

When it was just me and the object of my attention left, I got my bag and approached his desk. “Hey, Doc.”

He didn’t look up, making it seem like putting files and papers into his messenger bag required his full attention. “Hi, y/l/n.”

Well, this wouldn’t do at all. “It’s still pouring outside. Do you need a ride? I’d hate for you to have to walk a block in this storm.”

“I’ll manage,” he muttered, still not meeting my eyes.

I let out a sigh. “Spencer.” His eyes finally raised to meet mine. “I’m sorry if I stepped over the line in Nebraska. It was unprofessional. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but I continued. “I hope that we can move past this, I really miss my friend.”

He took a moment to adjust his glasses. He never wore them anymore, and I have to admit that my heart sputtered a bit when I saw him in them this morning. “We were friends before?” He chuckled slightly, earning a smile for me. I’d only been with the BAU for 7 months, and while I was friendly with my co-workers, Spencer and I had never had a particularly close bond.

“I like to think so,” was my reply, giving him a small smile. “And if we weren’t before, I hope we can be one day.” With one final look in those eyes, I turned. “Have a good night, Doc.”

I was halfway to the elevators when I heard him. “Y/n!” I turned to see him hurrying towards me. He smiled at me; and it was his real smile, not the polite smile he gave others. It was a full-blown smile that lit his whole face up. My stomach fluttered. “If you don’t mind, I’d actually like a ride. If you’re still willing?”

Still so nervous, even now. “Of course, pretty boy,” Morgan’s nickname for him slipping from my lips without a thought. “Follow me.”

It wasn’t the thing I had been hoping all week that he’d ask me, but it was a start.

--

The drive to Spencer’s apartment took longer than it should have. I was driving slower because of the storm; I was also driving slower because other drivers weren’t driving slowly.

"This type of rain is so heavy it cuts the visibility more than the average storm," the good doctor said. "Under normal precipitation, it's advised that you reduce your speed by at least 10 miles to account for less traction."

“Huh,” I responded, glancing down at my speedometer.

He cleared his throat. “S-sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

I risked a quick glance at him to see him shifting in his seat. “Do what, Doc?”

“Ramble,” Spencer said softly. “I ramble when I’m nervous, and I’m trying really hard not to be nervous.”

My heart ached for him in that moment. This brilliant, brilliant, man, the smartest and kindest person in any room, was nervous about talking to me. My right hand lifted from the steering wheel before I could think better of it, touching his arm lightly. “Please don’t be nervous around me, Spencer.” His whole body stiffened at my touch. “Shit! I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t like to be touch.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “I just keep fucking this up, don’t I?” My chuckle was sad, and a little bit bitter.

“It’s not that,” he said quickly. “I was just surprised. I don’t…I don’t mind if you touch me.”

I didn’t try to hide the shock on my face. “You don’t, huh?”

I swear I could almost hear the blush in his voice. “I d-didn’t mean it like t-.”

“Spence,” I cut him off. “I know. I was just teasing.”

He let out a small chuckle at that. "Oh. Right." There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. "You know, you've never called me Spence before." I simply nodded in agreement. He was right, I hadn't. I hadn't even meant to do it then. He continued on. “Actually, you only call me Spencer when the conversation is serious. Other than that it’s always Doc…or occasionally Reid.” The chuckle that left him put a smile on my face.

“You’re right, Doc.” I glanced over at him and smiled. “Tell you what, I don’t want you to be nervous around me. At all. So, I’m giving you blanket consent right now.” I really hoped I knew what I was doing. “You can ask me any question you want. You can tell me anything. I promise I won’t judge you.”

“…Really?” He sounded almost like he was in awe.

I nodded. “Yes, really. The thought of making you nervous makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want you to feel that way in front of me.” My voice was soft, reassuring. Maybe it was the soft dom in me that recognized his submissive, but I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to feel safe.

Spencer Reid took a deep breath before he spoke again. He acted like it was no big deal, but the words he said afterward gave me a mild heart attack. "Okay, can you tell me about your BDSM experiences?"

I fucking beg your goddamn pardon?

I sputtered a bit. “…Seriously?” My eyes were wide, I didn’t risk looking at him.

“W-well,” he sounded unsure now. “You said I could ask you anything.”

“You can! You absolutely can!” I heard him let out a breath. “I’m just…surprised that’s what you went with. That’s all. But…I don’t mind telling you if you really want to know.”

“I do,” he whispered.

I smiled over at him. “Okay, Doc. What do you wanna know?”

Spencer chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Maybe just walk me through what you like to do. Or what you usually do. Or how you got into it.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, that’s all?” I shook my head. “Alright. I was 21 when I first got into it. I had a…he wasn’t really my boyfriend. I guess you can say a friend with benefits.” I saw him nod his head in understanding. “And one day he asked me if I knew anything about BDSM. At that time, I only knew misconceptions and rumors; which is why I told him I wasn’t interested. The thought of someone tying me down and doing whatever they wanted to me sounded terrifying. But he clarified that he thought I would enjoy being a dominant. We tried it out a few times…and I liked it.”

Spencer cleared his throat. “So…is that the only kind of sex you have?”

I pondered over how to answer him. “That’s…a complicated question. I’m not not answering. I think I should just explain a bit more first." He made a noise of affirmation before I continued on. "What I do during a scene sort of depends on my submissive. Before anything happens, we have to have a really in-depth conversation, discussing hard and soft limits, punishments, expectations, and things like that." I glanced over, confirming I hadn't lost him. "Like I mentioned, I'm a soft dom. But, I usually can bend to what my submissive likes, as long as I’m comfortable.”

“So, what would you do? If you got to pick everything?”

You keep on surprising me, Doctor, I thought.

“Well, I like bondage, choking, degradation, but only if it’s light and done right.” I don’t know why I felt the need to explain that. “Then I’m fine with oral sex, praise, orgasm denial, overstimulation, and pegging.”

Spencer was quiet. “A-and pegging is the…”

“What the unsub was doing to her victims? Yes, Spencer.”

“…Oh,” was all the boy genius said.

I continued on, trying to provide context. “I usually like to build up the relationship a bit before I bust out a strap on, though.” I worked hard to keep my voice even. “I’ll use toys on him first, usually.”

“You didn’t say sex.”

Shit. "Beg pardon?" I asked like I was clueless about what he meant.  

Dr. Reid’s voice was firm; it was the voice he used on cases, the steady voice that explained concepts that anyone else would miss. “You said oral sex. You said you’d…you’d…do that-“

“Oh, for God’s sake, Doc,” I interrupted with a laugh. “We’re less than 3 minutes from your apartment and we’re having a conversation about BDSM. You can say fuck.”

“Fine,” he huffed. “You said you fuck them. But you never said you’d let them fuck you.”

Fucking profilers. “Yes, that’s right. That’s why it was so hard for me to answer your earlier question. I don’t have traditional sex with my submissives.”

His voice was confused when he asked, “But why?”

I clicked my tongue. “That, my darling, is a conversation I avoid at all costs. And we’re at your apartment.”

Spencer glanced around, surprised we’d arrived already, despite how long the drive took in the rain. I knew what he was going to do before he did it. I was already formulating my answer when he said, “Y/n…would you want to come up to my apartment? So we could keep talking?”

“Sure, Spence. If that’s what you want.”

--

message/comment to be added to the series tag list! thank you for reading :)

#Spencer reid #Spencer Reid fanfic #Spencer Reid x reader #dr spencer reid #dr reid #dr Spencer Reid smut #dr Spencer Reid fic #Spencer Reid smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x y/n #mgg #reid smut #reid angst #Spencer Reid angst #sub!spencer #ayhtdia

[the-purity-pen]

FTRFTH: part iii

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,813 Rating: G Warnings: Still just more kissing and cute fluff A/N: This story is back with the third part! Sorry it took a bit to get it written but I’m so excited for these two!

Part 1 | Part 2  masterlist 

Three weeks had gone by and when the email came in that your photos were done being edited, you nearly jumped for joy. You had already loved on the sneak peeks that Georgia had posted on her facebook page.

You didn’t know if Frankie had seen so you had called him to make him check Georgia’s facebook page. You had to practically walk in through how to get to it from his email and you found yourself giggling the whole time.

