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eddiesgorlie · 1 year

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Young and Dumb

YoungDad!Austin x YoungMom!Reader

Summary: Austin and Y/n, the highschool power couple make the big mistake one night and Y/n runs off after two lines show up on the test. Austin never hears from her again until one day at a coffee shop.

Warnings: Small amount of smut. (Let me know if I missed any!) Timelines are super messed up and don’t match with the time that things actually have happened in his life!

Word count: 2,199

Now as I look back at 16 year old me as a 23 year old, I’d tell her to listen to what adults told me: Teenage boys are Young, Dumb and full of cum. That was Austin. He asked me out after a couple months of being science class partners. After the first couple dates, I fell and I fell hard for him. He was always such a gentleman, opening doors for me, paying for dinner and always taking care of me.

My question is how did I think that having sex in the back of his car in an empty parking lot one night was a good idea. What did I say though? We were young and dumb.

Six Years Earlier

I was laying down in the back of his car, completely exposed as he looked in his wallet, his pocket and almost everywhere you could imagine looking for a condom but he came empty handed. “I don’t have one, babe.” He sighed. My eyes looked over his toned body as I could feel was lust. “Just pull out.” I said. “I’m not sure.” Austin said. “Please, Aus. I want you.” I said. He thought for a moment and nodded, lining up with my entrance. He let out a shaky breath as he finally pushed into me and I held his hand as pain and pleasure took over. I pulled him closer to me, needing him everywhere. I whimpered as I felt myself getting close. “Are you going to cum, baby?” He asked. “Mhm.” I moaned. He continued to thrust until my walls clenched around him and he thrusted until he quickly pulled out. Not soon enough. He came on my stomach and collapsed down next to me.

We laid in each others arms for a little while longer before we got dressed and he drove me home. “I love you, I’ll call you tomorrow.” He said. “I love you.” I said and closed the car door.

The next week I didn’t feel well. I had no appetite and was fatigued, I just expected it to be PMS. That was until the nausea and vomiting started. After I was sent home by the school nurse for the “stomach flu” I made the decision to buy a pregnancy test. Once I arrived at the pharmacy and made it to the “family planning” aisle I grabbed 3 boxes of the cheapest tests and headed home after paying.

Sitting on my bathroom floor I tapped my foot as 4 pregnancy tests sat on the counter above me. I couldn’t be pregnant though, I was only 16. I was just over reacting. A moment later the timer on my phone went off and I checked the tests one at a time. The first one, two bold pink lines. I felt sick. I slowly flipped the second one to again be met with two lines.

All I could do was cry, I cried for days, especially once my parents found out. They tried to force me to abort but I refused, this was my baby and I was going to raise it. Austin called and came to my house but I never answered, I couldn’t handle to see him, out of anger, fear and embarrassment. Once I started showing, mom and dad couldn’t handle to see me anymore, they sent me to my grandma’s home in the next town over.

I took GED classes and got my diploma when I was 5 months pregnant. Grandma had money and was very willing to help pay for raising my baby but I refused, it wasn’t right to let her pay. I got myself in this situation so I was going to work and take care of it. I turned 17 when I was 8 months along and had two jobs, my day job a cashier at a grocery store and my night and weekend job as an assistant at a hospital. I thought about Austin a lot, I was so in love with him but I don’t think I could face him now.

I took maternity leave a week before my baby was born. My beautiful Matilda Lori Y/L/N was born on August 16th, the day before Austins birthday. I held her in my arms just looking at her. She had his blonde hair and pink lips. All I saw was him. She looked just like him.

Once my maternity leave ended, I got back to work while also taking classes to get my bachelors degree so I could get a better job, maybe get our own place. Grandma was so helpful, taking Matilda when I was working and when I had my online classes.

Finally I graduated, turned 20 and had a three year old in preschool. I was able to find a great job in marketing at a large company. I truly enjoyed it, I was able to work from home to be with my little girl.

Present Day

I looked through recommended kindergartens on google and tried my best not to cry, she was growing up and I couldn’t slow it down. “Mommy!” She screeched. I quickly shot up from my chair and ran through our house to find her in her playroom with her Barbie and Ken dolls. “What’s wrong, baby?” I said, coming to a halt and slipping until my back hit the door frame. “Look! They married now.” She said, holding the dolls and making them kiss. “That’s great, baby. Beautiful ceremony.” I said. “Mommy? Why do you not have a Ken?” She asked. Recently she had fallen into her “Why?” Phase and that was her main question. “Why do I not have a Ken?” The question made me sad, I hated that she was growing up without a dad but I wasn’t ready to start dating again. We had just moved into our own house in my home town and I was enjoying it just being us girls.

“Well, because mommy hasn’t found her Ken yet.” I said with a smile. She nodded and got back to playing. “How about we go get coffee……And hot chocolate!” I said, watching her light up once I said hot chocolate. “Yes!” She squealed. “Nom Nom Nom! I’m going to eat you!!” I said in a Cookie Monster voice as I chased her to her room. I sat her on her bed and walked to her closet. “It’s a little chilly today so we need long sleeves, ok?” I asked. “Ok.” She said. After digging through her closet, I picked out floral bell bottom leggings, a white turtle neck and a Jean jacket. “Do you like this outfit?” I asked her. She nodded. I helped her get changed and then walked her to the living room. “Mommy has to get ready, I’m going to put bluey on for you. If you need me just come get me.” I said, kissed her head and walked to my room. I decided on wearing a cute white floral sun dress with a cardigan over since it wasn’t too cold. I did my makeup and put my hair up in a claw clip.

I helped Matilda put on her pink converse and put on my matching pair. I locked up the house and got us in the car. “Are you going to get a fancy hot chocolate?” I asked as we drove. “Yes! Very fancy.” She said. “Are you going to get it in a fancy cup?” I asked. “No…” She said. “Are you going to get it with extra chocolate?” I asked. “No.” She said. “Oh come on.” I said. “No! Extra whipped cream!” She said excitedly. “Holy cow! Extra whipped cream?” I asked. “Yes! All the whipped cream.” She said as I parked the car. Thankfully at this time the shop was pretty quiet, just a couple of cars. “Ok, remember, we have to use our inside voices and laughs.” I said as I unbuckled her. I picked her up and set her on the ground, holding her hand as we walked inside. There was just a man and two women in the shop, thankfully not at our favorite table. “Hi! I’ll get a lavender latte and a very fancy hot chocolate, little miss has got an important instruction.” I said to the barista. “Perfect! And what is this request Matilda?” She asked. “Extra whip cream!” She said. “Good choice! I’ll have that ready for you in a second, Y/n.” She said. I paid and put a dollar in the tip jar while we waited for our drinks.

Once we had them and sat down at our table I checked to make sure work hadn’t called before I turned my phone off to enjoy our “Mommy Daughter date”. “Are you excited to start kindergarten?” I asked. “Mhm!” She nodded with a whip cream mustache. “Oh, lick you lip honey, you look like a general from the 1800s.” I said. She licked her lip and smiled.

We talked for a while, mostly about bluey and her toys but I was with my girl, thats all that mattered. A chair squeaked and a tall man with black hair walked towards bathroom, his head down. A couple minutes later he walked back, stopping before his table and turned and walked to ours. Thats when I saw his face, it was Austin. “Here baby, take this and go get all the bakery treats you want.” I said, handing her a twenty dollar bill and Austin sat in her spot next to me. I knew it would take her a while, she was extremely indecisive like her mama. “Hi..” I said. “Hi, Y/n.” He said. We sat in an awkward silence for a moment until he spoke up. “So, how are you doing? I see you’ve got a kid.” He said with a smile. “I’m doing great. How are you? Yeah, I do. She’s the light of my life.” I said with a laugh. “She’s adorable, whats her name? I’m doing good.” He said. “I’m glad to hear that. She’s my little Matilda Lori.” I said. His eyes shot up. “Matilda Lori?” He asked. “Yeah, when I was in the hospital after having her, I couldn’t decide on a middle name, I’m so glad I decided on her grandmas name.” I said. “W-what?” He asked. “She’s your daughter, Aus.” I said. He cleared his throat and looked at her as she couldn’t decide between a muffin or a sandwich. I saw his eyes get teary. “The first time I held her, all I could see was you.” I said. “Why’d you leave?” He asked. “My parents kicked me out and I moved in with my grandma.” I said. “Why didn’t you call?” He asked. “I guess I was embarrassed and scared you wouldn’t love me anymore. I regret not telling you everyday.” I said.

I watched as he collected his thoughts. “She’s 5 and loves playing soccer. Her birthday is August 16th and every year since she could talk she asks for a green unicorn. She’s healthy and is excited to start kindergarten this fall. I work at a marketing company and we just bought a house here this year. Now tell me about you.” I said. “Um- I’m still acting, I’m playing Elvis in the biopic.” He said. “That explains the hair.” I said. “A-are you married?” He asked. “Nope, but miss Matilda over there keeps asking why I don’t have a Ken.” I said. He gave me a confused look. “She’s obsessed with Barbie and Ken dolls.” I laughed. He laughed too. “Are you?” I asked. “No, I haven’t been able to connect with someone since you.” He said. “Same.” I said. I took a sip of my coffee. “I want you to have a relationship with her, she needs a dad in her life. She has a soccer game on Saturday, text me and I’ll send you the details.” I said writing my number on a napkin and giving it to him. “I’ll be there.” He said, putting the napkin in his pocket. “I don’t think we should tell her yet, she won’t understand.” I said. “I agree, she needs to at least get to know me first.” I nodded as Matilda walked over and sat on my lap, giving Austin a confused look. “Stranger danger?” She asked. “No honey, this is Austin. He’s mommy’s friend.” I said. She nodded and started eating her cookie. “It was great talking with you Y/n and it was nice to meet you, Matilda.” Austin said as he stood up. “It was great to see you, Aus.” I said. He grabbed his things from his table and walked out the door.

On Saturday I was sitting on my lawn chair, Austin next to me. He wouldn’t take his eyes off the game and clapped every time she scored a goal. “Can you believe shes ours? She’s amazing, isn’t she.” I smiled. “She really is.” He said. “Y/n, I know it’s been a while but would you want to give us a try again? Its ok if not, I just thought maybe since we have a daughter and because I really miss you but if not I’m ok-” “I’d love to.” I said, holding his hand.

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thestrangestinthisstrangeland · 2 years

Text

As We Lay Dreaming -chapter 8

warnings: aggressive drunken behavior. Mild domestic violence. Verbal abuse. Threat of assault but not acted on and every second of hurt is soothed by comfort.

summary: What comes is long overdue-- both in justice and in love-- but even in the best moment, Glory wonders if this is what's best for her, but she doesn't have to for long as the truth of Dream’s true feelings puts her mind and heart at ease--finally.

AO3

masterlist

To everything (turn, turn, turn)

There is a season (turn, turn, turn)

And a time to every purpose, under heaven

A time of love, a time of hate

A time of war, a time of peace

A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing — the Byrds 1965

It would have been nice.

It was real cute.

Sunlight poured in through the east facing windows. The garden with tomatoes and peppers already on the vine just outside the back door. A kitchen bigger than any she'd ever cooked in and two bedrooms just for them. What a palace.

Glory drove home daydreaming about the little house for rent two towns over with her fingers crossed that the old beater car could run on what fumes were left in the tank. It was easy not to worry about it when she could focus on how much fun she and Loretta would have setting up her bedroom.

Her bedroom.

She paused her thoughts and sank down in the driver seat with a deep sigh and a big grin. Now that had a nice ring to it.

The kids would go on sharing theirs, but she would buy two beds now that she was working at the grocery store and could afford them. Dear old Josiah had said yes before she'd even finished asking if he needed a new cashier. Thanks to him her oldest boy would finally have his own space to spread out at night away from his siblings.

Glory imagined the walls painted yellow and pictured the pretty curtains she would hang just as a song came on the lone top 40 station that only played when she was close to town or in Loretta's bedroom. For exactly five minutes she found "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" envisioning places to hang her plants and where a new couch might fit before the static forced her turn the dial.

Still smiling Glory refused to lose her good mood. She could see it all so clearly.

This place would be hers alone and she would fill it with love. She would watch life grow within those walls— her little seeds, she thought with tears welling— hers to cultivate and nurture without threats and ugliness to ruin or rot what came so naturally to her. She could feel the weight lifting from her shoulders already and blew the breath out in a stream of realief.

Once she'd swung by and packed the kids up relieving their poor aunt Lo of her torment, she treated them to ice cream before heading down the long road home.

By the time they pulled up the dirt drive, the small patch of houses where hers sat was quiet and still and like the skilled mother she'd become, managed to get the kids inside without a single one of them crying and waking the neighbors. It never did make any sense to her why the first people to settle here looked on all this land and chose to stick a bunch of shacks practically on top of one another… easier for survival she supposed.

"Thanks mama" Raymond said as they went up the back steps.

"For what?" She asked, the baby asleep in her arms.

He just shrugged and went inside, leaving Glory to admire her boy and how his kindness made him beautiful inside and out.

It could have been a nice evening.

If not for the call.

Soon as they walked in the door, Glory could see it in his eyes.

"Phone call came for you." Her husband said, watching from his chair as she got the children cleaned up and ready for bed.

"Oh? Who was it?" Glory asked, wiping her daughter's face with a dish towel and smiling at the girl, reassuring her quickly.

"Some woman. Sounded uppity. Talkin' about you coming to sign some papers for– the apartment?"

Yes. Everything had been this damn close to being so, so, nice.

Glory was good at moving things along quickly, and her children, used to this as they were picked up on the shift in her energy and her change of pace. They could tell it was time to listen. Time to be quiet and time to go to bed. So when she made her tense promises that everything would be alright and forgot to leave the door open a crack for the middle boy.

Her oldest lay in the dark with his eyes wide open just listening.

"Hush, keep quiet." He told the little ones who lay there whimpering and talking to one another.

"Is mama okay?" His sister asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm scared." She said when something, probably a lamp or table with an ashtray, crashed.

"I said it's okay." He answered and turned over not wanting her to see him get upset.

When he listened very closely, he could hear his mother's pretty voice replying to his father's overbearing one. She would quietly insist that they not fight while he'd demand that they do otherwise.

Leave her alone!

He squeezed his eyes tighter, small fists curling into balls of rage.

Mama didn't know old Josiah had given him a little pocket knife last week when he came to walk her home (and maybe grab some penny candy too) Said boys needed their tools. He probably meant they needed to cut fishing lines and sharpen sticks.

Protection might fit in there somewhere? It must– and he would do anything to protect her.

Anything .

"Raymond Hill."

He shot up in bed, eyes open wide as plates.

A voice like thunder, but calm as a Sunday morning radio broadcast spoke from the dark, "She is not in danger. I would not let anything happen to her."

His little mouth dropped open as he realized, "You're him! The man from the store! I saw you!"