When the email came through with the gallery link you figured it’d be best to just show up with your laptop to show Frankie rather than try to walk him through the process of favoriting and viewing the photos you’d want to keep.

You tried to keep your excitement contained and forced yourself not to look at any of the photos until you were able to meet with Frankie. When you sent him a quick text to see what he was up to the next morning, he told you his schedule was wide open. So you planned a quick coffee date to view the photos together.

“I can’t wait to see them. And you.”

His text sent a little flurry of butterflies to your chest and you had a hard time falling asleep. You kept opening your phone and re-reading the text like some lovesick teenager. Maybe that’s what it was. Just puppy love.

The next morning came and by the time you got everything ready to leave, you realized you were going to be a few minutes late. You called Frankie to let him know and his response warmed your heart.

“I’ve got a table for us so take all the time you need.” He had to stop himself from typing an endearing nickname at the end of the text. It had been over a month since the first meeting of you and he couldn’t get you out of his head. The electricity that he felt when he finally kissed you made him crave more of that feeling.

It didn’t help squash that feeling that you were more than willing to talk to him nearly every day and not just over text. You respected that new technology wasn’t really his thing and simply for that, he was grateful.

Frankie sat at the table, coffee cup in hand, holding it with both hands, leaning his elbows onto the table as he watched the window. He was partially watching the people just go by with their lives but he was also watching for you. When he saw you appear and walk right in, he immediately stood up to greet you.

The smile on both your faces was evident as a single arm wrapped around you and cheek kisses were given. Frankie was nothing if not polite. He stepped aside and even pulled out your chair which had you giggling like a fool in the middle of a coffee shop.

He pushed in your chair as you sat down and you looked up at him and gave him a smirk. You thanked him quietly and he leaned over to ask you what your coffee order would be. You told him and he nodded before walking away to get it for you.

You took that time to open your laptop, connect it to the shop’s wifi and pull up the link to the gallery. When Frankie came back a few moments later and set down the coffee cup, he was leaning close to you and you half expected him to kiss you. But he didn’t. He just smiled and took his seat across from you.

“You’re gonna have to scoot closer,” you laughed and watched as he pulled the chair with him, not fully standing to do so. His elbow bumped you and he immediately apologized which just made you laugh again. “Frankie, you’re fine. C’mere.” you tugged his arm so he was leaning in with you as you clicked on the link and opened the gallery in a new tab.

Both of your eyes shot open at the photos. The way the sunset looked so warm behind you, the vibrant colors of your top that you had worn that day and the grass just making it look like a painting. “Wow,” Frankie gasped quietly as he looked at the photos that you pulled up one by one. 

After a handful of photos, you reached over to click the arrow button again but Frankie stopped you. You looked at him but he was staring at the photo intensely. It wasn’t a photo of the two of you. It was a moment that the two of you were separated for a moment, probably talking and Georgia had snapped the moment that you were looking down and laughing.

You normally hated the way you looked when you laughed in photos and it was a rare occurrence to even happen in photos with your ex. Yet here you were, golden sunlight dancing across your features, illuminating you in just the right way. Your face was relaxed but bright at the same time.

Frankie had to stop you on this one. He couldn’t get enough of how beautiful you truly looked like that. With his hand over yours, he finally looked over at you and saw the way you were looking at yourself in the photo. It was like you didn’t recognize yourself and he realized how beautiful you were looking at the computer screen like that. Enamored with how you looked in that photo, in that moment.

Frankie said your name quietly and you looked at him but before you could respond, he leaned closer to slot his lips against yours softly. Your heart immediately jumped from your chest into your throat as you kissed him ever so gently. His lips were just as soft as you remembered and the intensity behind the gentle kiss reminded you of that day all over again.

When he pulled away after only a few moments that felt like forever, he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes and you felt your heart lurch forward once more. Your hand, still covered by his was brought to his face where your fingers gently scratched at his sparse facial hair. It had grown in a bit more since the last time you had seen him in person.

You were so wrapped up in each other that you nearly forgot about the photos. Frankie was the first to break, clearing his throat before kissing your palm gently and placing your hand back down on the computer. “Let’s, uh, keep going,” he said quietly, bringing his free hand up to rub at his still shocked lips from the contact with yours.

You smiled nervously, feeling your heart beating a mile a minute in your chest. You nodded and started to flip through the pictures again slowly. Each one progressing to you both moving closer and then the ones of you dancing together and then finally, that first kiss. It was your turn to stop pressing the button and just stare.

The way the light lit up behind Frankie and illuminated his curls that he had let loose from his usual cap that he donned. The way his hands held you, his thick fingers gripping your side and the way his lips looked so perfect against yours. It was no wonder Georgia had left you two alone for a bit. It was clear even from the still photograph that there were sparks flying.

“Wow.” It was your turn to be rendered nearly speechless at the photo. Frankie let his hand come down and cover yours, his thumb running gently along the back of your hand. Goosebumps ran up your arm with each pass of his thumb. Your breath hitched as you looked at him at the same moment that he looked at you.

“Do you feel that?” he asked and at first you furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to say what but his soft brown eyes made you close your mouth again. “The spark that you see in that photo. Do you feel it?”

Your breath caught when he moved closer and your eyes closed instinctually, waiting for him to close the gap but when he didn’t, your eyes opened. “Do you?” he asked again slowly and quietly, a near whisper that made you shudder. All you could muster for energy was to nod slowly.

His smile brightened up. “Be mine then,” he offered in a whisper before his lips found yours again in a quick, soft kiss. You wanted to say yes. Oh how badly you wanted to say yes but a voice in your mind told you that this was just being swept up with the feelings the photos were invoking. That he was just overjoyed at how beautiful the photos were but in time would see how truly broken you were.

You pulled away from his kiss and out of the grasp of his hand. He frowned down at his now empty hand before looking at you. His eyes held sorrow and confusion. “I- I can’t. I’m sorry,” you murmured before you were reaching to close the laptop. Frankie grabbed your hands and moved them closer to him.

“Hey,” he said your name so you’d finally look at him. “Look, I’m sorry that that was out of line. I just- I really like you and I really like that you’re so patient with me and using my damn phone and-” he sighed, “I’m sorry if that’s moving too quickly. I-”

You held up your hand and shook your head. “N-no Frankie. It’s not you. Believe me, it’s not you.” Your voice calmed as you tentatively reached out to touch his hand. “I just- I got out of a long, painful relationship a year ago and I’m still just not quite ready, you know? I swear, it really has nothing to do with you. You’re so kind, and gentle and warm and-”

Words were cut off when he leaned in to capture your lips again. It was like he couldn’t get enough. He was addicted to the taste of you already and it was a huge factor in why he liked you so much. When he pulled away, you were breathless and tried to calm your breathing. Your eyes opened to look into his and you felt at a loss for words.

“We can take it slow,” he said, filling in the silence that overcame you as you sat so close together in the middle of a fairly busy coffee shop. You nodded slowly, the smile growing on your lips which caused him to echo it. His hand came up to the side of your face as his eyes danced around your features.

“I’d like that,” you told him honestly and felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

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[theimprobabledreamersworld]

Been struggling with writer’s block again! I’ve got a new chapter of My Past Became Our Future posted though! I liked writing this one, it was fun! So I hope you enjoy reading it too! 😊

Read on Ao3!

Taglist for this story: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 @stardustlv If you wanna be added, let me know!

Read the story from the start here!​

Here we go... Into Chapter Fourteen...

Chapter Fourteen: I Thought You Weren’t Like Them Anymore.

Warnings: Mild swearing, brief weapon use and mild violence.

“Who will fix me now? Dive in when I’m down? Save me from myself, Don’t let me drown”

Pain. Pain was all that could be felt. So much of it being experienced in one space, it was almost too much to bare. Virgil groaned as the light behind his eyes became more excruciating. He wanted to keep his eyes closed and just sleep, but he slowly remembered what had transpired and worry flooded his body at a rapid rate.