"Yes, you did."

"You're real!" He said, with a shiver. But then little Ray Hill smiled. "I knew it!"

"I am, yes. Very real." The man showed next to no emotion when he spoke. If there was any, all the boy could detect was a slight interest.

"Why can't they hear or see you?" He asked, looking down at his sleeping siblings.

"They can, but tonight I thought it best they sleep."

"You are one of the good guys, right? Like Superman?"

The man —the Sandman— stepped closer, and his eyes sparkled. Raymond thought maybe he should be more afraid but the truth was, he'd never been less afraid in his life. The only person who'd ever made him feel this safe was his mother, but even she was small. This man was so tall Ray wasn't sure how he fit in this tiny room. "Superman?" The Sandman thought about the title. He must have never taken the time to do that before. "If you'd like."

"That's why she likes you." Ray decided.

"Who?"

"Mama"

The Sandman actually looked surprised, like he didn't realize a kid would know grown folks business.

"Perhaps."

Ray looked over to the shut door and listened to the sound of their voices. "He's gonna hurt her."

"I assure you he is not."

"How do you know? You don't live here!"

"Your mother is much stronger than she realizes. I am only here to make sure that she does not hurt herself in the process of — uncovering her truth."

He scrunched his nose, not understanding. "You mean she's like superman too?"

"What? No. Not at all, but I have my suspicions about her in the best of ways." He said and let his sparkling eyes fix on Ray one last time, "I must go now. It was good to meet you in the waking world. Your dreams are some of the more creative for

a child your age. You have your mother's gifted imagination,"

The boy grinned and fell back onto his pillow content and for the first time in a while he felt hope. Not because the Sandman was real, but because no matter what that white man said, he knew his mother was a superhero."

"Don't you dare touch me" Glory warned in a husky whisper, her eyes fierce but the seriousness missed on her drunk husband.

He withdrew the raised hand waving her away like she wasn't worth the effort. "That's the problem. Been touchin' you too long. I need to get away from you. You suck me dry. Take all my– what they call it? Mojo?" He thought that was funny. His dark frown peeled back into a wide bright grin that became a laugh which stopped abruptly making Glory flinch. "I used to want things! I was onto something with my music! You took it!" He staggered close to his wife, stinking of what she guessed to be moonshine. "I wanted out of this place and you dragged me down. You and all these damn kids. Got me trapped and didn’t even take my name! What kinda mess is that?"

Glory stood there, watching him from the corner of her eye as he swayed. Her jaw clenched as tightly as she clutched her arm where his grip had been. Physically, he hadn't actually done much more than that. Tonight it seemed words would land all his blows, but sometimes those hurt much more.

"Never went down to the courts.” She said casually. “Having a shotgun wedding in a church doesn't mean a thing to the state without the papers but you wouldn’t take me!”

”For what? You're mine! Got all my damn kids. Lay in my bed…” he looked her up and down like she disgusted him “You think you’re really special don’t you. Think you’re better than everyone else from around here. But you ain’t nothin but a spider. Trapped me in your web. I should have run when I had the chance”

“Go!" She spat at him, "Please. Please."

"Ha! And what?" He laughed in her face "What then Glory? You payin' for this house? For food? Nah see, that's all me! How you think the lights turn on and the water runs. I know it ain't no boarding house, like your little voodoo friend, but it's better than what you could give! You aint shit without me. You ain't nothin' but a face… and this." He reached grabbing at the long patchwork skirt she wore, implying her body beneath, but Glory swatted his hands fighting. "Now come on, and get back in that bed where you belong. That's all you're good for anyway. Maybe you'll give me another boy." He laughed loud and nasty and fell against the sink nearly collapsing onto her.

Glory jumped away, tears streaming down her face as she shoved him aside, but just that hint of defiance woke the beast inside and he grabbed her arms pulling her close as he seemed to sober up in an instant, enough to stand tall over her and become the threat she knew.

She held in a scream for the sake of the children and planted her feet eyeing the kitchen for one of the knives. She'd kill him before she let him lay a finger on her body again. Not again. She couldn't bear it. Not after knowing love.

But she wouldn't have to.

The sands swirled around his face like specs of gold dust and his hold on her loosened.

Unwilling to help him, useless anyway from the shock of seeing magic in the waking world, Glory stood and watched as his eyes rolled back and the look on his face went from angry drunk to drooling idiot as he slowly sank to his knees. He looked up at her, sightless. He flashed a smile like a little boy, but that look melted quickly as he whispered something about "taking fire" and mumbling names she didn't know.

War dreams.

He fell over onto his side curling in like a baby.

The house was silent again.

"Reggie?" She stared down at him sleeping.

Sleeping?

No. It couldn't be…

Glory looked up.

In the doorway, waiting patiently for her to notice, was Dream.

The worlds had crossed over before, more than once now. She had the ability to do it, but not like this. She'd been so focused on saving herself from him tonight that she couldn't possibly have brought Dream here, but….

"Hello Glory."

She gasped, stepped back, hands gripping the sink.

The world broke into blocks of color and sound around them. Little squares of light that floated away until the only solid thing left in the black space was him, but she was not asleep and dreaming. She'd never been more awake.

"How can this be?" She shook her head in disbelief. "You can't be here."

He came into the kitchen, his face hinting at a fond memory as he spoke. "A woman once stood at the edge of a dream and told me that anything was possible. I am here."

The breath she held came out in a rush with a smile and Dream crossed the room, extending his hand for her to take and bring her away from her husband who was now lost to a deep sleep on the kitchen floor.

Glory and Dream came to a stop in the doorway standing very close, looking one another over. He ran the back of his hand over the curve of her cheek sighing softly as Glory closed her eyes. "Are you hurt in any way?" He asked already knowing the answer but asking just the same.

"No," She answered, opening them to look down and around at herself for a missed injury.

"Good." He looked at the lamp light in her hair, felt the sticky residue of icecream on her arm where one of the kids had dropped their cone. "Then get your things."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You can not stay here" He said really looking around for the first time. She watched him take in the little house she'd tried so hard to make a home over the years but it had never been easy. "This place, it's not fitting for my woman or her children."

She could hear him talking. His lips moved as he spoke but she still could not fathom how— how? "Dream?"

"Yes Glory."

He looked so— alive. Where was the beautiful being who lived inside her sleeping mind. This was a man. Tall and white as a birch tree without its stripes. His black hair was still wild but it obeyed the laws of gravity here and for just a moment she thought perhaps she was being tricked but Glory felt the familiar stirring when she looked into his eyes that shone like the North Star doubled on black skies. Her full lips pulled up into a reactionary smile. This was undoubtedly the Prince of all her Stories and all she'd ever wanted. But how?

And Dream, seeing her in the flesh, not just through the veil of magic felt a similarly overwhelmed. It was unusual for one of his kind to know such emotion but he stood there and felt it all the same. He smiled back and Glory— have mercy on the poor woman—was undone.

Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths. The soft cotton of her white knit top clung to her skin as tight as she did to him while trying to make sense of it all.

The stars were bright as they trailed down her body. There was something very special about seeing her like this that Glory was not aware of. Through the tiny eyelets of her cream colored top he caught glimpses of her skin in such a pretty contrast— skin that glowed with the finest sheen of sweat from the southern heat. He could hear her heartbeat racing. Really hear it, not like he did when she was asleep, here she was like a live wire, should he touch her too long she might send him flying with a jolt of life.

But, reserved as always, Dream simply spoke, "Stop trying to make sense of how. Just know that it can be done. I've come to your world before, I will come again. Yes, I am here." He was holding back a smug smile. She could tell. Was she that easy to read?

Who cares.

Reaching up, needing nothing more than to touch him in this world, Glory first felt the high arch of his cheekbone, followed by the soft curve of his lips. His eyes closed.

"You feel like me. Like flesh and bone." She said.

Dream opened his eyes, holding her in the light of his stars for a moment before he bent down to kiss her.

Being with him, sharing such intimacy inside the dreaming was already so hard to describe for Glory. To touch and taste him here in the waking world pulled words from her mind in a swirling stream of nonsense– a soft moan wrapped in fluttery lace– prose that would make the most overly dramatic turn away with flushed cheeks.

She could do nothing to stop her reactions of the mind or body. All she could do was give into what happened naturally with a smile against his lips.

Glory's quiet laughter hummed between them. She loved him, asleep and awake, She loved him.

"Do you believe me now?" Dream asked cradling her face, still close but no longer kissing.

"Oh I believed you before you walked into the kitchen, just didn't know how."

He made a face, like he'd been bamboozled and she laughed pushing him away.

"Oh but Dream, look. What do I do? I can't leave him this way!" She leaned over peeking under the table to see her husband still curled over and twitching in his sleep. "He's evil, but to be trapped in that place…"

"You would protect him? After everything?"

"No. I would only have him pay for his wrongs."

"This is payment Glory. This is justice." He said and she stood, turning to look up at him. His voice had gone very dark.

"Maybe you're right, but." She looked over her shoulder, not able to see him but she knew well enough. "Reggie wasn't born this way. None of us are. His daddy wasn't any better than him. Then they shipped him off when he was no more than a baby himself. What he saw over there– well– I'm thankful I don't know. What he brought back with him just woke up what was already inside. What his daddy and this country had already created a long time ago."

Dream looked in her eyes that stared right back into his own without showing her usual signs of humanity. No fear, no worry, she did not care that he was endless. She would have him do as she wished and, truth be told he would do it.

What had she done to him?

"Tell me then." He offered "Let's be done with it."

"Just let him see. Give him…"

Glory turned and walked around the table looking down at her husband with Dream never taking his eyes from her. She really was the most beautiful…

"Dream?"

"I'm listening."

"Give him-- dreams of me,"

"Of you?"

"Yes. Me. No, not of me. Me. I want him to live my life, the last ten years. But let him know it. Let him know who he is. Let him be a passenger so that he can know what it's like being married to him."

"You have a talent for this." Dream said, coming to stand at her side, eyeing the woman as an equal.

Eyes on the sleeping man now, Dream, pulled his pouch, drew the sand and lowered to say the words, "Reginald Davis. We give you the gift, of Glory's Nightmare." He blew the sands that worked their charm as he rose to stand next to Glory again.

Watching him, Glory noticed that Reggie's face at peace for a while, he even looked happy-- until slowly but surely it began to twist and change, He curled further in on himself. His right hand flying up to shield his head, and Glory turned away, finding comfort in the black coat of the Dream King.

"I don't know, this is all I've ever wanted" She said quickly shoving her clothes into the suitcase. Dream stood watching in the bedroom. "But now that it's here, I just– well I'm afraid I guess."

"Change can be a frightening thing"

"You love change." She said glancing back, a dress draped over her forearm.

"I don't love change. I love very few things." He replied factually. "Change is inevitable and trying to stop it from happening has always proven to be a waste of effort in my experience. However. You can make change happen for the better."

"Is that was this is?" She paused looked around, looked at the room, her shoes by the closet door, on her mother's lace overtop the dresser with her picture and some books. She looked at the window, open as always and the bed where she would lay and go to the one who stood here now ready to take her away… to where and to what? "You know I'm not sure I want to be saved by another man."

"You feel I'm saving you?"

"I think you think you are. I was ready to do it on my own."

"He would never have let you."

She paused, thought of the heap lying in the kitchen living her nightmare. "I know but… well what do I owe you? I know you're not really a man but you have needs same as all the rest. Until now you had nothin on me. If I let you do this, take care of me— I'm yours just like I was his. Same situation all over again. I can't do it again. I can't," She whispered feeling her breath grow shallow.

Dream was there pulling her up before she could sink down onto the bed. "Owe me? I have been known to hold people to their debts yes, but this, Glory" he said her name like it was a word of life and magic and love. She looked up and wished so badly that he could for just a moment not look like this. It would be easier to talk to him if he were plain and blunt and flat. Not this facet of light like the edge of a cut gem. "You owe me nothing. I will never ask anything of you. Not even that you return my love. I want only one thing."

"And what is that Morpheus?"

"That you and your children live safely, comfortably, maybe even have time to laugh as your kind do. I have heard each of you laugh Glory and it is a sound that I could listen to until it fades from this world" He admitted outloud and probably to himself.

She forced the smile away and the tears. "Where would you take us?"

"I own several properties. One is not far. I have transportation waiting if you decide it's what you want."

She looked away thinking "If you show even the slightest change, I'll go. I can't live like a caged bird."

"And I would never cage you."

With a nod she let herself smile. "Did you… did you say something about your love for me?"

"Ah, that did come out didn't it." He said looking only slightly embarrassed.

She grinned up at him and even though the night was strange and bittersweet, Glory put her arms around the waist of the endless that had left his kingdom for her. "It's alright. I already know."

"What do you know, Glory Hill?"

"That you love me."

He looked dangerous, dark, beautiful. "Is that so?"

She scrunched her nose as she nodded. "Mhm. How far is it? That walk from your world to mine?" She asked to prove her point.

With one hand, on her shoulder he looked away. "Time is not measured with words in the Dreaming."

She felt a tingle in the back of her brain. She hadn't thought of it while awake but asleep she knew the feeling.

"Neither is space. But I stepped off the tallest mountain. Fell through the darkest ocean." He looked down and ran his hand over the soft black coils of her hair. "I walked the shores of white sands and up the steps of a great ruin to come to your door."

"Because you love me?" She asked again, the humor gone, only the need to hear him say it left.

"Because I love you."

Glory swallowed, the angle of her neck allowing Dream to watch the way her throat moved. His thumb grazed the delicate skin. He could slip this shirt from her shoulders, and pull that skirt off her hips. He could also wait and see her safe and sound to her new home...

"But you already knew." He smiled.

Glory laid her head to his chest, the black fabric of his shirt as soft as her first memory of love. She held him tight. "I already knew."

#sandman netflix #the sandman comics #sandmancentral #the sandman/original female character #the sandman fluff #the sandman hurt/comfort #dream of the endless romance #dream of the endless/female character of color #dream of the endless #dream of the endless in love #dream of the endless fanfiction #dream of the endless happy #original female character #black girls have feelings too #soft black girls #soft af #black girls in love #black girls are magic #stars in my eyes

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choppersincoming · 3 years

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i am once again thinking about walter “radar” o’reilly going home to his mother in his class a uniform looking about a decade older, with no teddy bear, yelling at people on the phone. he wakes up earlier than her, now, and sometimes she looks out her window to see him standing alone in the pale blue quiet of dawn in the wide, flat fields of iowa, with his head tilted to the empty sky. listening for something.

#he makes the cashier at the grocery store cry over the phone and hes so sorry #but when he hangs up he tells his mom gee sparky wouldnt have even been able to hear him if he was talking that quiet some days #she wakes up every morning to a steaming cup of coffee on her nightstand and she for the life of her #doesnt know how he does it without waking her up #yes i am transmasc why do you ask #GOD.#radar o'reilly #mash

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lovecanyon · 2 years

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HARRY AND BEAU

dad!harry x reader

summary: harry goes shopping with beau and gets bombarded by paparazzi

MASTERLIST

"Darling we're leaving now."

Y/N looks up from her laptop to see Harry holding Beau on his waist. She gives him a nod as he makes his way to her. He leaves a kiss on her forehead making her smile in content. The four year old leans in also, kissing her cheek with his dad making sure he doesn't fall on his pregnant mom's stomach.

When Harry found out Y/N was pregnant again he remembers jumping for joy. He always dreamed of having a large family and it was finally happening.

Meaning Y/N was pregnant, she couldn't be out in public for long periods of time. Her previous pregnancy was so easy to hide because of the pandemic and being in quarantine. Now that was all over Harry had to create a even bigger shield for Y/N.

"Be safe please." Y/N hums shutting her laptop. Harry gives her a nod and smile before walking out of the front door.

Hampstead was where their children were going to be raised. Harry and Y/N made the decision when she was pregnant with Beau. It was a relatively safe place, children were playing in parks safely, many gated communities, a lot of bakeries and book stores Y/N loved.

It was a win win for them.

"Daddy when is mommy going to have the new baby?"

"Around the summertime bubs." Harry tells Beau making sure he's secured to his booster seat. Once he's all bucked in Harry shuts the backdoor and rounds his way to the drivers seat.

Before turning on the engine Harry turns his head to check on Beau. When he sees his son busy playing with his plushie he begins to pull out of the driveway. The security by the gate gives him a nod which Harry returns before driving off.

Music from one of Y/N's Apple Music playlists was playing on the speakers. Harry was softly humming to the song taking glances at his rear view mirror, checking on Beau.

These moments were the type Harry loved. It may not be much but spending time with his son made him want to cry tears of joy. If you would've told him a few years ago that he was going to have children with the Y/N L/N he would've laughed in your face.

But now he could finally shout to the world he was a father.

Harry truly was at his happiest. He was way more than pleased with his life.

"I don't like."

"You and Mum ate a whole bag last night?" Harry furrows his brows at his son pointing at the strawberries he just put in the cart. Beau gives his father a shrug which he laughs at.

"Red." The four year old tells him. Harry widens his eyes realizing he was taking about another fruit.

"You mean tomatoes bubba?" Harry asks Beau who shrugs once again. "You see these are....tomatoes." He pushes the cart to the red fruit as his son makes an O with his mouth.

A camera flash makes Harry's smile drop. Turning his head to the isle behind him he sees a two girls smiling at him with their phone camera's pointing directly at him and Beau. Swiftly he pushes the cart to a isle closest to the back of the store.

But no matter where Harry goes the two girls keep on following him, thinking he doesn't see them.

It made Harry mad at the fact that he had only been in the grocery store for about ten minutes and already fans were following him. This wasn't one of his shows where you just can record him without his permission, this was his private life, he needed moments to himself.

In a hurry Harry darts to the register to begin paying for what was in the cart. Beau who was sat in the cart stares at his dad who hurriedly pulled out his wallet.

"Um I wanted to tell you for your guys safety there are men with cameras outside." The cashier gives Harry a look of pity when she sees his face completely drop.

"Thanks for telling me." Harry softly smiles before slowly making his way out of the grocery store.

Of course paparazzi were surrounded around his Range Rover. They all started to shout when they saw Harry with his son. Quickly Harry picks up Beau from the cart as he blindly reaches for his car keys in the back of his trousers.

The four year old digs his head into his fathers shoulder trying to hide from the flashes and screams. Harry mutters out a few apologies to Beau when he pulls away and puts him in his booster seat. Right when he was strapped in Harry immediately rushes to the divers seat.

Once Harry turns on his car he races down the street fleeing the scene of cameras.

Glancing at his rear view mirror he sees Beau darting his eyes back and forth at the windows looking skittish. Harry frowns as he stretches out his arm in the backseat.

Instantly he felt a little hand grab onto his.

"I was scared daddy." Beau whispers making Harry grab onto his hand tighter.

"You shouldn't be. I will always protect you, no matter what." Harry turns his head and glances at his son who's smile begins to grow.

"You promise?"

"I promise you bubs."

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @drphilssoulmate @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @academiaghosts @evanjh @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @hrryscherrys @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @newyorker14 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @eunoiamaa @kaitieskidmore1 @gublerscherry @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @diorsitgirl

#harry styles x reader #dad!harry #boyfriend!harry #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fluff

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lunarbuck · 2 years

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I Tried (you promised pt. 2)

~ Pain is such a strange thing. The world keeps turning; you keep breathing. ~

pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader (any race)

WC: 2.3k

Warnings: angst, swearing, blood, mentions of violence and injuries, some closure

A/N: This is part two of You Promised :) I hope you all enjoy what I wrote, lmk what you think!!

Part 1: You promised | Part 3: I Know

series masterlist | main masterlist | one shot masterlist

Pain is such a strange thing.

Some days, you wake up and feel fine. The world keeps turning; you keep breathing. You go to the store and buy your groceries; you compliment the cashier on her earrings.

Other days, you wake up and feel how cold the bed is. Your heart clenches in your chest, and you feel the weight of your guilt pressing against you. You curl up on the couch and stare out the window; you cry.

In many ways, you were right when you’d told Bucky that you would hurt for a while and then you’d get better. On good days you’re able to tell yourself that you’ve moved on, you’re better off without Bucky, but those days are few and far between.

Bucky and Sam make headlines nearly every night for their hard work and dedication to keeping the world safe. It’s hard to see him. You can tell he’s not doing well. Tonight, he’s trending on Twitter because of a particularly dangerous rescue mission he and Sam executed. Bucky always hated being interviewed by the press, and as you watch the video, you can see how uncomfortable he is. Nausea rolls over you when you see more photos of him from the last few days.

He’s lost weight, and he has dark bags under his eyes. The worry lines on his face are deep. He looks so tired. As the journalist asks Bucky another question, you pause the video and just stare at Bucky. You try not to wonder how he’s doing, if he’s happy with the choices he’s made. So instead of wallowing on it, you shut off your phone and shove it under a pillow. Out of sight, out of mind.

If only it were that easy.

The streets are crowded, people are pushing and shoving at each other to try and see something, but you’re not sure what. The second you stepped out of your office building, you were swept into the crowd, and you felt like you were drowning in all the people around you.

As you force yourself through the crowd and toward the street you parked on, you hear someone shouting about Captain America and the Winter Soldier. Even though you try not to, you whip your head around to look for Bucky. You catch sight of the tip of a red wing and hear Sam trying to clear the area but no Bucky.

You shake your head at yourself for trying to find him; distancing yourself from him has been helping, and you don’t know what you’d even say if you saw him.

When you finally break through the crowd and find your car, you loose a big breath. That was the first time you’d even come close to being around Bucky. You slide into your car and shut the door with a huff. There’s still a crowd of people down the street. The feds are holding everyone back while Sam flies around looking for something.

It’s hard not to wonder where Bucky is, what he’s doing. How he’s feeling. Since breaking up, he’s seemingly been doing more missions, taking on more work.

You pull your wallet out of your pocket and tug the eulogy you’d written all those months ago. It’s crumpled and worn from all the times you’ve read it and folded it, but you have it memorized at this point. It doesn’t matter that some of the words are faded.

You’re not sure why you still hold onto it. You’d poured your heart into it; there’s a piece of your soul trapped in this paper. When you wrote it, you told a story of endless love, of perseverance, of strength. Now, as you read it over, it feels like you’re dragging glass through your chest. As much as you wish you could say you didn’t, you still have that love for Bucky. He was your endgame, the love of your life.

Tears brim in your eyes as you read over the lines, as you relive the moments of writing it. That love, that pain. As much as you wish you could let go, you can’t.

You tuck the paper back into your wallet and wipe your tears before starting your car. As your engine turns over and hums to life, you take a few deep breaths. Now isn’t the time to be focused on the past; you’re making progress with moving forward.

The apartment is cold and empty when you walk in, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is off. You try to ignore the feeling as you change out of your work clothes and into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. In the time you’d lived with Bucky, he’d taught you to be vigilant and aware of your surroundings, so you start going through the motions of clearing the apartment.

You go room to room, checking that your windows are locked and that nothing is out of place. Everything is as it should be, but when you step into the spare bedroom that you’d converted into an office, your heart leaps out of your chest.

There in his leather jacket stands Bucky Barnes. His face is streaked with dirt and blood, and there’s a tear in his jeans that looks fresh. You stumble backward, and nearly trip as Bucky starts to walk toward you.

“I’m so sorry–”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You ask, gasping for breath. Bucky holds his hands out to show you that he’s not holding anything, but you don’t care. You just want to know how he got in and why he thought it was a good idea to show up in the first place.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” he says cautiously. His hand flies to his ribs, clutching at his torso. “I needed to get somewhere fast; I didn’t know you were coming home right away. I’m sorry, I just–”

“You just what? Thought you could break into my apartment? What were you planning to do if I hadn’t come back?” You can’t think of a good reason, a good explanation. Your eyes fall to his abdomen, his black shirt sticks to his skin, and you can smell blood mixed with sweat. It’s probably his blood; he’s injured.

“I needed to get out of there. I just need to clean up my wound, and then I’ll be gone. I promise.” I promise. Bullshit. You start to shake your head, but pain twists in your gut. As upset as you are with him, you don’t want him to bleed out in your office. You let out a sigh and slump your shoulders, giving up.

“Be quick.” Bucky grimaces and nods as you step out of his way. He quickly shuffles to the bathroom, and when he passes you, you hear how labored his breathing is. Before the breakup, if he came home injured, it was never this bad. Why hadn’t Sam helped him this time?

You follow a few paces behind Bucky to the bathroom and lean against the doorframe as he peels off his jacket and shirt. He’s lost weight, you notice it in the way his shoulders have shrunk, and his ribs poke out more. You can tell the wound is bad; it’s red, angry, and bloody. You’re surprised he doesn’t have a punctured lung.

Bucky avoids your gaze, opting instead to look for the extensive medical kit you keep under the sink. He pulls it out and finds the supplies he needs, but when he goes to clean the wound, his hand shakes too much. Even the vibranium limb isn’t steady enough. He’s in pain, too much of it.

He looks up at you, and you see emotion swirl in those deep blue eyes of his. You see the question he’s silently asking you. You wordlessly nod and take the antiseptic from him, crouching beside him. Warmth radiates from his skin, and his smell invades your nose.

Gently, you clean his wound. At a time, you would’ve cried while doing this, but after so many times, you became numb. You don’t react when he hisses at the sting; you don’t flinch when his abs clench with discomfort.

You dispose of the antiseptic and inspect the wound, it’s deep, but you don’t think it ruptured or punctured anything important. He’s a lucky son of a bitch. It’ll need stitches, though, and since he didn’t go to a hospital in the first place, you know you won’t be able to convince him to go to one now.

Bucky doesn’t ask you what you’re doing or if you’re okay as you thread the needle and begin to sew his wound shut. He knows better than to push it. You make quick work of the stitches. They’re clean and neat from so many attempts in the past.

“Thanks,” he says as you place a bandage on the wound. Your fingers linger on his torso for a moment, and you relish the feel of his skin fingertips. It’s something you’ve missed, being pressed to his firm chest when you wake up in the morning.

He’d been like your own personal heater. Sometimes you’d wake up sweating and have to throw the blankets off. Despite years of fighting, scars, and wounds, his skin has always remained soft. You loved tracing the scars and marks on his shoulders, chest, and abdomen. One time you even connected all of them to make the world’s worst connect the dot picture.

You quickly snap out of the dream and stand, not looking into his eyes. After a moment, you register that he spoke. “You’re welcome,” you reply quietly.

After Bucky collects his clothes, the two of you walk out of the bathroom and toward the front door. Tension hangs in the air, and you can tell he wants to say something, but you aren’t sure you want to hear it.

You reach for the doorknob and twist it when Bucky places a hand on your arm. You tense up, and you hear him groan.

“I need to say something, you don’t have to react or respond or even listen, but I need to say it.” You turn around and finally meet his eyes. Tears well in the corners, and your heart twists as one falls onto his stubbled cheek.

“Fine,” your voice is barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry. I know I fucked up and I’m not gonna say that I didn’t. The second I had you, I stopped trying, and that wasn’t fair to you, you deserved so much better, and I am so sorry that I didn’t see that before. You were right to be upset with me, and you were right to break up with me. And I bet it’s fucked up for me to say this, to even think it, but I don’t know how to live without you. I tried, I really tried to, but I couldn’t. Nothing makes sense without you. The world doesn’t fucking spin.” Your breath catches in your throat; you don’t know how to respond. He has no right to come back into your life and dump this on you, he made his choices, and you made yours.

“Bucky–”

“Please wait,” he says, shifting his hand down to hold yours. “You don’t have to take me back. I didn’t come here expecting that, and I’m not even gonna ask you to. All I ask is that we try. I can’t go from you being my best friend, my future, my everything, to nothing. We don’t even have to be friends. We can be civil.”

Civil. What the fuck does that mean?

“Did Dr. Raynor tell you to do this?” you ask, making no effort to pull your hand away from his. “You know I don’t like her methods.” You think she’s a horrible therapist, a horrible fit for Bucky, but it’s not like you had any say in the matter.

“No, she told me to move on. This is my idea.” You raise your eyebrows at his confession; it’s surprising. You turn the rest of the way to face Bucky, and little by little, tension releases from your body.

“Thank you for apologizing,” you say quietly. “It means a lot. But I don’t know about this; I don’t know that it’s healthy.” You also don’t know if you can handle sitting at a cafe with Bucky and pretending like everything is fine.

“Just once a month, 45 minutes. I’ll buy you lunch or something, and we don’t even have to talk. If you hate it, we never have to do it again.”

“Don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up for you to be asking this of me?” You ask, scoffing a bit. “After everything I asked you for over the years, and now you want me to do this for you?”

“I know, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, kindness, or your time. I’m trying to do better, to be better. I’m trying.” You stare at him for how long you’re not sure. Silence settles, and you can practically hear Bucky thinking.

“I’m free next week. We can meet on my lunch break.” He doesn’t react the way you expected him to. Instead of puffing up and smiling, he nods slowly and furrows his eyebrows. He’s probably trying to figure out why you agreed, and honestly, you’re not sure why you did it yourself. “This doesn’t mean I accept your apology or forgive you.” Another nod.

“Thank you,” he says, stepping around you and toward the door. Bucky opens it and steps out into the hallway. “For everything.”

You meet Bucky during your lunch break once a month for the next three months. Once a month turns into every other week.

Progress feels good, civil feels comfortable. All is not forgiven, you’re not sure if it ever will be, but your pain has eased significantly. It’s still there, a reminder of what happened, but you’re trying to move forward.