Is Logan okay? Is he hurt? What’s happened to Patton and Janus? Not that he cared much about the other two, Logan was his priority. Logan had always been his priority. He forced his eyes to open and his vision was blurred to a point where he couldn’t make anything out. The more he blinked, the clearer everything became and he saw two smiling faces looking down on him. He groaned and rubbed his eyes before stretching his arms out. He tried to sit up, but the black spots clouded his vision once again. This time though, he had two hands supporting him, keeping him grounded.

“Woah, be careful there Sunshine! You’ve only just re-joined us!” Thomas laughed and Nico smiled. Virgil looked at both of them and smiled slightly before trying to get up again. He was in their room, the room encased by memories. How did he even get up here?

“We brought you up, it was the least we could do and it meant we could check you over properly.” Virgil nodded and slowly swung his legs off the side of the bed. As he looked around acclimatising himself to his surroundings, he began to worry about where Logan was. Did his memories come back? Who was calling out to him before he passed out?

He looked around the room, praying that Logan would be in there waiting for him. Disappointment began to consume his mind along with overwhelming panic. He felt two hands gently touch his back and he flinched at the touch before slowly sinking into it. He took a deep breath and with the help of Thomas and Nico, he stood up gradually. Each step felt heavy like his feet were trapped in concrete but as he eventually got to the bedroom door, everything came back to him and he could finally walk without assistance, though the guys stayed behind him anyway just in case. He needed to find Logan, and he didn’t care what he had to do. Not anymore.

Virgil looked at the staircase and took yet another deep breath before walking down, one step at a time deliberately clinging to the handrail like his life depended on it, each step was agonising but he let his determination to protect his husband take over and the adrenaline did the rest. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked back into the living room, but it certainly wasn’t the scene that appeared before his eyes.

Patton and Janus were placed onto two different chairs. Roman looked pained as he refused to move from Janus’ side, he was desperately trying not cry as he constantly checked for a pulse every minute of the still, unconscious man. Virgil almost felt sorry for him, but he refused to let sentiment cloud his judgement now, he had done that far too many times already and look where that got him. Patton was at the far end of the room, Remus had clearly sorted out bandages for him as his arm was cleaned up and dressed very neatly. He looked up in surprised before growling at Virgil, a rage on his face that he had never seen before. He swallowed lightly before speaking up.

“Where’s Logan?” He said in an assertive tone, it felt odd talking back to Remus, but sometimes you have to fight fire with fire. Remus took out a pocket-knife and spun in around in an attempt to be threatening. Virgil sighed once again in a more impatient manner.

“I just asked you where Logan is, and now you’re showing me a knife. Is that a clue?” He heard sniggering from behind him, and couldn’t help but chuckle mentally at how aggressive he was now being with his line of questioning. Remus waved the knife towards another room before hissing at Virgil this time.

“Go. Or I’ll finish what your precious husband couldn’t.” Virgil saw the knife tremble slightly, behind all of that bravado, Remus was breaking ever so slightly. Virgil knew that he could take advantage of this situation, so he sucked in some air and felt much more confident now.

“Ooh, not from there you won’t. Let me help you.” He took four steps forward until he was right in front of Remus.

“Now. Concentrate. Where is Logan?” Virgil spoke slowly with a patronising tone, something Remus clearly disapproved of.

“Alright. You asked for it.” Remus raised the knife to his shoulder and Virgil tutted at such an amateur move. He slapped the knife out of Remus’ hand, before slamming him up against the wall and knocking his legs out from under him. Remus gasped for air as he was left with a major disadvantage. He tried to get up but Virgil had him pinned down. He grabbed the knife and waved it around in front of Remus.

He crouched down next to Remus, he took the knife away and waited patiently. “Right. Are we concentrating yet?”  Eventually, Remus pointed weakly out of the corridor and Virgil raced out of the room. As he reached the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks when he realised that the back door was open. ‘God damn it, Logan’ He thought to himself, he winced as his legs began to shake with every step he took. He knew exactly where Logan would go. He opened the door to their expansive library and held onto the bookshelves for support until he reached a large bay window. Logan was staring out at the night sky, and the moon bathed him in a ghostly, white glow. It would have beautiful if it wasn’t so heart-breaking to see. Logan raised a hand up and Virgil stopped in his tracks.

“It would be unwise to be in my company right now, Virgil.” The rage in his voice palpable, but he knew that it was directed at himself and not Virgil. So he tutted and rolled his eyes before staggering over to the space next to him in the window.

“Who said I was wise?” He smirked and he saw Logan bow his head in an attempt to not smile at Virgil’s comment. They sat in the window together and Virgil forced Logan’s arms open from their crossed over state and snuggled into them, he felt Logan relax and embrace him properly. He knew what was going on in Logan’s mind. He was hating himself, he was angry that he succumbed to the mind control, he was angry that he hurt Virgil and he was angry about all of the things he said while he was being controlled. Virgil let them sit like that for a little bit longer before he decided to speak and try to calm the chaos that was definitely going on in his mind. He sat up and placed a hand delicately under Logan’s chin so they were looking each other in the eyes.

“Lo. Listen to me. None of this was your fault. Okay? Nothing you said or did was your actions. I’ve been under that control before, and trust me. It is powerful stuff. I know you didn’t mean anything you said. Don’t ask me to forgive you, there is absolutely nothing to forgive. Please, Lo. Let’s just leave with Thomas and Nico, let’s move on and forget everything.” Logan’s eyes welled up with tears, and Virgil knew that he was trying to think of something to say that will allow him to still feel bad about the situation.

“I… could have hurt you. Fuck. I could have killed you.” He grabbed Virgil’s other hand and squeezed it tight as he tried to stop himself from crying.

“Honey, it’s a hard feeling to come to terms with. I’m not going to tell you to forget about it, but I just want to remind you that we’re both here. You didn’t hurt me, and just proved once again that you are the strongest person I know. It takes a hell of a lot to fight Remus’ mind control, and the fact that you overcame it as quickly as you did shows how incredible you are. I love you to the ends of the unknown universe and back.” He smiled at his husband, and all Logan could do in response was pull him into a bone-crushing hug. They held each other for until they heard a loud cough at the door. Thomas had just taken a photo of the moment on his phone and Nico slapped his shoulder in response.

“Guys, we’re losing our window to leave. The others are still in the main room but are pretty pre-occupied. Let’s just grab our stuff and go!” The boys came up to Logan and Virgil then pulled them off the bay window. As they made their way down the corridor, Virgil saw their packed bags and a feeling of hope started to race through his body. They were finally going to get away, he could start his life again with Logan. One without looking over his shoulder, one where safety and security was guaranteed. He went to hold Logan’s hand but then out of nowhere, he felt something wrap around his waist and drag him back into the main room. With a yelp, he was on the ground and he remembered that he was completely unarmed and vulnerable. Virgil sighed and accepted his fate before looking up to see who was standing over him. It certainly wasn’t who he was expecting it to be.

“Roman?” Logan, Thomas and Nico rushed into the room after realising that Virgil wasn’t with them. They all gasped in shock. Roman had fallen to his knees and was gripping onto Virgil’s shirt. He held his hands up, unsure what to do in this situation. He could feel tears soak into his shirt and he couldn’t help the little stab of sympathy that he felt in his heart. Roman was never one of the real bad guys, he did what he was told but he was never as brutal as the others.

“P- p- please. Please, help him. I can’t lose him. I don’t care about Patton or Remus, I just need Janus to be okay. I- I don’t know what to do. I don’t want him to die.” Virgil felt torn. He shouldn’t be helping any of them. They’ve been hounding him, attacking him, they turned the love of his life against him. When he looked into Roman’s eyes, he saw nothing but sincerity. If they stayed and helped though, it just gave them more time to find ways to work out where the four of them had gone. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. He shook his head and extinguished the feeling of sympathy in his heart like a fire. He stood up without a word and walked towards Logan.

Logan grabbed his arm, stopping him from moving towards the open door, towards their freedom and stared at him with a look of disappointment making his eyes sparkle. Why was he stopping him? Did he not want this as much as he did? Janus would be fine… wouldn’t he? He raised an eyebrow at Logan, silently asking him to explain his actions, and Logan sighed heavily before uttering seven words that tore his heart in two.