Bucky is trying too. Sometimes, that’s all you can do.

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

tagged: @peaches1958 @scxrletrecsmarvel @prettylittlepluviophile @writerwrites @w0nderw0mansw0rld @thefandomplace @kotlclover2021

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sageworld · 3 years

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Maniac Pt 3; Rafe Cameron

Warnings; Toxic Rafe, mentions of sexual assault, pregnant reader, MAJOR time jump, read at your own risk please !

13 months. You had been trapped here for 13 months. You don’t remember exactly when but you realized you just had to come to terms with it, there was no escaping Rafe Cameron.

Things didn’t get easier when you found out you were pregnant which was somewhat forced upon you by a night of Rafe’s addiction to the white substance. You tried to pull him off but couldn’t, when he woke up he had supposedly no recollection of the incident but apologized. They began to monitor you more about 6 weeks later when they found a test sitting inside of you dresser while Rose was doing laundry.

Ward, Wheezie, Rose & Rafe were jumping with joy when they found out. Ward happy to finally be a grandfather, Wheezie finally getting a niece or nephew, Rose just happy to have a baby around & Rafe saw it as a passage. A passage to get you to forgive him, to finally be happy with him again. They watched everything you consumed & when you did, wanting the baby to be healthy. Making sure you did at least an hour of some kind of work out everyday, it made you feel weird like some sort of child.

It did however give you some freedom. Now, the Cameron’s knew you wouldn’t leave them now that you’re pregnant so they’d let you go out by your own from time to time. Being eight months at this point you decide it’s time to upgrade your closet. New mom clothes, new baby clothes, hell even some more maternity clothes. You of course already had all these things but more couldn’t hurt.

“Rafe, I’m going to go run some errands, do you need anything?” You called out, breathing slightly off from walking down the stairs & your belly being so big. “Uh, depends where are you going?” He looks at you quickly, playing GTA with Ward on the couch. This had been a new hobby of theirs for a few weeks now. “Evangelines & probably to the grocery store.” You place a hand on your back. “Oh yeah can you get me some of those sour gummy’s?” He asks, not looking up at you this time. “Yeah, need anything Ward?” “Oh no not me but Wheezie has been asking for pickles all day, would you mind grabbing some?” He offers a smile, “No problem, see you guys later.” you begin to walk out. “Later babe!” Rafe calls out as you make your way out the door.

“Shit.” You mumble looking down at your phone realizing it’s dead due to the aux as you pull up to Evangeline’s. Well, if you’re quick enough you’re sure Rafe won’t care.

It’s a lot of trying on & asking your belly for help deciding but you manage to make it out in good time, looking at the clock on your dash it reads ‘7:08pm’. You could make it to the grocery store & be back in reasonable time. Or so you thought.

The second you step foot into the store, you’re hit by the scent of the deli. Oh how you loved grocery store deli foods. Quickly making your way over, you pick up a combo plate, deciding you’d just eat it in the car. As you stroll pass the isles you see so many yummy items that the baby boy in your belly seems to be crying out for. You stop at the mint oreos, not even caring at this point & open the pack, munching as you stroll through the isles.

Every single item you had craved & been denied of during this pregnancy was at your fingertips & god were you indulging.

You decide it’s sadly time to head home. Walking up to the cash register you can’t help but to ask the cashier, “Hey, what time is it? My phone died.” “It’s about 9:50.” you’re heart drops. There’s no way you had been in here for 2 and a half hours. After collecting your bags your hurry you way to the car, slamming the trunk & door behind you.

You feel like you’re about to explode as you watch every minute pass. ‘9:57’ ‘10:02’ ‘10:09’ You’re finally back home. You don’t bother to grab the bags, knowing Rafe will come & get them after he yells at you. You softly open the door and hear foot steps come barging down the stairs.

“Where the fuck were you?” Rafe almost growls at you, his hair messy. “I just lost track of time Rafe I-.” You were cut off, “Oh you lost track of time? Shut the fuck up. Why didn’t you answer my calls & where were you?” he grabs your face with his hand. “I was at the grocery store, my phone died I promise Rafe, all the bags are in the car.” You cry out, petrified. “Don’t you ever do some shit like that again, you’re lucky you’re carrying precious cargo.” Rafe roughly let’s go of your face, referring to your son. He walks past you & out the door, to get the bags.

You stand there & begin to cry, not knowing what else to do. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?” You hear Roses soft voice before feeling her pull you into a hug. “He’s so mean to me.” You cry into her shoulder. “Shh it’s okay, he only does that because he’s worried about you. He loves you & you know that he just has a hard time showing it.” Her hands rub your back. “But I don’t like it.” You’re sure Rafe can hear your cries from outside at this point. “I know, I know let’s go upstairs okay? I think you just need some rest.” You nod, not wanting Rafe to come back in & see you.

You go into your rooms bathroom to change, staring at your reflection for obviously a bit to long when you hear a knock at the door. “Can I come in?” It’s Rafe. “Doors unlocked.” You mumble & hear the nob turn. “Hi.” He stares at your body that’s only being cover in bra & underwear. “Hey.” You grumble. “Baby, I’m so sorry I yelled at you like that. I was just worried, okay? I was worried you were trying to hide from me again & you know how I get when you hide.” He tries to explain, putting one hand on your face & one on your stomach. “I don’t like it when you do that.” You let your face rub against his hand, craving this Rafe.

This was the Rafe you had fallen in love with all those years ago, he was kind & gentle, he could make you feel like you were his only person. The Rafe you had now could still be gentle at times but only after some of his most horrendous acts. “I know you don’t but still, your actions are what make me do this.” Bullshit.

“You’re sick Rafe.” You pull yourself back, fire growing in you. “Everything always has to be my fault, huh? All of your actions? Why is it always on me? When we were 10 & you pushed me off my bike it was because I wasn’t going fast enough, when I don’t cum it’s because I wasn’t putting in the effort, hell when I don’t like my food it’s because I don’t know what I ordered.” You’re voice almost begging, begging for him to hear you, to see what his actions do to you. “Rafe, I can’t tell if I love you anymore & that terrifies me. We’ve been together for 12 years & I don’t know if I love you anymore.” You hold his face that now had tears going down it.

“You don’t mean that.” He roughly puts his hands in your hair, tugging you by the scalp. “You don’t fucking mean that, take it back, take it back!” Rafe gets louder with every word. “No, no.” You scream as he gets tougher with you, “Ward help me!” You cry out. You cries had been heard as Ward comes busting it & pulls Rafe off of you, Rose & Wheezie behind him. “Oh my god.” Wheezie says looking at a chunk of you hair that was balled up in Rafe’s hands. At this point he’s kicking & screaming trying to get out of his dads embrace and back to you.

“Rafe, calm down, I didn’t raise you like this.” Ward yells as Rose comes pulls you up, trying to take you out of the bathroom, still with barely anything on.

‘Bang’ You hear something slam followed by the mirror break, Rose still pulling you away. You’re unsure of what happened but know it was bad.

Fuck your life.

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justbreakonme · 2 years

Text

Good Enough

It didn’t take long for them to fill up a cart. Coffee and crackers were easy, but they’d committed to making an effort for Sidekick.

The grocery store thankfully also had a small section of non-food stuff. So a fresh bottle of shampoo and body wash, some floss, deodorant, socks, a pack of pens, and a book of sudoku puzzles. Assistant was gonna make fun of them but damn… Poor kid could do with at least a little entertainment.

They also grabbed some underwear (that they felt very weird buying but they also would feel weirder knowing that Sidekick wouldn’t have any but the pair they were wearing).

Food was less thought intensive. They still knew their culinary limits though, so quite a bit of frozen food made it’s way onto the conveyor belt. Frozen pizza, frozen chicken, frozen lasagna, cereal and milk, noodle packets, canned soup with the little hexagon crackers to go with it, a couple bags of candy, and at the very end two bags of salad and a bottle of dressing. They had kind of forgotten that vegetables were something that humans should eat sometimes.

“Preparing for the ice age?” the cashier joked, scanning the fifth can of soup.

“Yeah. Never hurts to be prepared.”

“True that. Cash or card?”

“Cash.”

Villain passed them a hundred, watching as they tested it and counted out the change, practically hopping foot to foot.

It wasn’t…nice, knowing what Hero had likely done. They’d never liked him, of course not, but they’d never thought about him with such bitter hatred.

“Have a good day,” the cashier passed them the change, “Watch out for wooly mammoths.”

“I will, thank you.”

Villain was out the door in seconds, and had the groceries loaded up and was pulling out of the parking lot in less than three minutes.

They checked their phone, nothing.

Well, no news is good news, right?

It turns out, no news can be good news, but that’s not a guarantee.

They were almost done putting away the groceries when they heard a clatter in the repair room, followed by…crying?

“Assistant..? What’s going on?”

“He’s waking up, we probably need- Ugh, get in here, I need to put him under again.”

They hurried in, half dragging an empty grocery bag along with them.

Poor kid…

He was half awake, his face screwed up in pain and sobbing weakly as Assistant tried to keep him from struggling and upsetting the half done cast.

“Hold his arm down again, there’s so much more than I thought.”

“Okay, okay, here,” Villain steadied his arm as gently as they could, unable to tear their eyes away.

It was bad.

Every inch of his skin seemed to be bruised, cut, or scraped.

“I’m sorry! Please, I’m sorry!” he pleaded, his voice cracking and breaking as Assistant stuck the needle in his arm again, “Hero, please!”

Villain and Assistant’s eyes snapped together as slowly, Sidekick slumped unconscious again.

“You heard that too right?” Assistant’s normal careless exterior was gone, completely gone.

“I’m gonna kill that bastard.”

“Not yet.”

“Soon.”

They looked back at Sidekick.

Some of those injuries came from them. Some of this was their fault.

“I would have never laid a hand on him if I had know…”

“I know.” her heartless demeanor was back as she set back to work on the cast, “There’s nothing regret will do now. We just need to think clearly.”

“Can I help? I already got the groceries, and a room set up.”

“Start on his other leg. Gently go over the scrapes and shallow cuts with that,” she jerked her head towards a bottle perched on the edge of the table, “but leave the deeper ones and burns for me, I’ve got to look at them. If you’re not sure, ask me before you go over it.”

“Got it.”

Villain started at his ankle, and together they worked in silence.

It only took about twenty minutes for her to finish the cast, but they were still barely about his knee, and wondering how it was physically possible to be so scratched up.

Assistant pulled a small kit from her back, and began on some of the larger cuts, cleaning them meticulously before stitching any that had become reopened.

“He’ll need a lot of time to heal…”

“Yeah… poor kid.”

“If you don’t mind, I’m probably gonna crash here for tonight, because tomorrow he’s gonna probably need a serious check up.”

“You’re always welcome here, your rooms just the same as you left it. Empty water bottles and all.” Villain tried to be light, but the joke fell rather flat.

“What are you going to do?”

“About?”

“Him. He’s gonna need time, lots of it. At least a month for his leg, maybe longer depending on if anything else is severe. Are you gonna just, keep him here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you’d better start thinking about it cause Hero’s probably not gonna be pleased that you have his punching bag.”

“I am thinking about it. I just don’t know yet. At least for today, and tomorrow, he’s gonna stay here. I’ll keep thinking about it.”

“What other options do you have?”

“I don’t know yet. All I know is that if he’s here, he’s going to be scared shitless and that’s something to be aware of. Maybe he’s got family somewhere, somewhere he could go to actually get better. And if I kill Hero then no worries.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“I don’t know! I don’t have all the information I need yet to make a decision!” Villain snapped, then sighed, “Sorry. I just don’t know yet.”

“You just need to be aware of the possible consequences…”

“Like what? Hero coming after me?”

“Well, yeah, and possibly any of his friends too.”

“It’s not like he wasn’t already, and after seeing how he treats his ‘friends’, I dunno how worried I’d be.”

“Still. It’s good to be aware.”

“I’m aware,” they shift over, finally done with one of his legs, and they move up to his hand and wrist, “As far as I’m worried, we’re gonna get him fixed up, and once he’s awake, we’ll sit down, get him some food, and ask some questions. Apart from that, I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s good enough to start with.”

Starting a tag list for the Left Behind series:

@bleeding-letters

@jadeocean46910

#hero and villain #hero #villain #villain whump #villain caretaker #sidekick whumpee #sidekick #conditioned whumpee #hero whumper #rescue #left for dead #tw broken bones #rescued whumpee #enemy to caretaker #enemies to allies #tw needles #stitches

215 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Do Us Part

Warnings: nonconsent and rape; oral, fingering, marital discord, cheating, spousal arguments and mental/emotional abuse, age gap (Peter is 24/25 and reader is 35/36)

This is dark!Peter Parker x 30s/’older’ reader and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find it hard to accept that not all good things last as you face the changes in your marriage, yourself, and your marriage.

Note: I wanted to write Peter again but also I’ve seen this nonsense about how 30+ writers are too old for fanfic which is dumb af. And I wanted to turn the age gap trope a little so that it wasn’t the reader being the younger one in the relationship. I label it older reader but I don’t think being in your 30s is old tbh (my bf is 36 so pfft). It was all just a conglomeration of circumstances that inspired a deceivingly sweet dark Peter and I hope you like it. Also it’s 7.4k so a bit of a longer read.

Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You walked slowly along the transparent shelves set into the pristine white walls of the cosmetics section. The department store was a haze of distant voices and the chirp of scanners as customers milled the aisles and waited their turn to check out. You whiled away your time looking at things you’d never buy as you waited for your husband to return from the men’s department.

You thought of the sparse make-up bag under your sink and the liners and shades you hadn’t used in years. They were likely expired and better tossed in the bin. You hovered along the crystal bottle of designer scents and stopped to test a particular blush-tinted fragrance.

You set the bottle back and peered over at the dark cubbies that housed the men’s scent. Even from there, you could catch a whiff of the heady scents as a younger man with reddish brown hair examined an angular vial of Dior Men. You suddenly felt out of place; a mid-thirties woman in her out-of-season clothes fantasizing about overpriced perfume.

Your husband's voice further cemented your reality as you fingered the golden cap of the Coach eau du parfum. Wesley rolled his eyes and flipped up the little plastic panel that hid the bold prices and huffed.

“I hope you don’t think I’m gonna pay for that shit,” he sneered, “what have you been doing? I was waiting for you.”

He waved a plastic bag as his lip curled and you pressed your mouth shut tightly and swallowed. The day began with another argument as he discovered the seared hole in his shirt and instead of blaming the crappy old dryer, he blamed you. Most of your clothes had been chewed up by the thing but you never complained.

“No, I was just… looking,” you teetered in your flats and glanced around. The young man at the corner display quickly turned to hide his nosy observation, “did you find some new shirts?”

“No thanks to you,” he sniffed.

“Oh,” you played with the hem of your tee and tucked your hands into your pockets nervously. You’d left him to look alone as you only seemed to irritate him and rarely took your advice on matters of clothing, “well, I thought I’d give you some space--”

“Stop acting so pathetic. Start taking responsibility for yourself. For god’s sake, you're almost thirty-six and you don’t know how to hang a shirt to dry?” He spun on his heel and snapped over his shoulder, “let’s go.”

You flinched but followed behind him as he strode away and you stumbled out behind him through the automatic doors. He tossed the bag into the back seat and slammed the door before flopping angrily into the driver’s side. You mirrored him daintily and squeezed your legs together as you tried to make yourself as small as you could.

“I told you about the dryer,” you said.

“And?” he started the engine and slapped his hand around the wheel, “call a fucking electrician or some shit.”

“Alright,” you shrugged as he stopped at the exit of the parking lot and checked his phone quickly.

“Benny wants to do a round of golf,” he peeled out and you grasped the door as your heart raced. You hated how reckless he was when he was angry. You hated how easily he got angry these days.

“Okay,” you picked at the fraying stitching of your purse.

“Don’t start moping,” he sneered, “I fucking work all week and I can’t go out and have a few rounds?”

“I never-- I didn’t say anything,” you murmured.

“You don’t need to,” he turned the wheel sharply as he cut off another car, “you sit at home all day and do what?”

“I work too,” you said.

“Uh huh, sure, if that’s what you call it.”

You ran your fingertip over the bleach stain on the knee of your jeans and said nothing. When he was in a mood, he would latch on anything until he outright exploded. You tried to think of when he changed, when he had stopped being the chill guy you met back in college. It felt like a slow trickle, small things you ignored until it was a mountain you could not see past.

You felt like crying but you’d stopped that a while ago. You existed in a purgatory of acceptance and helplessness. You wanted him to love you again, wanted to believe you could fix things. So you would keep trying. You would do better.

💍

You picked out a large flank of steak and winced at the price. You had a special dinner in mind. It was Friday and the work week was done. You wanted a weekend without a fight and Wesley was always one for a nice big cut of beef. You hadn’t made him one in a while, your dinners were the usual repetitive drumsticks and rice or your homemade mac and cheese.

You continued onto the fish section and grabbed some salmon for yourself. You’d gained some weight and decided to cut out dairy and red meat if you could help it. The pile of produce in your cart reminded you of the extra jiggle around your stomach and thighs. You also grabbed one of those women’s magazines that advertised a regimen to help slim your figure. You only hoped you could stick to it this time.

With your weekly haul in tow, you wheeled up to the check-out and waited behind a young man who looked oddly familiar to you. Maybe that was the passing years. You always felt a vague glimmer of deja vu, more often a sense of forlorn nostalgia of what you would never have again.

As you stared thoughtlessly, he looked over and smiled. He bent in front of your cart and picked up a thin packet of seasoning.

“You dropped this,” he said as he held it out and you thanked him before quickly snatching it and looking away.

He paid for his large bags of chips and over salted pre-packaged meals and packed up at the end as you loaded up your own goods, the cashier sending them down the parallel belt. You swiped your card and tried to calculate the chunk of money from your last check. You thanked the clerk and sidled past the young man as he finished up.

You rounded the counter as he lifted his three bags. You looked up without thinking, the sleeve of his shirt tight around his bicep. You caught yourself staring and looked back down as you packed in the cans.

It reminded you of Wesley; he’d also started being more mindful, he hit the gym after work and you noticed the little pudge that started just after he turned thirty was slimming out. It was that exact reason that made you notice the extra pounds on your own frame, not that you didn’t realise before.

The man left and you unfolded the little buggy you slid under the cart. You loaded your bags into it and dragged the cart behind you as you made an awkward exit with both wheeled trolleys. The compact fabric buggy was easy enough to fit on the bus if you stood.

You pushed the cart into the row of empty ones and continued across the parking lot. You rolled up to the bus shelter and checked the bus times on your phone. You dug out your strip of tickets and ripped one away. You leaned on the thin handle of your trolley and looked over your shoulder as you heard someone approach.

The man who checked out ahead of you put his bags on the metal bench inside the shelter as he sipped on a bright drink from the place just beside the grocery shop. He sent you a smile over his straw and you spun back to crane your head and search for the bus.

When the metal beast barreled up and cranked to a stop at the curb, the man waited behind you and as your wheels caught on the edge of the ramp, he reached around you and helped push it over the lip. You thanked him shyly and continued up. Usually you tried to keep the shop light on weekdays but you hadn’t really been paying attention.

You pushed your cart against the small barrier just behind the accessible seating and stood beside it, conscious not to take up too much space. The man stood just behind you two bags on one shoulder and the other dangling from the opposite elbow as he sucked on his straw. You grabbed the upright bar as the bus took off and watched the electronic banner for your stop.

A sharp stop had you veering back and you were caught by the young man as he chucked, “oop, you okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” you muttered and gave a sheepish smile over your shoulder.

“There’s a seat,” he gestured just behind you, “I’ll watch your stuff.”

“Um, no it’s… fine,” you gripped the bar tighter as the bus shuttled forward, “my stop is soon.”

You looked ahead of you and three stops passed before yours. You exited through the front with your buggy and headed down the sidewalk as the bus pulled away. You were exhausted just from your little sojourn and it wasn’t even two o’clock. God, you felt old.

💍

You had a salad chopped and tossed and the steak and fish laid out and seasoned. As you listened to your old Spotify list, the music dipped and the notification blipped over the screen. You washed your hands and grabbed the phone. You frowned as you read the lone message from Wesley, the only one you got from him all day.

‘Just finished at the gym, getting drinks with Andrew,’ you read and re-read the message as your heart fell.

You typed out a whole angry response and backspaced it all. You replaced it with ‘ok, have fun’ and blacked the screen. You shoved the meat back in the fridge and stretched saran wrap over the bowl of salad. You placed it on a lower shelf and closed the door, quickly swiping a can of the craft beer Wesley kept around.

You shut the light off in the kitchen and ignored the pang in your stomach as you cracked the can. You climbed the stairs as you sipped the hoppy foam. You put it on the night table and changed into the old butterfly pajamas you wore most nights and turned on the tv mounted against the wall.

You turned on Netflix but hardly paid attention to the carelessly chosen movie. You sat against the headboard and down the bitter beer until the can was hollow and your eyelids were heavy. You slumped down so that your shoulders were at your ears and dozed off in the stiff position as the room moved with the colours of the television.

The anger and alcohol shaded your shallow sleep and you hardly heard Wesley when he came in, only waking when your bladder was ready to burst and his snores rumbled in your head. You went to the bathroom and returned, wide awake, and stared at the shape of him in the dark.

You remembered when he used to kiss you when he came home, even when you were asleep, he’d wake you with the little pecks. You remembered when he was happy to come home. You remembered when you were happy.

You swallowed the acrid aftertaste of beer and left him to snore. You went downstairs and curled up on the couch but didn’t sleep. You just stared at the shadows of the furniture until the sun rose.

💍

The next day, Wesley didn’t wake until after noon and when he did, he didn’t say a word to you. He took his coffee and sat at the patio table in the back as you stewed and cleaned the kitchen. You had nothing to say to him even if you felt stupid for being mad.

“Gotta head down to the dealership,” he said as he interrupted your scouring of the stove.

“The dealership?” you said after a moment, deciding whether or not to break your vow of silence.

“I told you on Wednesday, I’m picking up the car--”

“We talked about this. We should wait a little longer--”

“It’s my money and I got a great price,” he sighed, “just because you have to pinch your pennies--”

“We’re married,” you squeezed the foam sponge, “it’s our money. Don’t act like I don’t pay for anything around here.”

“Oh thanks, honey, so wonderful you paid for a five dollar steak,” he scoffed, “I’ll be impressed when you can make a mortgage payment on your own.”

“How dare you!” you turned your back to him and kept scrubbing, “fine, but not a penny of my money is going to that thing.”

“That’s fine, I’m selling the old one, that should cover most of it--”

“What?” you slammed your hand between the burner, “you said we would hold onto it so I had something to--”

“Then you can buy it from me,” he said venomously.

“I’m your wife,” you spun to scowl at him again, “I-- what is wrong with you?”

He tilted his head and squinted as he poked his tongue out along his lip. “Nothing wrong with me,” he shrugged, “what’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t--” you warned as you pointed a finger at him through the bright yellow gloves, “don’t do that… I’ve been trying and you just keep pushing me away.”

“Me pushing you away?” he rolled his eyes, “you were passed out last night when I got home. Maybe if you didn’t fall asleep before nine I could actually fuck you… or at least get it up if you worked on losing some of that cellulite on your ass.”

Your lip quivered and you sucked in a breath. You shook your head and turned around again. You ignored him as your hand shook and you continued your work, scratching at the dried-on food around the burner. His empty mug clinked onto the counter and you listened to his exit.

Fuck him and his new car. You were done trying with him.

💍

Wesley’s new car was shrouded in the shade of the garage as the old black Hyundai sat out on the driveway with a red and white “For Sale” sign on the windshield. Right after he got back from his extravagant purchase, he made the listing online and several perusers stopped by Saturday night but Sunday morning saw the car still there.

You sat by the border of stones around the garden as he drank beer in the garage and approached any interested buyers who appeared; although so far he’d only had two before noon.

You tucked your clippers into your apron pocket and dusted off your gloves as you stood. You were a little dizzy from sitting out in the sun and a glass of water was the perfect excuse to drown out the annoying sound of your husband’s voice.

You ignored Wesley as you trod through the garage and kicked your sneakers off on the mat right before the three steps up to the house. You went to the kitchen and put your gloves on the counter as you filled a glass from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. You’d given up everything but water and the slices of lemon were the only flavour you had.

You took the glass and your gloves and headed back. Wesley waited just at the bottom of the stairs as he glared up at you with arms crossed. You sighed and descended but he didn’t let you pass.

“What is your problem?”

“Are you really asking me that?” you hissed.

“You giving me the silent treatment isn’t gonna fix this,” he snarled.

“You know what you said so… I shouldn’t have to tell you to apologize,” you retorted and he stayed put.

“Is this about the car?”

“The car is just another thing,” you cross an arm around your stomach, “you think I couldn’t use it to get around, to get the groceries maybe? Or, I don’t know, maybe since you have such a problem with my home office, I could go out and get a ‘big girl’ job as you put it so many times--”

“Your mother has a car she never drives. You can just take her with you, two birds, one stone. I need to sell this to pay for the new one--”

“The one I begged you not to buy,” you huffed, “you could’ve waited a few more years until we were a little more comfortable--”

“Oh, wait? Until we have a kid and all my money goes to it,” he snapped, “yeah, I’m sure we’d have the money then--”

“You’d have to fuck to do that,” you stepped down the last step and pushed past him.

As you came into the sunlight and shielded your eyes, a figure stood by the garden, knelt just by your tulips as he felt the soft petals. You narrowed your eyes. You recognized him for sure. It was the stranger from the bus.

“Um, hi?” you croaked as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Hey, it’s… you again,” he chuckled softly as he stood, “I saw an ad for a car and… well, I’m getting tired of the bus.”

“Oh, uh, my husband,” you pointed over your shoulder, “you’ll have to talk to him.”

“Okay,” he smiled, “Peter,” he held out his hand and you stared at it. You introduced yourself and shook his firm grip.

“Like I said, it’s my husband selling the car,” you brushed by him and got to your knees by the flowerbed. “Unless you’re looking to buy some wilting pansies.”

“Hmm, I like the tulips better,” he said as he slowly inched away, “thanks.”

You sat back on your heels and he strode over to the open garage. You heard Wesley greet him and didn’t bother paying attention to the same pitch you’d heard all morning. You pulled on your gloves and wiggled your nose as it tingled. You really just wanted to keel over and bawl.

“Sold,” Wesley announced and you heard a clap, “all yours!”

“I’ll just transfer the deposit,” Peter said and a minute passed before he emerged again, the keys hanging from his finger, “Thanks, Wes.”

You hid your distaste. It used to be that Wesley hated being called ‘Wes’ but lately, he introduced himself to everyone as just ‘Wes’. He really had changed. You must have too.

“Hey,” you looked up and blinked as the sun made your eyes water as it shone around Peter.

“You bought it?” you asked as you yanked free a weed.

“Yep, but uh,” he glanced over his shoulder as the old car stereo Wesley used blared out a classic rock tune, “I… wasn’t eavesdropping but I heard some of it and… if you ever need a ride to the grocery store, I usually try for Wednesdays,” he tucked his hand in his pocket, “I don’t live too far and since we go to the same one--”

“No, no, you don’t have to do that,” you looked back to the soil, embarrassed.

“Well, if you change your mind,” he kept the keys dangling from one finger and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and slid out a card with some effort, “I’m supposed to have these handy but I never really use them.”

He offered the business card and you read his name above the title, ‘senior photographer’. You gave a half-hearted smile and put it in your apron pocket.

“Thanks,” you said, “I can manage.”

“You don’t have to though,” he said kindly, “but I’ll, uh, leave you to your gardening. Sorry if I bugged you.”

“You didn’t,” you assured without looking up, flattered that anyone cared enough to even offer help.

“Hey, Pete,” Wesley stopped Peter as he neared the car, “you can have one before you go.”

“Oh, no, I’m gonna be driving,” Peter argued.

“Pfft, it’s a celebration and one won’t put you over the limit,” Wesley insisted and handed him a dark bottle of craft brew, “come on.”

“I really should go--”

“It’s a Sunday, where do you need to be?” Wesley patted his shoulder and looked over at you, “hey, honey, you wanna see if we have any snacks for our guest?”

“I’m not hungry,” Peter said curtly, “really. Just the beer is fine.”

They disappeared back into the garage and you cringed. You hated that. Wesley only every acted like a husband when others were around.

💍

You waited a whole week before returning to the grocery store. You were short on everything and it was a reason to get out of the house. Your husband had made both your home and your workplace hostile.

It irked you that Wesley resented you working from home when a couple years ago he was so happy about it. Then, he’d been so enthusiastic about starting a family but when it didn’t happen right away, he grew disillusioned and bitter. Now, he seemed to have no interest in being a husband let alone a father.

As you packed up your spinach and bottles of Perrier, your cart rolled just a little as someone nudged it from the other end. You raised your head and hid your surprise and discomfort as Peter smiled back at you.

“I thought you said Wednesdays,” you murmured as you dropped a bag in your cart.

“I forgot eggs,” he held up the carton, “I guess I have good timing.”

“You do?” you asked as you pulled your cart forward and maneuvered around to push it out of the way of fellow shoppers. You bent to grab your trolley from beneath and he caught it as you unfolded it.

“I’ll drive you,” he said.

“I told you--”

“I’m here so why not? Save the ticket for next time,” he urged.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why does it matter? Why do I matter to you?” you asked.