“I thought you weren’t like them anymore.” Those words echoed in his mind and he knew he was right. He didn’t want to help them, but if he didn’t, this decision would break him over time. It would eat away at his conscious and it would ultimately destroy him. He looked at Thomas and Nico, they both nodded; agreeing with his already made decision.

“Alright. One of you go upstairs and grab my medicine bag out of the bathroom. Logan, you’ll need to take the lead here. You’re more experienced than me.” Nico ran upstairs and Logan kissed him on the cheek before running over to where Janus was lying on the sofa. Logan checked Janus’ airway as he heard Nico running back down the stairs. Virgil threw the bag at Logan who opened it up and grabbed out of few tools.

“Okay, Janus. You better be worth this.” Roman was already at Janus’ side watching Logan with suspicious but desperate eyes. As Virgil walked over ready to help Logan, but first he needed to grab a few things from behind the painting again… just in case they were needed. He rummaged around and smiled when he found what he was looking for before putting them into his hoodie pockets. He silently thanked Thomas and Nico for putting him in this hoodie.

He went to check on how Logan was doing with Janus, but he heard two loud gasps from behind him. He whipped his head around, this wasn’t good.

Remus had Thomas in a headlock, and Patton was somehow awake and holding Nico in a headlock as well. Virgil’s fists instinctively clenched up and he could feel the pain of his nails digging into his skin.

“Well, Virgil.” Patton chuckled menacingly.

“I guess I have a new deal for you.”

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #assassin au #my past became our future #ts virgil #ts logan #ts patton #ts remus #ts roman #ts janus #ts c!thomas #ts nico #u!patton #unsympathetic sides #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #tw swearing #tw weapon #tw brief violence #analogical #pintroverts #redemption arc #cliffhanger

[kyoonqs]

iluso amor ; third part.

↬ summary: Cora has always considered herself elusive, easy to bore and adventurous to the last fiber of her body. One day for no apparent reason, she appears in front of the manager of a globetrotting circus passing through the city where she is temporarily staying to fill her life with magic. Baekhyun, as serious as he is handsome, has no intention of playing a role other than on the main canvas of the circus. He decides to separate Cora from her life of fantasies created by her travels and sets out to show her reality as raw and cruel as he knows it. Or so he believes.

Will time run out too quickly before love and passion devour him and he decides to risk everything for a love that lasts… Forever?

↬ pairing: baekhyun x cora fem!reader.

↬ circus!au ; illusionist!baek x hitchhiker!oc ; strangers to lovers au!

↬ genre: fluff ; romance ; angst ; drama.

↬ length: 9.2 k words.

↬ tag list: @changshapatrol @spacebyuns @fluffyhunnie @soos-goddess @hoho-cham @shadoukiti @sunbyun21​ @mangobaek​ @suhotly​ @pororodks​ @bbhbae​ @blahblahblah-boo @leewalberg​ @byunsbobobu​ @endzii23​ @taeilpathic​

If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know!

↬ masterlist.

When Cora left the trailer in that afternoon, she bumped into a young woman with shiny golden skin, dark hair, and a very pretty, contagious rectangular smile. She recognized her as Talia, she was a member of the group that performed acrobatic skills using various elements from ribbons to hoops and balls. From the moment she saw her, Cora could read how transparent she was and dared to say that she was surely the sweetest young woman in the whole circus.

The girl introduced herself and without losing her smile she brushed her hair behind her shoulders. Cora returned the greeting with a cordial smile of her own, as she caught sight of  another woman approaching. The woman, dressed in black baggy pants and an oversized shirt came up and introduced herself as Ramona. Cora instantly recognized her as one of the women who had entered the arena on the back of one of the horses. Her casual clothes made Cora feel overdressed. She'd wanted to look good on her first day at the box office; for this she had put on an ivory silk blouse with black leggings instead of the jeans and the outlet shirt that Baekhyun had insisted on buying her in a shop window they had passed before settling in Fraga.

“Cora is Baekhyun's girlfriend, she joined us in Monzón.” Said Talia, who seemed increasingly happy with the news.

“I already heard the news. How lucky you are. Man doesn’t have a single particle of waste in his body.” Ramona replied.

Cora opened her mouth to tell them that she was just showing up for work, that she was definitely not his girlfriend but she snapped it shut when Ramona interrupted her with: “Algeria is going to have a fit when she gets back.”

“Actually... I applied for this job because of the vacancy, I didn't know Baekhyun before and I don't think he's interested in me either.” Cora felt embarrassed. She didn't want these girls to get a bad impression of either her or Baekhyun in the first conversation.

“Vacancy? The positions were filled by the time flyers were posted and besides we only needed male performers. Are you sure he has no interest in you?” Talia looked in bewilderment to Ramona, who only shrugged her shoulders with an apology that she had to leave.

Cora was going to investigate a little more, considering the girl's words had given her a lot to think about but she was in a hurry to get to the box office in time.

“I guess I’d better go. It was nice meeting you.” She waved goodbye and headed toward the locker trailer, mentally correcting herself that the place was to be called “The Red Wagon” shortly before. Baekhyun had told her the circus lockers were always called that, no matter the color.

Despite its name, the locker was pale in color. Dotted with a handful of colored stars, it showcased a hanging blackboard with prices according to age and number of family members.

In contrast to the cheerful exterior, the interior was dull and cluttered. A battered steel desk sat in front of a small sofa piled high with stacks of newspapers. There were mismatched chairs, an old filing cabinet, and a radio. Baekhyun was sitting behind the desk, with a calculator in one hand and a clipboard in the other. A single glance at his stormy face told Cora that Baekhyun hadn't had a good day so far.

Baekhyun stood up and gestured for her to follow him, leading her to the window at the side of the trailer to explain the procedure in a soft voice. It was very simple and Cora learned it immediately.

“I'll check every penny and make sure you don't lose sight of the fundraiser for a minute. The circus is on the brink of ruin, we cannot afford to lose money.”

“Of course I won't. I’m not stupid.” She held her breath, feeling that he would deny it, but Baekhyun concentrated on unlocking the hinge on the window. He accompanied her while she dispatched the first clients to make sure she was doing it right, and when he saw that she had no problems, he announced he was leaving.

“Are you going to the caravan?” she asked.

“I'll go when I have to get dressed. Why?”

“I left it somewhat scrambled.” She had to get back to the trailer before he saw the mess. When she started cleaning, she should have saved the cabinets for last, but wanting to scrub thoroughly, she had emptied the shelves to clean them first. The cabinets were clean now, but she hadn't had the time to put everything back and as a result, there wasn't a single surface in the trailer that wasn't occupied by something: clothing, tools, or an alarming pile of whips.

“I swear I’ll pick up everything as soon as I finish here, don’t worry if things are out of place.” Cora said hastily. 

Baekhyun simply nodded, leaving her alone. 

The next few hours passed without incident. Cora liked chatting with people looking to buy tickets and many of the circus employees made excuses to stop by and satisfy their curiosity about her –she guessed they were curious after the information Talia had given her, that they had all assumed she was there for other reasons, very dissociated from work–. 

She recognized some of the men tending the stalls: clowns and several members of a group that performed equestrian numbers. She couldn’t shake the feeling that some of the girls were hiding their jealousy over the rumor floating around that she had managed to “catch” Byun Baekhyun. She appreciated the covert gesture. It gave her a glimmer of hope. Maybe things would work out after all.

Only after the second performance had begun was Cora able to leave the box office to watch Baekhyun perform. She hoped that watching the show again would dilute the shock she'd experienced the night before but she found his performance even more impressive. Where had he learned to do these things?

It wasn’t until the performance ended that Cora recalled the re-ordering she had yet to take care of back at the caravan. She rushed back to the living accommodations and was preparing to open the door when Talia called out to her.

“Come on Cora, I want to show you something.” She closed the trailer door quickly, before Talia could see the mess inside. The young woman took her arm and led her through the line of caravans. To the left she could see the emcee talking to Baekhyun as the workers stacked bleachers.

They rounded the last caravan, and Cora gasped in surprise to see many of the performers, still in performance clothing, around a folding table with a rectangular cake on top. Laia, the girl she had met before, was near the cake, along with Ramona, Fionn –if she remembered her name correctly– and her group of aerialists, various clowns and many other employees she had encountered.

Grinning widely, the emcee pushed Baekhyun forward and Talia raised her hands like a conductor. “Attention everyone, let’s all welcome Cora!” She was speechless.  These people hardly knew her but here they were, extending a friendly hand to her. After spending months away from her family –not to complain of the wonderful travels– she took pleasure in the intimacy of this moment. At this impromptu gathering of future friends, she felt as if her family were welcoming her at the airport, with bright smiles and cheeks numb with happiness. Cora weighed the tears that were beginning to form in her eyes.

“Thank you. The cake looks delicious. I bet everyone wants a slice.” Cora glanced at Baekhyun, who had a lopsided smile on his face, surely trying to hide it. Even if they had only spent the last 24 hours together, she was beginning to grow familiar with his expressions. 

Cheeks burning –somewhat embarrassed– Cora walked up to the folding table, grabbed a knife, and began to slice the cake into neat squares. Someone ordered one of the men to turn the radio dial to a happy station. After all, what was a celebration without dance? 

When Cora had distributed the last of her cake, she watched as a tall boy with dark hair and round, shiny eyes like coins approached Talia. He looked hesitant but still held out his hand and she took it kindly. Guiding her to the center of an improvised dance floor, he then took her by the hips. Both of them mirrored a smile that could only have one explanation and Cora imagined how nice it would be nice to have company like that. In that moment, she thought of how Baekhyun had stroked her cheek the night before and turned to look for him, feeling disappointed when she found no sign of him.

For the next several hours, while the circus was being dismantled for the next town, Cora set about putting everything back into the cabinets. She was filled with a sense of despair that left her hardly able to stand upright but she kept working nonetheless.

The leggings she was wearing were completely dirty and the blouse was sticking to her skin but she didn't care. The little impromptu party and cake had been a small blessing to her but the fact that Baekhyun left the place sooner than she would have thought possible gave her the impression that all the hope she was gathering would only bring her a headache in the future. And she hoped it was just like that.

When Baekhyun entered the caravan shortly after midnight it still looked as messy as when Cora had first arrived. In the morning he’d found out that the circus was supposed to pay more taxes than expected. Afterwards he’d found out his boss would be back soon and with it the idea of receiving more tasks than he already had didn’t sit well and finally... he hadn't been able to get Cora out of his head. And it frightened him to such an extent that he had transformed the unfamiliar feeling into anger.

Although Cora had cleaned and organized the cupboards, she hadn't had the time or energy to do anything else. He rested his hands on his hips and examined the dirty furniture, the dusty tabletop, and the remnants of the cake the artists had insisted she take.

“I thought you were going to clean this up but I see that it’s still just as dirty.”

“The closets are clean. And I washed everything in the sink.” She said through clenched teeth, indifferently.

“Who cares about closets? Don't you know how to do anything right? You don't know anything about real life, do you, Cora? You're here for work, not to get thrown from one place to another for free. From now on, try to think of others, not just yourself.”

Cora's eyes stung as she tried not to cry. Without thinking, she picked up the cake with one hand and tossed it at him. He spread his hands automatically to stop her from throwing it at him, but it wasn't fast enough. The cake hit him on the shoulder and fell apart into a thousand pieces. She watched as the mess, bits of cake and icing flew everywhere. A sticky white substance splattered on Baekhyun's hair, eyebrows, and even eyelashes. Chunks of chocolate that had stuck to his jaw fell onto the shoulder of his shirt. Cora's nonchalance disappeared when she saw him turn red. He was going to kill her. He tried to wipe his eyes as he moved toward her. Cora got out of his way and, taking advantage of Baekhyun's temporary blindness, ran out the door.

She looked around frantically, searching for a safe place to hide. The circus had been dismantled. The smaller tents were closed and most of the trucks had left. She tripped over a bush and ended up taking refuge in a narrow space between two vans. Her heart beat hard against her ribs. What had she done? Had she completely lost her sanity? What if the emcee's introduction wasn't just about a lack of rationality and psychological logic? Could it be that the man's attractiveness had robbed her of her sanity so much that her heart already belonged to him? Was she going to go crazy because of love?

She hated arguing, irrespective of the person and the reason they might have, Cora had never been one to lose her temper so easily. She knew how to listen carefully. She thought before giving an answer and only if it suited her did she open her mouth. But at that moment she had acted with her heart. 

Cora hugged herself, repeating that she was a fool for having too white a heart, for allowing herself to give so many opportunities to people who had rejected her in the first instance, and above all for believing that she had the ability to make a difference in their lives.

She winced at the sound of a man's voice and slid deeper into the shadows, crashing into something solid and human. An alarm went off in her head. She turned around, unable to bear it any longer. Turning, she found a warm fortress behind her and knew she had found a sanctuary. Then she felt something rough under her cheek. The events, the fear, the exhaustion and all the –distressing– changes in her life over the past two days overwhelmed her and she burst into tears.

Baekhyun's hand was surprisingly soft as he took her chin, forcing her to face him. Cora looked up at him. Still stained with cake and icing sugar, he looked fierce and magnificent. She realized that she feared Baekhyun in another way, one that she did not fully understand, she only knew that it was something that went beyond physical threat. It was more than that. Somehow she felt that he could damage her soul.

Cora had reached the limits of her endurance. There had been too many changes, too many conflicts, and she didn't feel like fighting anymore. 

“I suppose now you want to threaten me with something horrible.”

“Don't you think you deserve it? Only children throw things, not adults.”

“You’re right, of course.” She brushed her hair away from her face with a shaking hand.

“What is this about? Humiliation? I've had enough for tonight. Limits? I've had enough too. Pressure? No, that won’t work, I'm too numb to feel it” she paused, hesitating. “I'm afraid you'll have to resort to something else.”

As he looked at her, she seemed so unhappy that something went soft inside Baekhyun. He brought his lips to hers, brushing against them but then he remembered that he shouldn't, so he turned away again. The sugar that hadn’t been cleaned with his sleeve had mixed with the salty liquid of her tears.

He knew that Cora was afraid of him –he had made sure of it– and yet he still couldn't believe that she had had the courage to throw the cake at him. He felt her tremble under his hands. Cora had shown her claws tonight but her eyes showed only despair. Did she know that her face reflected every one of her feelings? He wondered how many things had happened. Who was responsible for making her want to flee each time. 

As he watched her, he had to restrain the sudden urge to pick her up and carry her back to the trailer, where he would lay her on the bed and find the answers to all the questions he was beginning to ask. What would her hair look like down and spread out on the pillow? He wanted to see her naked on the wrinkled sheets, to see the paleness of her skin against his, he wanted to soak up her essence and feel her touch.

The day before, he had told himself that she wasn’t the type of woman he would sleep with, much less be in a relationship with, but he also knew it was a matter of time. He couldn't touch her until he was sure she understood how things would be between them. And by then, there was a good chance that Cora would grab her suitcase and run away.

He took her by the arm and led her to the trailer. For a moment, she resisted and then she followed resignedly. 

“I'm really starting to hate you,” she said weakly, her words almost inaudible. Baekhyun was surprised to find those very words hurt him, especially when that was what he wanted from her. Cora wasn’t cut out for such a hard life and he had no desire to prolong this indefinitely. It was the best he could do.

“Maybe it's for the best.”

“I've never met anyone so cold and cynical.”  “Cold, Baekhyun. You're so cold.” He'd heard a lot of women say that before her. Kindhearted women. Competent and intelligent women who had deserved more than a man whose feelings were long gone before meeting them. When he was young, he had thought that a family could heal that wounded and lonely part of him. But while seeking a lasting relationship, he had hurt those kind-hearted women and proved to himself that he had no feelings to love any of them, even if he had intended to.

They reached the caravan. He passed Cora at the door and stepped inside.

“I'm going to take a shower. I'll help you clean up when I get out.” She stopped him before he reached the bathroom.

“Couldn't you have been a little more pleasant… Or at least try to enjoy my welcome party for one more hour?”