“I don’t know, I… like helping people,” he shrugged, “what if I told you you were helping me? I have this horrible need to be the hero.”

“That will go away,” you muttered under your breath and he lifted a brow, “sorry, I… thank you.”

“Alright, let’s go then,” he collapsed the trolley and carried it easily under his arm as he cradled his eggs in the other, “I got the A/C fixed on the car too.”

“Mmm,” you hummed and walked with him out of the store.

You crossed the parking lot and helped you load up the bags in the trunk. That car should have been yours; you’d made enough payments on it yourself but Wesley was such a stubborn ass.

You sat in the front seat as he slid into the other and started the car. He drove cautiously through the lot and you read the store signs as he came to the exit.

“How long have you and… the old man been together?”

“Um,” you glanced over at him and chewed your lip, “since college so… almost fifteen years now.”

“Fifteen?” he turned out onto the street, “really? I thought he was older than you.”

“Christ,” you scoffed, “don’t flatter me.”

“Really, I woulda said twenty-eight at most,” he said coolly, “wow, I feel so young now.”

“And I feel so old,” you grumbled as you crossed your legs, hoping he didn’t notice the wrinkle in the pink capris.

“Whatever, you’re not even forty,” he said, “and time has treated you well so I can only think in a few years… oh jeez, sorry, that came off weirder than I intended. Not that I meant for it to be weird at all--”

You giggled at his rambling as he rolled to a stop at the sign and peeked over at you in the rearview. You caught his eye and quickly looked away, “what?”

“Just… you have a nice smile,” he said as he turned down a side street, “and a nice laugh.”

“Thank you,” your voice was brittle at the genuine compliment, “you’re funny.”

“Am I? I wasn’t trying to be,” he took the same short cut you took when you walked home from the convenience store which was closer than the plaza.

“And nice,” you said as he came onto your street, “you really didn’t have to drive me. You could’ve dropped me at the corner--”

“No way, I was raised better than that, and if you think I’m letting you carry that all in by yourself--”

“Raised to help little old ladies?” you mused.

“Raised to treat ladies properly,” he corrected, “especially pretty ones.”

“I’m married,” your heart pattered as you dared to flirt back, almost in disbelief that he was humouring you, “and your lies don’t work on me, young man.”

“Not that young,” he insisted as he pulled into the driveway.

You got out and went around to the trunk. He handed you the bag with the bread and other light products, and loaded up with the other bags.

“You get the doors, let me do the heavy work,” he said and nodded you towards the house.

You went ahead of him and unlocked the door. You let him inside and pointed him into the kitchen. He placed the bags on the counter and stretched his arms and hands as you set yours on the other side. The muscles of his arms moved under his skin and you could trace the lines of his torso through his grey tee.

“So,” he took out the bottle of Perrier, “this going in the fridge?”

“What-- you’ve done enough.”

“Fridge?” he ignored you and pulled out the other.

You gave a long blink and threw up your hands in surrender, “yes, please,” you came around and reached in to grab the whole grain buns, “bottom shelf.”

You finished unpacking your groceries and took the empty bags from Peter and shoved them under the counter. You stood and looked at him nervously as he watched you, his fingers tapping on the granite.

“Do you want a snack? Something to drink? Water?”

“I’ll have a water,” he said and moved to leaned his elbow on the countertop, his side snug to the edge.

“Sparkling or--”

“Regular’s fine,” he answered

“Ice? Lemon?” you pulled out a tall glass.

“Just ice is fine… then I’ll be out of your hair,” he said.

Ice clinked into the glass and you covered it with the distilled water from the fridge. You slid it onto the counter and stepped back.

“Oh, I… actually, it’s a good thing I ran into you,” he said and took a sip, “my aunt, she likes to garden too but she got some bulbs she’s not gonna use, I thought maybe… maybe you would like some to fill in the holes?”

“What kind?” you asked.

“Some daffodils and some crocuses, I think,” he said, “I could bring them over next week after work?”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” you scrunched your lips, “you could probably just give them to a neighbour.”

“It’s not out of the way,” he said, “you want them?”

You stared at him and thought. He was nice. Too nice.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing, I… I’m sure you have a girlfriend you could be spending time with--”

“I don’t. Not anymore,” he interrupted.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, “I didn’t--”

“Like I said, I always wanna be the good guy,” he finished his water and the last of the cubes settled at the bottom, “thanks.”

“No, thank you,” you said as he set his glass in the sink and backed away, “really, you made my day so much easier.”

“I hope your weekend is better,” he said, “but…”

He didn’t finished and you folded your hands together as he hesitated by the hallway.

“But what?” you prodded.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, “nothing. I should go.”

“Okay,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “see ya.”

“Monday,” he confirmed as he turned to the doorframe, “I’ll bring the bulbs. Just after seven.”

“Right,” you slanted your lips and watched him go.

The door marked his departure and you turned to exhale and lean against the counter. You could still smell his rich cologne. Then you felt guilty. It was stupid to think he was doing anything more than being nice, that the flirting was anything but a joke, but still, you missed feeling that way and it should’ve been Wesley making you feel that.

💍

You squeezed the phone as you clenched your jaw so tight it hurt. Your eyes were wet and finally the tears were ready to start falling. The smell of steak filled the kitchen, another meal you wouldn’t eat. At the last minute, Wesley texted to tell you he was hitting the gym. Again. He was already late after a long meeting but promised he’d be home to eat.

So you waited for him to answer your furious phone call but got his voicemail instead. Your eyes narrowed at the bottle of wine and your chest knotted as the tone sounded.

“Wesley, this is it. I can’t do this anymore! I’m your wife. Do you even want to be with me? I can’t go on like this and now you won’t even answer my calls,” you snarled. You knew he had his phone on him as he no doubt had his Spotify work-out list on shuffle, “when you come home, you can sleep on the couch.”

You hung up and grabbed a stemmed glass from the cupboard. You filled it to the brim with Pinot Grigio but before you could taste it, the doorbell made you jump. You set down the glass and walked up the hallway. Just on the other side of the frosted glass was a silhouette. You opened the door and touched your forehead as you faced Peter.

“I totally forgot you were coming,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry. But thank you, you really didn’t have to--”

“Are you okay?” he asked as the paper bag in his hand crinkled.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I… thank you for the flowers,” you looked at the brown paper bag and he handed it over, another bag on his wrist; white with ribbon handles, “what’s that? You headed out for a date?”

“Um, no,” he said, “actually, I was just…” he pushed his fingers through his hairs, the reddish brown locks slightly curled with sweat, “I wanted to talk to you.” He looked past you and his warm eyes returned to yours, “Wesley isn’t home yet?”

“No, he won’t be for a while,” you backed up, “so you might as well come in. I have a steak no one’s gonna eat.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t be,” Peter said glumly, “and steak sounds good.”

He closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen. You put the bulbs at the back of the counter and grabbed the bottle, “wine?”

“No thank you,” he said.

You plunked down the bottle and took a gulp of your wine before you turned to plate the steak and your chicken breast alongside the fried asparagus and roasted potatoes. You set the filet before him as he sat on the stool and climbed up across from him at the long island.

“Thank you,” he watched you slide a steak knife and fork towards him and his gaze lingered on your lips as you took another thirsty mouthful, “this is for you, actually.”

He pushed the white bag over to you and you smelled the subtle floral scent rising from it. You put your glass down and pushed open the top of the bag and peeked inside. You shook your head and rescinded your hand as if you were slapped. It was the same perfume from that day weeks ago.

“You… how?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked.

You thought back on the day you wanted to forget. He was the other shopper in the perfume section, the one who sent you that sympathetic look as Wesley reproached you. You winced and grabbed your utensils. You cut into the chicken and shoved it in your mouth. You swallowed loudly.

“Take it back,” you sniffed, “I don’t want it. I don’t deserve it.”

“You do. He doesn’t deserve you,” he carefully sliced into the medium rare steak.

“Is that what this is? Some perverted joke? A challenge?” you dropped your fork and knife, “you think you can seduce the sad housewife and then laugh at it? Sow your wild oats?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” he calmly put down the silverware, “I… what I didn’t say when I showed up is I just came from the gym.”

You frowned in confusion and wrinkled your nose. You took another drink of wine as you tried to understand.

“I saw Wesley,” he said as he leaned on his elbow and pulled out his phone with his other hand, “I didn’t wanna say anything but… you’re here beating yourself up over him and-- just look.”

He slid his phone across the counter and you looked at the screen. Your entire body felt heavy and your veins filled with ice. You dropped your head into your hands as you tried to wipe the sight from your eyes; the image of your husband groping a woman in yoga pants, an act she wasn’t deterring.

“I knew it,” you sobbed as the tears burst forth and leaked down your palms, “I knew it. And why wouldn’t he? I’m old, ugly--” you sniffed and pulled your hands away to wipe them on your pants. Peter held out a paper towel and you took it as you avoided his eyes, “thank you but I think you should go. I’m humiliated enough.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” he said as he climbed down from the stool and rounded the island, “he’s an asshole. He’s blind.”

“Please, Peter, just leave me alone,” you slid off the stool and he caught your shoulders. You looked up at him as you dabbed away the streaks of sadness with the paper towel, “Peter--”

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly, “he’s out there having his fun, so why don’t you have some of your own?”

“Peter, that’s-- that’s wrong. I’m too old for you. And… I’m fat and--”

“You’re perfect,” he reached up to frame your chin with his hand, “you’re gorgeous,” his other hand trailed down your arm and to your hip, “that’s the first thing I noticed about you…” he pulled you closer and tapped your ass lightly.

“No, I can’t-- I just want to be alone,” you pushed on his arms and felt the thick biceps as he flexed and kept you close.

“Well, baby, what I want,” he turned you so that you were pinned between him and the island, “is for you to put on that perfume… I want you wearing nothing but that.”

“Peter,” you pushed on his chest that time and the hard muscle wall didn’t budge, “Peter, go--”

“Baby,” he bent and scooped you up suddenly.

His hands spread over your ass as he lifted you and crushed his lips against yours. You murmured in surprise and he placed you on the granite countertop. He parted from your lips as you sat up and he shoved your legs apart, inserting himself between your knees. He played with the bottom of the dress you’d worn in hopes of rekindling your dying marriage.

“We can go slow,” he tickled along your thighs and pulled back suddenly, “just a little at a time.”

He leaned in as he reached around you and grabbed the small white bag. He pulled out the perfume and snaked his hand around your neck. He pulled you to bend over him and he kissed your neck just before he sprayed a puff of perfume across your throat. He stood back and took a deep breath. He put the bottle on the counter and his hands went back to your skirt.

“Peter,” you caught his hands as they crept under the fabric, “please.”

You tried to slide forward and he stopped you as he grasped your hips and held you in place. He bit his lip as his eyes glimmered up at you. He drew a hand away and took the glass of wine and held it before your mouth.

“Drink, relax,” he cooed, “forget about him.”

You stared at him and he brought your hand up with his and wrapped it around the full body of the glass. He nudged it to your lips and watched you until you drank from the crystal rim. He smirked and lifted your skirt as he bent to bury his head beneath the folds.

You gulped and choked on the wine as your skirt fluttered down over his shoulders. You felt his finger on the lace trim of your panties and winced. He squeezed your thighs with his other hand and nuzzled the crotch of your underwear. You tried to close your legs but he kept them apart easily.

He curled his fingers under the elastic of your panties and tugged. He pulled until you lifted your ass just enough for him to get them free and he guided them down your legs before quickly parting them again.

You set down the glass and almost overturned it, the last mouthful splashing up the side. You pressed your hands to the granite and peered down at the shape of his head beneath your skirt. You gasped as his cool tongue grazed your warm folds and delved deeper.

“Peter…” you wisped and closed your eyes as you tried to hide from your own shame.

He purred as his tongue flicked over your clit and you twitched. He caressed the crease of your thigh with his fingers as he lapped at your, his other hand pressed against your stomach until you fell back across the counter. You arched your back instinctively and his hand cupped your tit through your dress.

He blindly pulled until your chest slipped out and pushed the cup of your bra as he teased your clit with his tongue. He felt along your cunt with his fingers and shoved his index inside of you. You moaned as he pushed another inside and curled them as he suckled on your bud.

Your core burned to life. Your entire being was set alight after months without affection. You quivered in delight and fear. Your nerves stormed both out of guilt and hunger. It felt so good but you knew it was wrong. The scent of the perfume filled your nose as your skin grew hot.

He moved his hand in time with his mouth as he doted on you. His touch intensified as your legs bent around the side of the island and your fingernails dragged along the granite, your voice rising without thought. He pinched your nipple and you cried out as you came in a wave of sheer pleasure and grabbed his wrist as you tried to steady yourself.

He eased off slowly as you trembled in the afterglow, his lingering touch tickled along your legs as he pushed your dress up. He pulled you to sit up and lifted the fabric over your head and ripped your sleeves free from your arms. He tossed as side the garment and swiftly covered your mouth with his so you tasted your own arousal on his tongue.

He unhooked your bra blindly and slid it off your arms. You were intensely aware of your nakedness and as you brought your arms up to cover yourself, he forced them down and ran his hands over your bare torso.

“Beautiful,” he said as he laid a trail of gentle pecks along your throat and chest, pausing to take a nipple in his mouth as he rolled the other between his fingers and sent a shiver through you.

He kneaded your sides and hips, his fingers danced along your thighs and he followed the path with his mouth, kissing and nipping your flesh. He lifted his head again as he took your hands and twined his fingers through yours. He tugged you gently until you slid off the counter and landed on your feet shakily.

“Baby, you’re so amazing,” he placed your hands on his chest and pushed them down his muscled torso and brought them back up beneath his tee shirt, “go on.”

He let you go and you continued to roll up his tee. He dipped his head and raised his arms to help you and you clung to the tee as it fell limp in your grasp. Dazed, he snatched the shirt from your hands and flung it. He once more pressed your hands to his chest and guided you in feeling the lines of his toned flesh.

He pushed your hands against the top of his jeans and leaned into you. He kissed your temple and whispered along your hairline, “turn around, baby.” He squeezed your ass and purred, “mmmm, please, I wanna see that ass.”

You blinked, dazed, and spun slowly. You caught yourself on the edge of the counter as your legs trembled and you heard the subtle zip. He kicked his foot between yours and pushed your legs apart as he led you back so that you were slightly bent against the island. He ran his nails down your back and gripped your hip with one hand as his other drew away from your skin.

You flinched as you felt his smooth tip against your ass and he rubbed it between your cheeks. You inhaled and held in your breath as his hold on your tightened and he angled his dick under your ass and grazed your cunt. He poked your entrance and pressed his chest to your back as his hand covered yours on the granite.