“I am what I am. I’m not pretending. I never do that. Don't get romantic ideas about me. It would just be a waste of time. I have learned to live by my rules. I try to be as honest and as fair as possible. For this reason I overlooked the fact that you threw cake at me but don’t confuse justice with feelings.”

Baekhyun entered the bathroom and closed the door. Squeezing his eyelids shut, he tried to put the play of emotions he had seen crossing Cora's face out of his mind. He had seen it all: caution, innocence, hope, and love, the last one terrifying, the prospect that he might not be as bad as he seemed.

↬ author’s note: next chapters will start to get spicier, as always, hope you enjoy it! as you know, any feedback is welcome ♡ and again: thank you and i love you a lots, Oliv.

#baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x oc #baekhyun x you #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun serie #baekhyun series #baekhyun au #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun scenarios #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo au #baekhyun circus #exo circus #iluso amor

[heyitsyn]

Breathing

a/n: back by popular demand, i will forewarn you. this might make you cry, either from feelings or disappointment. you’ll know in the end

oikawa tooru x reader

(technically part 2 of that oikawa angst but more like part 1.5)

There was one memory.

A memory from the past shared between two children who were filled with nothing but purity and innocence from the misgivings of the world.

A simple blurb from the past.

But it was then that the childish promise was made that was never met.

And it hurt.

...

She was only 10 when it happened.

He already turned 11, but just a few weeks ago.

They sat together in her room as they looked through the picture book of her parents and their past. Of course, she cringed at every picture because these were the same people who had no shame in showing their love through kisses at the front door for the whole world to see. Yet, she also valued the love that was clear-even in the pictures-because they were the evidence for her hope of love.

Tooru giggled as he pointed at the picture of the baby version of her being carried in the arms of her mother while her father stood behind the two, proudly smiling a grin so big that it made his eyes crinkle.

“You were such a flabby baby, y/n-chan!” You looked up from another picture and glared at him before kicking him with your foot.

“So mean, Tooru!”

He looked offended and gently took the picture off of the plastic slot to prove his point of the wrinkly little bean.

“Look! You had wrinkles right here and you weren’t even a day old yet!” He laughed and you couldn’t help but snatch it from his grasp, thinking that his words were true and that you were indeed a fat baby.

You held up the picture to the light to see the wrinkles more clearly but you saw faint lines on the picture.

There was something written in the back.

You turned it over and Tooru saw you flip the photograph so he scooted over next to you to see what exactly was written.

‘Breathing the same air, in the same space, was enough reason to fall in love.’

You tilted your head in confusion and had to re-read through the sentence again to try and understand what it exactly meant. But you were still confused.

Tooru had the same problem and even took the picture so he could clearly see what was being written and not just a misunderstanding of the different characters placed together.

“Fall in love?” you questioned out loud, furrowing your eyebrows together.

He shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never been in love before.”

“Mommy tells me that she fell in love with Papa because he cooked good tonkatsu. Is that what they meant?”

“Baka,” he playfully nudged. “I think it means your father or mother fell in love with you the moment you took your first breath.”

You looked at Tooru with an impressed look in your eyes. “Oooo, look at you, Tooru-kun! Since when did you get so smart?!”

He gave you an unamused smile before hitting your legs, which were laid across his lap. “I’m literate. And I have brain cells. Don’t think you can relate.”

You pouted then crossed your arms. “What about you, Tooru-kun? Did you fall in love with me when we met?”

He paused, thinking about it. “Hm, I don’t know. I don’t remember our first meeting since we were just babies so I can’t answer your question.”

“What about now?” You quietly asked. “We’re breathing the same air in the same space of my room. It mentioned that this would be the perfect situation and enough reason to fall in love. So, what about now, Tooru-kun? Did you fall in love with me now?”

At first, he was quiet. He didn’t exactly know what to say because he’s never felt the feeling of falling in love. Heck, he doesn’t even know what falling in love is! 

But watching your figure beside him, the sun behind you creating some sort of angel-like glow emitting from you, and the strands of your silky hair that fell out from your previous nap. It was enough to make his heart race, he knew that.

So, was it enough to make him fall in love?

Instead, he answered you with a question.

“Do you want me to fall in love with you?” 

You merely shrugged, seemingly oblivious to his rapidly blushing face and the weight of those words as you continued to look at the photograph.

“I mean, it sounds scary to fall in love, you know? If it has ‘fall’ in it, it would hurt, right? I’ve fallen before but I was never able to get up without someone to help me so I don’t want to just fall in love with anyone. Mommy already fell in love with Papa so he won’t be there to catch me or to help me up. And you’re the only other person I trust to help me so…. Yes, I want you to fall in love with me so I can also fall in love with you. That way, we can trust to help each other. So fall in love with me forever, okay? I’ll do the same for you. I promise.”

It sounded good enough to the young, innocent Tooru so he agreed, promising that he will fall in love with you and just you.

Unfortunately, not only was he not able to help you up or catch you at the bottom, but he was the person who pushed you in the first place.

....

Sugawara placed a hand on your shoulder for support after he felt the intense air between you and this chocolate-haired boy. There were no words exchanged but the both of you looked each other up and down, your eyes lingering quickly on that brace on his knee. The restraint to keep the scoff in was almost unbearable but you didn’t care anymore. You wordlessly followed Sugawara back to the team and refused to look back because you were afraid of seeing that look in his eyes. 

They were sad, lonely.

Kageyama rushed to help you and Sugawara with the basket of water bottles before running off to scold Hinata for taking forever in the bathroom, probably puking his guts out. You inspected the gym and quickly found old teammates, who were your past friends. These mentioned friends, Iwaizumi, Kunimi, and Kindaichi, were shocked to see you standing at their home turf and even having to do anything with volleyball.

“y/n-senpai!” Kindaichi yelled and you smiled from the sidelines before walking across to meet his run to give you a hug. He was the same tall, first year with his hugs that squeezed you tightly. You were released but you turned to Kunimi, who bashfully smiled before walking over to give you an equally tight hug.

“It’s so good to see my boys,” you hummed while ruffling their hair with great difficulty. God, they were about your height when you first met but now, they towered over your form.

“Why didn’t you ever visit us, senpai?” Kindaichi whined but you gripped his ear.

“You’re glad I didn’t visit since I heard you both planned a revolt against Tobio last year.” They guiltily looked down as if they were being scolded but you knew how Tobio was acting. He told you himself, expressing the regret with the way he treated them, and you were disappointed, sure, but both boys were in fault for this.

“We had to do something, senpai,” Kunimi quietly reasoned.

“I know you did. We can talk about that later. But you’re playing right now and you’re in different teams so do your best in this match!” You raised an encouraging fist and they both grinned.

“I’ll win this for you, senpai!” Kindaichi, the ever energetic boy, swore and ran to Iwaizumi, who ruffled his hair.

“You too, Kunimi-kun. Do your best, okay? No slacking off,” you scolded lightly with a smile. He playfully rolled his eyes.

“Okay, mom.”

When you went back to the Karasuno side, they questioned you as to how you knew them but once you explained your past in their old middle school with Tobio, they settled down, only telling you that they weren’t worried because you were their manager now.

By now, you’ve taken responsibility for the water bottles of the boys so you’ve gone back to the same place to refill them with cold water. Only to get lost.

“I swear it was right here. What the hell?” you mumbled repeatedly, getting increasingly uncomfortable with the heavy container.

As you ventured down a hallway, you were so sure you got yourself more lost but you didn’t care because you just wanted to get water. There was a serious lack of water fountains in this school making you wonder how these children were being hydrated.

You hummed a song to make yourself feel at least a bit better from being lost but as you turned a corner, you froze.

There he was, sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall with his eyes tightly shut. One would think he was sleeping but you knew he was far from it.

Tooru liked to close his eyes so he wouldn’t have any distractions as he concentrates on the techniques and moves he’d use against a team. This time it was no different so you thought you could easily walk past him without even making your presence known.

But this was Oikawa Tooru.

He was one of the sharpest and most attentive people you knew but when he opened his eyes to peak at your form in front of him, you stopped, eyes wide as if you were just caught doing something bad.

“Hi,” he whispered. You gulped before nodding his way and turning to continue walking.