He slid into you and your voice fizzled in the air as he forced the air from your lungs. You pushed your head back and it met his shoulder as his other hand crawled down your front. He spread your folds with his fingers and swirled another around your clit as he tilted his hips and thrust into you slowly.

“Ah, Peter,” you slapped the counter and he shushed you as his hand left yours cold and his fingers stretched over your throat.

His motion picked up as the noise of him crashing into you echoed around the kitchen. Your eyes rolled back as he rammed into you even harder. You were on tiptoes as he was driven by the weak moans that leaked from your lips and your wet pleasure squelched around him. He pressed two fingers to your bud and rubbed until you squeaked and your thighs quaked around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, “I bet you never cum like that for him.”

You whined and he sped up again. He pinned you against the counter so that the lip pressed into your stomach. He took his hand from your cunt and pushed your head down as he kept his other hand around your neck. He didn’t waver once as he fucked you.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he commanded, “I want you to cum again for me. I know you want to too.”

His thick breath warmed the air and grazed your back as he held you down and his hold on your neck tightened until silver stars rose in your vision. Your feet dangled against the tile and you reached down to play with your clit as it buzzed. It was only seconds before you were murmuring in ecstasy once more.

“Fuck, baby, can you feel that? The way your clinging to me,” he puffed as he slammed into you over and over, “he can hardly fill you, can he? Hmmm? Little man.”

You wheezed as he choked you and his other hand kept your head pinned. You heard a distant creak but could barely do more than keep your fingers moving as your heartbeat deafened you. You came again and croaked as your cunt squeezed him hungrily.

“What the fuck?” the voice broke your lusty trance and suddenly you were pulled away from the counter.

Your head lulled as Peter held it up and turned you around, his pelvis slapping against your ass as you faced your husband. Your mouth hung open as your blurred vision barely registered the scene and the deep grunts only got louder behind you.

“Look who’s here,” Peter rasped as he snaked his arm around you.

“The fuck are you doing?” Wesley sneered as your eyes closed and your ass rang with each thrust.

“What you can’t,” Peter snickered, “doesn’t she look so happy?” He grasped your chin and pushed his fingers into your mouth as he held your head up, “well, you into watching or you gonna let us finish, old man?”

#peter parker #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #fic #peter parker x reader #dark fic #one shot #dark!fic #do us part #marvel #mcu #spider-man #avengers

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one-more-offbeat-anthem · 3 years

Text

“Sorry, Jack,” Dean says, checking his phone for the umpteenth time this hour, “It’s really cancelled.”

“It’s okay. Not your fault.” Jack gives Dean a half-hearted hug and plods out of the kitchen, leaving Dean alone and unsure of what to do.

Ever since Cas mentioned that the cashier at the grocery store (because Cas is somehow friends with everyone) told him there was a drive-in movie theater in Smith Center, Jack’s been begging to go. Tonight there was supposed to be a showing of Finding Nemo, which Dean knew would make him cry but Jack wanted to see it (it’s funny raising a kid who loves both the Die Hard franchise and every Disney movie ever made). Eileen and Sam were going to come, too, make a night of it.

But now it’s been rained out, which means Jack’s disappointed, which means that Dean feels like, somehow, he’s gotta find a way to fix this.

Even if the weather is, like Jack said, not Dean’s fault.

Half an hour later, Dean’s still moping in the kitchen and contemplating rummaging through the fridge for a beer--he’s pretty sure there are a couple still in there, behind Sam’s kale that he keeps stealing (kale is actually not that bad, but Sam can never find out that Dean thinks that or he’ll never hear the end of it)--when he hears footsteps that he instantly recognizes as Cas’s.

“You seem more upset than Jack is,” Cas says, coming around the kitchen island to rest a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“He was so excited.” Dean leans into Cas’s touch, snakes an arm around his waist. “I don’t like disappointing him.” I’ve done it too much before. “I thought maybe we could just watch a movie in the Deancave but--”

“It wouldn’t be as special.” Cas smiles at him. “I have an idea.”

Cas banishes everyone from the garage, so Dean actually helps Sam with research for once instead of avoiding it to work on one of the cars. Cas lets Eileen in on whatever his plan is, though, and since he’s is far better at signing than Sam and Dean, they have no clue what’s going on.

After a dinner of eggplant parmesan (eggplants? Not so bad either, as it turns out, although eating them is always vaguely embarrassing since Claire visited and taught Cas what the eggplant emoji means), Eileen ushers them all into the garage, and Dean’s mouth nearly drops open.

Cas has commandeered the bunker’s projectors and one of their spare sets of sheets, setting both up against one of the walls with Sam’s laptop plugged into the projector, and there are blankets and pillows all over the floor.

“I also brought snacks,” Cas says. He then drops said snacks when Jack slams into him with a hug. “Eileen helped,” Cas adds, and Jack hugs her, too.

They settle down to watch the movie--for the first half, Jack sprawls out on his own blanket, getting popcorn everywhere (it occurs to Dean that he's going to end up sweeping the garage later, isn't he?), but halfway through Jack moseys on over to Dean and Cas’ blanket and shoves himself in between them, decidedly not fully cognizant of the fact that he’s also adult-sized.

Cas moves over anyways to make room, and then Jack steals some of Dean’s popcorn, but Dean can’t find it in himself to complain, not when the kid still looks happier than a damn clam.

Dean takes a glance over at Sam and Eileen, Sam’s arm wrapped around her and her head on his shoulder, and can’t help but smile. His family is here, and they’re happy and safe.

Rain, snow, or sunshine, this is all he needs.

#maypromptseries #offbeatwrites #prompt: drive-in theater #friendshapedcastiel #rambleoncas #kashmircastiel #usershey #SORRY THIS IS SO CHEESY #I JUST #YEAH #FAMBLY!!!!!!

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im-whatchamccallit · 3 years

Text

Fixed On//ATEEZ (OT8)

Pairing: ATeez (OT8) x Fem!Reader (Non-romantic)

Genre: Slight angst, psychological if you’re paranoid enough, majority fluff

Warnings: Mentions of stalking

Word count: 3.4k

You told yourself it was the lack of sleep from the three days you spent studying for your finals catching up to you, that the shadows you saw in your peripheral and the faint footsteps you heard behind you as you drowsily ran errands were simply hallucinations. You told yourself it was all in your head, but how could you believe that now that you were aware of him?

You had simply gone out to grab groceries, just a seven minute walk from your apartment that wouldn’t take any more energy from your already exhausted body, just craving a home cooked meal before crashing for the next two days. But you could practically hear his breathing as he circled around you in the produce section, feel his eyes staring at the back of your head while you selected a pack of beef and, now, you could see him clear as day as you trailed down the empty streets. You were tempted to stay in the grocery store to stall him, praying he got bored and left, but you made the mistake of going at 9:30 at night, the cashiers urging you to go as they closed at 10. Not a problem, you could just head home, right? But you couldn’t, the looming fear he’d find out where you lived making you whimper in distress. To add insult to injury, you left your cell phone at home because you didn’t think your trip would take so long and most stores were closed now, the street lights and your two bodies the only signs of life in the silent night.

You’d been walking for almost twenty minutes now, passing by your apartment reluctantly with aching feet and a spinning head, your eyes brimmed with tears as you tried to push on in case he caught up to you and hoping your $15 beef hadn’t gone bad by now. You need a miracle, something to ease your anxiety and get you home and away from the unidentified man. And, in the midst of your unfortunate predicament, you saw it: a 7-Eleven.

Your body picked up speed as you rushed inside, the place bright and lively despite only you and the cashier being present and the radio playing softly in the background, the tightness in your chest disappearing with each passing second. You gasped softly at the sound of the door’s chime, your head darting to see the hooded figure from before stepping inside and making an abrupt turn to the candy aisle. What now?

You tried to stay natural, moving to the fridge to pick out a soda that you didn’t want, glancing over to see the man adjacent to you mindlessly picking up bags of chips only to put them down once again, looking in your direction every so often to make sure you haven’t moved. And you did, floating about the store with no destination and him still on your tail, the teenager behind the register not caring as the both of you played a game of hide and seek that left your safety up to fate.

It seemed like you were hopeless but, for some reason, you were starting to get luckier as the night progressed, the door chiming and the boisterous chatter of men filling the fairly spacious convenience store.

“Get anything you want, we’re charging it to Hwa’s card.”

“Like hell you are! Pay for yourselves!”

Laughter followed the bickering of two of the guys echoed off the walls before they spread out, some going in pairs to different sections and some on their own, but the one standing alone in front of a rack of limited edition snacks just so happened to catch your gaze first. He was tall, wearing a coat that looked cute on him but made his upper body appear to be broad and muscular underneath, his face blank and firm as if he’s never smiled a day in his life. He was scary, and perfect.

Yunho’s lips were threatening to form a pout as he struggled to choose. Would he rather have a snack form Japan or Indonesia tonight? Both looked so good but he couldn’t bring himself to choose.

“I’ll get both.” He said under his breath before grabbing both bags, gasping loudly as a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Oppa, I thought you had work tonight!” You squealed in a faux happy voice, smiling brightly up at the wide and horrified gaze the man gave you.

“W-what?”

“Some guy’s been following me for a while now. Please, just pretend you know me.” You said in a hushed tone, smile faltering as you glanced over to the fridge you once occupied, the eyes you had feared all night staring directly at you, a soft whine leaving you as you peered back at the strange man you latched yourself to, praying he saved you in any way he could.

You gasped as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you until your head was flush against his chest, his once stoic face now adorned with a content smile.

“I texted you that I was free but you didn’t respond! I really wanted to see you tonight.” He said in a cute yet teasing tone, your head thrown back to see him smiling down at you, giving a subtle but clear wink to let you know he was on your side, your eyes stinging as you tried not to cry in the unknown male’s arms.

“How about we go grabs some snacks and head back to my apartment? I’ll pay.” He said with a gentle smile, your head nodding reluctantly.

You both made your way to the back of the store where his friends continued to joke and bicker, Yunho’s arm not leaving you for a second although his smile was gone now, eyes still puppy like yet hard.

Considering he was a fairly large guy, it was easy for the others to catch on to his presence but, upon turning to face their groupmate, they found themselves more focused on your meek appearance hiding safely under his arm. You could feel your face burning in both embarrassment and unease at the way they eyed you and the man.

“Who is this?” One asked, his hair a beautiful royal blue and eyes just as sweet as your large bodied savior’s, the way our eyes immediately diverted from his causing a few to laugh but the way you gasped in horror as your eyes locked with your almost hour long stalker, body trembling as you opted to look at the ground. You just wanted to go home.

“This is…. Princess! My girlfriend!” Yunho said, suddenly realizing neither of you knew each other’s names.

“If he’s holding you hostage, blink twice.” Another spoke, his eyes cat-like and face sculpted to reveal his dimples as he smiled playfully at you.

“Why’s it so hard to believe I can get a girlfriend? Bunny, go pick out something to eat. We’ll wait for you so we can pay.” Yunho said affectionately, giving a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder at the way your eyes widened in fear at him, his head nodding you onward as he silently told you he had a plan, eyes never leaving you as you cautiously moved to the glass casing filled with pastries.

“Seriously, Yunho, who is she?” Seonghwa asked, voice low as the other watched you closely. You were holding two plastic grocery bags filled with vegetables and meat, you were probably a university student based on your lazy but comfortable choice of clothing. Nothing about you seemed alarming, but your sudden introduction as Yunho’s girlfriend was enough to make them suspicious.

“Look at the guy in the hoodie. She said he followed her here.” He said in a hushed voice, the unknown man creepily moving close by you before closing in on a sealed pack of donuts but giving you a once-over now that he was close enough to get a better look at you.

You felt your jaw clench as to not cry out for help and set him off. He was only a few feet away from you now, able to grab and harm you just by extending his arm if you dared to alert anyone. That wasn’t a risk you wanted to take.

“Did he follow her car or something? Why would she stop here?” Wooyoung asked.

“Obviously she didn’t drive. She would’ve left her bags in her car if she did.” Yeosang responded, a few of their eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Wait, but the only grocery store nearby is almost ten minutes away.” Jongho chimed in.

“By car. If she walked, that would be almost 25 minutes.” Mingi concluded, their bodies running cold at the realization, taking in the severity of your situation.

You tried to seem casual, to make sure he was unaware of the sudden initiation of eight strangers planning to get you away from him as quickly as possible but, in the midst of your overthinking, you managed to wander off to the back of the store, eyes locked on the stands full of ramen in both impatient anxiousness and genuine wonder. There’s no doubt the beef you bought was no good at this point, and that constant walking you’d done really built up your appetite. You couldn’t let the boys pay for you, especially after offering their protection to keep you safe. But, you had your wallet on you, and you had to get in line with them anyways so they can pay for their snacks, so why not grab dinner for yourself while you were at it?

You mindlessly searched for the one you usually ate, even wondering if you should grab two in case you were hungry later while shifting to hold both bags of food in one hand, almost missing the set of eyes on you. Almost.

It felt like before when you were in the grocery store, body freezing as you listened closely but this time aware of the threating presence, only unaware of how close he was now. You slowly let your body rise, not wanting to let your guard down as you finally heard footsteps, the faint chatter of the boys snapping you from your daze as you tried to hurry back to them, yelping as you crashed into a warm body before you.

You held your breath, peering up cautiously before seeing a familiar and bright smile, his jaw slim but chiseled. He was the stranger’s friends, and he was cute. If you weren’t so worried about getting the hell back home safely, maybe you could’ve gotten a better look at each one to see if they were all this stunning.

“Uhm, P-Princess,” Seonghwa cringed at the pseudonym, not sure why Yunho couldn’t just ask for your actual name to begin with.

“We’re getting ready to pay. You got everything you need?”

You glanced at the bowl of instant ramen before nodding, Seonghwa eagerly taking it from your hands to leave it unoccupied, but that didn’t last long as he grasped it to guide you beside him, your sides practically touching. It was a bit confusing, it made you worried that your act would be found out by the mysterious guy following you. But Seonghwa was no idiot, his observation skills heightened since he was brought into your escape plan, trying hard to not send a glare to the creep standing in the place you were moments ago. If he hadn’t noticed him moving closer, who knows what would’ve happened to you.

“Hey, ready?” Yunho asked you softly, your head nodding once more as they began to hand their items to the still disinterested boy behind the register, your eyes examining their mannerisms.

You were a little wary about blindly asking for their help but, from the way they immediately took on the task to protect you by staying at your side, and even now as the short but equally as model-like blue-haired guy complained that he thought they were using ‘Seonghwa’s’ card, only to be met with teasing ‘Thank you, mom’ chants from the remainder which left him looking a bit disgruntled, you knew they were nothing to fear.

You moved forward as they trailed on to the side, setting down your ramen as Yunho kept his place next to you, moving to pull out his wallet but you immediately snatched your hand from Seonghwa’s wanting to give a quick apology but needing to pay before he had the chance to.