“I miss your voice, y/n.” His voice was hoarse, hurt and pained, causing you to instinctively stop.

You shut your eyes in annoyance because after all these years, he still managed to control your instincts more than you yourself.

“I know…. God, I know I must not be fair right now since it was my fault for yelling at you and hurting you. But please, just say something to me, anything. Because I don’t want the last time I heard your voice to be your goodbye.”

You remained turned away so you couldn’t see the tears that were welling up in his eyes but you thought that this could be the last thing you could do for him.

“Breathing the same air, in the same space, is not enough reason to fall in love.”

Then you walked away.

He sniffled, crying for both his knee and his lost love.

His wish was never granted.

The last time he hears your voice is your final goodbye.

a/n: yall dont kill me. i just had to do it this way and i know yall are probably screaming and punching the air right now but pls dont be too angry! to make up for this, i have a surprise for yall since youve actually given me so much support and love in such little time. So at 3 PM SHARP (Eastern Time Zone) so watch out for the time and check my account to find your gift!!!

a/n2: also, credits to someone in pinterest for the quote and i thought it was one of the deepest and cutest quotes of love <3

#oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa toru #oikawa fic #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa imagines #oikawa tooru imagines #oikawa tooru scenarios #oikawa scenarios #oikawa toru imagines #oikawa toru scenarios #oikawa angst #haikyuu #oikawa tooru angst #oikawa toru angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x you #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! scenarios

[twomoonstwosuns]

birthday.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: smut (18+), delicious tooth-rotting fluff

word count: 3.4k

a/n: thank you guys so much for being patient, I know this took way too long. if you saw my posts you know I was dealing with some medical stuff and ended up in the hospital for a few days, but I’m better and back at work. And thank you to everyone for your kind words <3 anyways here’s some soft af smut, I hope it makes you feel feelings.

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It had been the longest three and a half weeks of your life. 

Ever since you found out he had threatened to expose your relationship, it was like you saw Hux everywhere. You had never really seen him around campus before, but now he seemed to be around every corner or in every coffee line and you could swear he was watching you. 

You had shed a few tears when you got back to your apartment, your roommates immediately sitting you down and listening to the entire story. You were still in shock that someone could be so selfish to use something so personal to someone as a weapon. Hux was a professor that neither you nor your roommates had had, but he was known as a decent teacher around the school. 

Though decent teacher and decent human being were clearly two different things. 

The collection of your boyfriend’s sweatshirts had slowly started to build since the beginning of March but there was one particular sweatshirt of his that was incredibly soft from being washed so many times that you loved. He always teased you about it because it was also his favorite. So you were surprised to find that sweatshirt plus a ratty well-loved t-shirt that featured a band you’d never heard of before in your bag when you got home, tears welling in your eyes at the touching gesture. 

Class was painful. Twice a week you were able to actually see Poe, but you had to stop yourself from staring at him like you were completely infatuated when there were other people around. Conversations with him were class-related and boring, not exactly the pillow talk you’d grown to love. It rubbed the whole situation the two of you were in right in your face. 

The closest you got to touching him was when he handed you back a first draft of a long essay he had assigned. Your fingers accidentally brushed against his as you took your paper from him and you didn’t get the chance to react because Kaydel leaned over and asked how your paper was looking. You flipped through the pages and were reading through some of the comments he made when you saw two tiny blue post it notes on the fourth page, one with an ‘I miss you’ and the other with a ‘you look beautiful today’ and a drawing of the heart eyes smiley face. You bit your lip to keep from smiling too widely, but you were swooning inside.  

Being told you couldn’t have what you wanted sucked. 

You woke the morning of your birthday with your two roommates bursting into your room blasting Taylor Swift’s “22” and holding your favorite scone and mixed coffee drink from your favorite local café. They had surprises lined up for you that night, starting at seven when you were all done with classes. When they left your room, you laid back in bed and willed the motivation to get ready for class to come to you. Your phone dinged beside you and a smile immediately formed on your face when you saw it was from Poe. 

At least you were still able to text him and call him and FaceTime him. 

You opened the message he sent, seeing an audio message instead of a text. The sound of his guitar filled your ears and the strings plucked the familiar tune of “Happy Birthday”, his voice soft enough to send you back to sleep.

“I miss you, baby,” he said as finished playing “Happy birthday.”

You wanted to text him ‘I love you’ right then and there, but you didn’t. It kind of scared you how strongly you felt about him after only being with him for a few months and the last thing you wanted to do was make this separation permanent. So you stayed quiet, saying it in your head as you drifted off to sleep each night. 

You hated when your birthdays landed on weekdays. There was something so much more fun about making a day out of your birthday than spending over half the day stuck in class. You paid very little attention, going through multiple happy birthday texts and social media posts from friends and family, and of course texting Poe when he was in between classes. 

Your roommates treated you to dinner at a local bistro, a place you had all been eyeing on going since you were freshmen. It was a little more upscale, so you promised yourself you’d make time for it before you graduated. Jessika had left before you and Karé to stop by work, a scheduling issue that she said would take ten minutes to fix turned into twenty and made her late for dinner. The service at the bistro was surprisingly quick for a Friday night and she had to order after you and Karé already placed yours. 

Dinner turned into wanting to grab drinks at Maz’s, the special birthday drink famously known throughout campus. On the way to the bar you got on the phone with your mom and sister, confirming the plan to drive home the next day to celebrate your birthday with them. You were so wrapped up in the conversation of what your mother was going to make for your birthday dinner that you didn’t even notice you weren’t at the bar until the car had stopped and you hung up the phone.

“Wait, what are we doing back at the apartment?”

Jessika leaned forward onto the console and looked at you. “Will you run in and get my card?”

“What? No.”

“Please.”

“Why me?”

“Because you used it last.”

“Um…no I didn’t.”

“Yes you did, last week when we ordered pizza.”

“I gave it back to you.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Oh my god, will someone just go get the card?” Karé said exasperatedly.

“Y/N, go.”

You look back at Jessika and narrow your eyes. 

“You’ve been missing your card for a week and you just noticed it was missing?”

“No time for judgment, just go find it please. I think it’s in the kitchen.”

You rolled your eyes and opened the car door, slamming it on Jessika’s “thank you”. You rushed inside, your phone buzzing with Jessika’s name flashing across your screen. 

“I swear to god Jessika, if you tell me you just found your card in your wallet—“

“I didn’t, I just remembered a few other places you could check in case it’s not where I think it is.”

You took the elevator up to the third floor where your apartment was, Jessika chattering away in your ear. You speed-walked down the hallway, pulling your keys out of your pocket. 

“Are you there yet?”

“Calm down, I’m unlocking the door now. Where am I supposed to look for your credit card?”

“Did you take it into your bedroom at all?”

“No.”

“Then try the kitchen counter first.”

You walked into the apartment, confused as to why it wasn’t pitch black. “One of you left a light on!”

Karé and Jessika both mumbled something incoherent into the phone as you walked towards the kitchen and you suddenly stopped cold in your tracks. Standing in front of you was Poe, his eyes lighting up and a wide smile crossing his face illuminated by the lamp in the living room when he saw you. A single cupcake with a lone candle sat in his hand. 

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

You were speechless, your mouth attempting to form words but failing miserably as your brain wondered if you were hallucinating. Birthday or not, he was the last person you expected to see. 

“Surprise!” Jessika and Karé exclaimed into the phone, taking your silence as the sign you had found your surprise. “We got you for the evening so Poe’s got you for the night! We’ve got Beebs and we’re spending the night elsewhere. Have fun, we’ll see you in the morning!”

They hung up on you but you still didn’t move, still too stunned that this was real. Poe chuckled and blew out the candle on the cupcake so wax wouldn’t melt onto it before setting it down. He tilted his head to catch your eye with a smirk on his face. 

“Sweetheart?”

You set your phone and keys down on the counter and walked swiftly towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your head in his shoulder. Poe returned your fervent embrace, lifting you off the ground as he hugged you just as tightly as you were hugging him. He pressed a kiss to the juncture of your shoulder and you brought your head around to crash your lips onto his. 

Poe’s hand came up to cup the back of your head, strands of your hair slipping between his fingers. You cupped his cheek with one hand, the feeling of his lips finally on yours bringing back the familiar butterflies you’d been missing for weeks. 

You pulled away breathless, a laugh of disbelief slipping from your lips as he set you back down on the ground but keeping his arms tight around you. 

“How!?”

“Jessika snuck me in here after you left. That’s why she was late for dinner.”

Tears welled in your eyes and you let out a watery laugh. This was, by far, the best birthday present you’d ever gotten. Poe looked at you in concern. 

“Hey, are you ok?”

You nodded and gave him a sure smile. “I’m fine. Better now.”

Poe placed his hand on your cheek and brought your lips back to his in a short, sweet kiss. He then reached behind you to the cupcake off the counter, only removing his arm from around you long enough to re-light the candle. You smiled as you blew out the candle, taking a bite of the red velvet cupcake and getting another kiss from Poe to get the frosting off of your lips.  

“I got you something.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Poe said with a soft smile as he reached his hand into his pocket. “I did anyway.”

You set the cupcake down and he placed a tiny drawstring bag into your hand. You opened it and a silver bangle fell into your palm, a small hockey skate charm hanging off of it. You laughed as you ran your thumb across it. 

“Now I’ll have daily reminder of how badly I skate,” you laughed, looking up at Poe to see a humorous smile on his face. “I love it, thank you.”

Poe grabbed it from your hand and clasped it around your wrist, the tips of his fingers moving gracefully against your skin and sending goosebumps across your skin. You admired it as you rested your hand against Poe’s chest, his hands settling back onto your waist.

“So, I get you for the night huh?” You asked, your fingers running over the collar of his shirt. 

“The whole night. Whatever you want to do.”

“How long do I have you tomorrow?”

“Just until the morning. I’ve got a ton of grading to do you and you’re going to see your mom and sister.”

You sighed. “I could ditch them. Say I have homework or something.”

“I can’t have them hating me before they even meet me.”

You giggled and glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Twelve hours isn’t enough time.”

“I know,” Poe said, squeezing your waist and leaning down to kiss your cheek. “We better make the most of the time we have then.”

Placing a hand on his cheek, you brought Poe’s gaze to you. You gave him a small smile before leaning in and placing your lips on his. Your lips moved slowly together, every intention of your desire for him expressed in one simple action. His eyes were dark when you broke the kiss, studying your face as if deciding where he wanted to kiss you next. Stepping out of his embrace, you moved to the living room to turn off the lamp before holding out your hand. He took it, squeezing it gently as you led him to your bedroom. 

You undressed each other slowly, taking time to kiss or touch every new piece of skin exposed. Looking down at you with a hand on your lower back, he guided you back to your bed. His eyes were dark but he wasn’t looking at you like a predator hunting its prey; dare you say there was complete adoration sparkling behind his brown eyes. 

Poe kissed you once more before moving down your body, kisses being pressed wherever he could reach. His lips moved along the outline of your bra, nimble fingers circling behind you to take it off and throwing it aside. He suckled your breasts, tongue gently flicking against your hardened nubs and making you sigh in complete delight. He gave your breasts equal attention before moving down your stomach, the lightness of his lips tickling your stomach. 

Poe’s fingers dipped into the waistband of your underwear and his eyes connecting with yours looking for the ‘okay’. With a sure nod of your head, he tugged them down your legs and tossed them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His fingers curled around the bend of your knee, lips connecting to the spot next to your kneecap and moving upward. His lips ghosted up your thigh, breath hot against you and long eyelashes tickling your skin as his warm breath hit your slick folds. He pressed a kiss against you, a quiet gasp falling from your lips when his tongue ran along you up to your clit. Your hands flew to his hair, a quiet “fuck” mumbled breathlessly and you briefly wondered if it would be selfish of you to ask him to stay between your legs for the rest of the night. 

He grabbed one of the hands that was in his hair and brought it down to rest against your lower stomach, fingers tangling together as he held your hips still while he worked his tongue against you. He sucked your clit between his lips, a high-pitched whine escaping you as you squeezed his hand. 

“Poe, please…” Your voice was breathy, like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. A light tug on his hair made Poe move back up your body, leaving chaste kisses all over you until he hovered over you, chest pressed against yours and his cock nestled against the juncture of your legs. He brought your hands up next to your head, holding them down with light pressure. You breathed heavily, eyes raking over his face from the shine of your arousal on his lips and the slope of his nose to the crinkle of his eyes. “I need you.”

His dark hooded eyes took you in, the pink tint of your flushed skin and the way your lips were swollen from being consumed by his. He had completely melted you into a puddle. He let go of your hand to line himself up to your entrance, his eyes never leaving your face. You leaned up and brushed your lips over his as his forehead came down to rest against yours. He pushed inside you slowly, a quiet moan coming from your throat as he settled inside you. He held still to let you adjust around him, his hand coming up to brush the hair out of your face. 

“Fuck, I miss you,” he whispered as he started to move, his hips rocking into you with a tenderness you hadn’t experienced with him before. A quiet gasp fell from your lips, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. Your arm escaped his grasp above your head to wrap itself around his neck. 

Poe brought his lips down to yours, swallowing every noise you made as he kissed you deeply and slowly, the pace of his thrusts deep and deliberate. His hands ran over your body, already familiar with every curve and every place that drove you wild. Poe connected his lips to your neck, gently sucking reminders of your night across your neck and collarbone. He drove his hips into yours, the movements deep and precise and you felt like he could push you straight through the mattress. 

If he did, you’d hold him tight and drag him down with you.

You put a hand on his chest and he stilled, looking down at you. You gave him a knowing smile as you pushed against him lightly. He smiled and wrapped his arms around you as started to sit up, sitting back and pulling you into his lap. Your hands rested on the side of his neck as you ground your hips against his, the new angle sending ripples of pleasure through your bodies. Soft moans left your lips as Poe guided you up and down his cock with his hands on your hips, his own sounds against your skin making you shiver. You threw your head back, whispered praises from Poe said against your chest. 

He met the movement of your hips, the angle making his cock brush against that spot inside you with each thrust. You clenched around him, the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach beginning to form. Poe kissed up from your chest to your neck, nuzzling his nose against it and letting his teeth gently scrape the outline of your pulse point. 

“Baby…” Poe formed the word against your skin, tears pricking your eyes at the affection behind it. “Let go, I’ve got you.”

Neither of you were going to last long but the amount you cared about it was very little. You wanted it to last, but you also craved the way he made you fall apart, and you knew it would be the first of many rounds that night. Poe claimed your mouth for the hundredth time that night, another kiss of many more to come, before kissing back down your neck to your shoulder. You held him close as you fell over the edge, your whole body trembling and the the rush of your orgasm almost making you cry from the flurry of emotions you felt at that moment. Poe grunted into your shoulder, his breath hot against you as he came, stilling his movements and holding your waist tightly as he spilled inside you.

You felt like you ceased to exist, as if you had come together in the throes of pleasure and become one. 

Neither of you spoke, both of you too afraid of blurting out your shared secret. So you kissed him. You let your lips say the words you were scared to say, but you felt them. Oh, did you feel them. Poe held you impossibly close, as though he could absorb every part of you and take you back with him. His fingertips ghosted up your spine and you rested your forehead against his, breathing the same air as the euphoric high settled into a dream like haze. 

You stayed in that position until you couldn’t, the call of the bed beneath you becoming too great to ignore. Poe laid back, bringing you with so you laid on top of his chest, completely relaxed and moving your head between resting your chin on his chest to look at him and laying your cheek against his beating heart. He stayed inside of you and stroked your hair, neither one of you in any hurry to move. 

You were mostly quiet, too busy basking in each others company to have in depth conversations. Any conversations you did have ended in laughter and the swapping of kisses, limbs tangled together as you held each other as close as you could. Once again, you and Poe fought off sleep as long as you could, dreading the coming of daybreak when you’d have to part until the next time you’d be able to see each other…whenever that would be. 

But you still had that night and while you couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual words, you’d show Poe just how much you loved him over and over again. 

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#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron smut #back to you series #modern au #modern poe dameron #poe dameron fanfiction