“Don’t worry, I can-“

‘It’s only a dollar, Princess, it’s fine.” Yunho said while handing cash to the man, a faint warmth creeping to your cheeks at how casually he used that newly established nickname.

You thanked the man as you grabbed onto yet another bag for the night, all of you eagerly leaving the store and into the parking lot, the suffocating atmosphere now dissipating into relief as you took in a breath of fresh air. That man didn’t follow you out, the ambience felt so light and fun with the group of men joking ahead of you as they walked to a van with a very bold ‘ATEEZ’ on the side, your jaw nearly hitting the ground.

You’ve heard of their group, their music everywhere yet never had the time or desire to actually look them up, which would explain why you didn’t recognize them immediately. Although, the cat-eyed one went viral not too long ago for his charismatic dancing and now, watching him and a tanned guy with a mole beneath his eye he pointed and referred to as ‘Woo’ laugh at something said by the blue haired man while the tall one, one that resembled a prince and fairy all in one, and one that looked scary until he showed a smile so sweet it managed to make him look more youthful, you realized they were all hot. And suddenly the intimidation you thought you were free from came rushing back to you.

“Hey,” The sudden voice pulled you from your thoughts, a yelp leaving you as you faced the first one you met, his smile falling a bit but recovering just as fast.

“Didn’t mean to scare you. Just need to know your address so we can take you home.” He held up his cellphone and a navigation system, your eyes wide as you looked between him and the bright phone screen. They could’ve honestly left you there once that man stopped pursuing you, yet they were still looking after you.

“Or I could call you a cab. We know you probably don’t want to be around a ton of strangers right now.”

“N-no! Thank you, so much, I’m just really thankful I found you guys.”

“Hey, it only cost us a dollar to help you, and I don’t think any of us would feel right just leaving you to protect yourself from that guy.” Yunho said gently.

His tone and eyes were telling you he was being sincere, not that you needed any more convincing to trust him or his friends. Not to mention he was right about you needing a ride home, reality kicking in that you still didn’t have your phone on you and, if your groceries weren’t completely wasted by now, you still had some time to save them.

With a small smile you took his phone from his hands, typing in your address and passing it back to him, your body turning to match his as you head towards the van, the faint sounds of the boys arguing over who would drive and all agreeing that none of them wanted to, leading to an intense game of rock-paper-scissors that Yunho gladly stayed out of, a small giggle threatening to erupt from your lips.

“By the way, you guys don’t feel like strangers. Especially with your group’s name plastered on the side of your car.” You joked, a simple ‘Ah’ leaving him as you stared at you with a smirk, almost a silent way to say he’s discovered your dirty secret.

“You know, at first I thought you were a fan or something and that’s why you came up to me. I didn’t think I’d be right.”

“Uh, actually, I don’t know anything about you guys. I didn’t know you were ‘ATEEZ’ until I saw, well, that.” You gestured back to the vehicle where the boys began to disperse and enter the car, but the loud and bitter comments of them not wanting ‘Mingi’ to drive filling the air followed by an authoritative ‘Do you wanna do it?!’ from the blue-head. Were they aware of how unintentionally funny they were?

“Well, in that case, I’m Yunho.” He smiled, a genuine one that made you breathe out in contentment.

“I’m (Y/n).”

Your introduction was brief, followed by a silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, lingering in the air as you both made it to the van, easing your way inside and finding a seat next to the blue-head and prince-faced boy, giving a small nod and smile that he shyly returned, the three boys behind you too preoccupied in their phones to acknowledge you and, suddenly, the silence gone as Yunho spoke up from his awkward position of setting up his phone to the dashboard, the faint voice of the navigation arising in the background.

“You should introduce yourselves to (Y/n)!”

“Her name’s (Y/n)?” The one in the driver’s seat asked as he started the engine, peering to you from the rear view mirror with bright eyes before putting the car into drive.

“My name is Mingi.”

“I’m Seonghwa.” The guy from the passenger seat said to you as he turned to wave.

“I’m Choi San.” Cat eyes said from behind you, giving a dimpled smile that you easily returned.

“I am Jongho, and this is Wooyoung.”

“Hey! I can introduce myself!” You jumped slightly at the boom of ‘Wooyoung’s’ voice, giving a bewildered look at how fast he went back to his calm and charismatic self.

“I’m Wooyoung.” He reached his hand out to you, which you slowly took as you tried to calm down the giggles bubbling inside of you.

“Yeosang.” The one beside you said meekly, not giving you eye contact as he scrolled through his social media.

“And my name’s Hongjoong!” The blue-haired guy said, giving an enthusiastic wave that was slowly swallowed by the oversized sweater he wore, your breath caught in your throat from how cute he was.

“It’s nice to meet you all and, thank you, so much, for helping me tonight.”

“It’s no problem, we just wanted to make sure you stayed safe.” Mingi stated. You would’ve thought his deep voice would be drowned out by the van’s engine but you heard him perfectly.

“But what made you think we weren’t the creeps? You’re probably in a car full of murders and you don’t even know it-“

“Shut the hell up, Wooyoung, you’re scaring her!” Seonghwa yelled from the front, a hand landing on top of your head to give a small ruffle, your eyes following it to Hongjoong who peered past Yeosang’s head to see you.

“Don’t worry, we’re all good guys.”

“He’s lying! He yells at us all the time!” Jongho whined with a pout, slowly letting it grow into a smirk as Hongjoong glared at him playfully.

“Because none of you listen!” Hongjoong snapped back, an amused laugh from San echoing through the vehicle.

“Oh no, dad’s mad.”

“I’m stuck with ungrateful kids, of course I’m mad!” You couldn’t help but laugh, their bickering growing by the second as the car ride progressed.

It was funny how quickly they forgot there was a stranger riding with them, having conversations that you couldn’t understand about an idol life that you had no part in, Yunho attempting to remind them of your presence to make you feel included, eventually leading you to discuss university life that they couldn’t quite understand and, as mundane as it seemed, was still a bit entertaining.

You could see the familiar street light with a poster for part-time employment at the nearby seafood shop taped to it, signaling you were approaching your apartment a lot sooner than you expected and, as relieved as you were to finally be home and to relax from the horrifying encounter you had, you didn’t want to leave.

These boys, as loud and strange as they were, were peaceful to be around and a comfort you didn’t know you needed. You weren’t really aware of ATEEZ, who they were or the music the produced, but you knew they were good people, and maybe this night was enough to keep your mind fixed on them.

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3desiderium3 · 3 years

Text

For your love

chapter six - Spring day

[ series masterlist ]

previous chapter | next chapter

pairings : reader x damiano david

story summary : damiano and reader are in very loving relationship that sometimes almost too quickly becomes too toxic for anyone likings

chapter warning (s) : this is sad af i made myself sad once again , some strong language and violent behavior , mentions of alcoholism , suicide and depression

They say healing takes time .

For Y/N time felt cruel . It was cold and slow .

It felt like winter . Y/N hated winter . That cold cruel and monstrous time of the year always left deep cuts on her brain and her soul . Every year for her was separated in 2 parts .

One was surviving the winter and having to deal mentally with all the problems and abnormally painful experiences . Constantly drowning .

The other part was trying to swim out of that freezing lake of trauma before she suffocated .

She hated the winter cause that was the time Damiano and her met .

She was never going to erase that day from her head and she was never going to forget each individual pain she felt in that period .

The pain he caused .

She always felt so melancholic and dizzy in that time of the year . Lost . Alone . Fragile .

One and half month has passed since she left Damiano and that month felt exactly like winter.

' I miss you

Saying this only makes me miss all you more

Even though I'm looking at your photo

Time's so cruel , I hate us

It's all winter here , Even in August '

She didn't hear a word from him . From almost no one actually . She disconnected from the real world fully . Only keeping the contact with Thomas , her parents and Vic of course .

Ethan had a hard time figuring out on his own what was happening . But he remained silent .

He didn't wanted to pick up the bleeding wound .

Y/N spent that month in her room . Crying . Trying not to focus on the sharp pains in her chest each night as she would listen over and over again Damiano's voice messages and Måneskins songs . She restored all the deleted pictures . She stopped eating and drinking water . She was just smoking in her bed and sleeping next to an overfill ashtray . Her hair always greasy and tied up . Her eyelashes always soaked up in tears . She avoided human touch the best she could .

Thomas was trying so hard to get her out of that depressive state along with Victoria .

They failed each time . And every other .

So they stopped forcing what the couldn't get .

Måneskin wasn't having rehearsals yet . Well I mean they did sometimes . But without Damiano .. Not because they weren't in touch but because every time they schedule one he cancels it .

He never showed actually up . Always having some lame excuses behind him .

Y/N was constantly playing their shared memories in her head like a dusty retro movie .

It was all she was thinking about . Nothing else . Everything was black and non existing beside him .

Just him .

How is he ? Did he ate today ? Is he sleeping well ? Is he having fun without her ? Is he with someone else ?

She often found herself lost in thoughts filled with suspicion , such as was he ever cheating on her etc etc .

The more time she spent with Victoria the more she became obsessed with an idea that Damiano and her used to have thing .

Some of Damiano's stuff appearing in her apartment such as jewelry and clothes .

An idea of going through Victoria's messages with him was also on her mind all day .

Y/N was always one click away from sending him that ' Hey I miss you , how you've been ? ' message . But always deleting it and putting her phone away .

When she was not thinking of him she was dreaming him . She was dreaming of his apologizes . All the things she wanted him to say to her he only spoke in a dream .

' I miss you

How long do I have to wait

How many nights do I have to pass

To see you ? '

Every day passed so slow because every day was the same .

She would woke up , trying to memorize and analyze all the dreams she had about Damiano , cry because she misses him and his sweet praises , maybe eat something , go back to bed and cry , smoke and drink , vomit if she feels like it , shake from all that stress until her stomach aches , cry and sleep for the rest of the day and at the end she goes back to sleep while thinking of him and later on dreaming of him .

Very often she questioned if this was the best option . Was it a good thing that she just went ? Was it a good thing that she broke up ? Maybe she should've given him second chance .. Maybe she should've at least tell him she planned on leaving , or leave a not whatever .

But he gave up so easily ..

He gave up ...

He never bothered finding her or searching for her ..

' I try to exhale you

Like white smoke

I say that I'll erase you

But I can't let you go yet . '

Y/N felt confused and like her tongue was cut off . She craved for some answers and explanations feeling like she was left unfinished with her words .

Would her even consider responding to her call ?

It was easy for her to explain how she felt but it was hard to understand .

She felt like she had her lungs overfilled with air , like someone kept pouring hot gelatin water on her head , like her bones where heavy , she was exhausted , paranoid , lonely , scared ...

But healing takes time ..

Already two full months passed . Y/N felt like the winter inside of her slowly started to turn into spring .

She gathered some hope for her , she felt like she was able to bloom and breath again .

The final day came . The day she left the house . Well the day she left her room . She washed her hair , she dressed nicely and cleaned up her disgusting room .

Victoria was proud . She almost shaded tears of joy . Her friend started the healing process and she was there by her side .

Y/N went in town to buy some simple groceries .

The day was hot and sunny , people had smiles on their faces . She hasn't landed a thought on Damiano for the past 2 or more days .

She was almost done with shopping when she entered one larger store to buy one single thing she couldn't find anywhere .

And oh boy ... She had what to see ...

She saw him . For the first time she saw him . How didn't she manage to spot his car outside ? Why today ? ?

She felt overwhelmed . Lump in her throat as her clothes became tight on her . She tried pretending she didn't saw him .

But she did . And she memorized every detail from his head to toe .

He looked flawless . No sight of fatigue on his face , no sight of suffer or regret . No nothing . He looked fine . Like he hadn't spent a night without sleep or day without shower . He looked fresh , rested and glamorous .

It awoke rage in Y/N . She was so sure he was feeling at least a bit of the pain she felt . But she saw that he was wrong .

That one fucking ingredient she needed was in a row in front of him , there was no way that he didn't saw her ..

She kept walking , gaze straight ahead pretending she didn't spotted him . But with the edge of her eye she saw him looking at her and making his direction towards her .

Y/N panicked . She practically ran towards the cashier and out of the store felling like all the air she felt overfilling her lungs disappeared .

" Do you need a drive ? " That voice . That velvety sweet voice sent chills to her spine , she was mad . So god damn mad that he was fine doing just fine . Who knows ? Maybe he even moved one with someone else by his side .

' Is it you who changed?

Or is it me?

I hate even this moment that is passing by

I guess we are changed

Just like everyone you know '

" I gotta go to another store it is really close . " Y/N tried lying . " Oh no problem I can drop you off . " He sounded so normal and casual .

Like they where fucking acquaintances not ex lovers .

At this point she didn't felt like resisting . So she just simply went in his car praying that there indeed was some store near .

" How've you've been Y/N ? " " Good. " There was a certain moment of silence . " And you ? " "Just the casual you know . I went to see Ethan this morning and I stopped by to buy bear there is a game tonight . "

" It's here . Thanks for the drop out . "

Y/N said and almost ran out of the car slamming it hardly behind her.

She entered that store and pretended to search for something until she saw him leaving behind the block .

She sighed , tears running gently down her cheeks . She felt so ashamed and so betrayed . How dumb was she actually ? Thinking that he cared for her . ' If he wanted to call he would do it . If he wanted to see how I was he would do it . '

Somehow she dragged herself back to Victoria's . She didn't shared a word with her as she was making her way back to her bed .

Back to that cold room . The room that smelled like winter .

* meanwhile damiano's p.o.v *

Damiano was not doing well . He was sleeping in his stuff that still barely had any of Y/N's fragrance left . In 2 months since their break up nothing good happened to him . He moved back in in his and Y/N's house . Keeping it clean and in peace . He pretended as if they never broke up . He started talking to himself pretending like Y/N was listening . He had no one to yell at .

He slept on her side of the bed , ate on the same spot at the table she used to sit . Read her books on her chair in living room . Sleep in her t-shirts , walk around the house in socks and her hoodies . He cried every damn night . It was eating him alive .

How he let her slip through his fingers . How he made her run away .

When he wasn't sad he was mad . He was cursing her he was yelling and shouting in an empty room . Because he was simply broken and sad . Disappointed and unsatisfied . Mad at himself .

At first he was so determined to find her . There was not a person he asked where she lived , with who she was staying , did she changed her number . He searched for her everywhere . The other band members didn't wanted to tell him however . They knew but they pretended like they had no idea even if they where in touch with her every day . He was slowly losing hope for her .

Even in those toughest moments he tried not to come out as too soft or caring . He never dared to let anyone know how he truly felt . He always pretended like he was doing okay and like he was fine like he didn't care . He put extra effort in his personal looks so it appeared like he was glowing .

But it was eating him out alive every night .

Where is she , how is she , is she alive , is someone taking care of her and her needs ?

' Yeah, I hate you

You left me

But I never stopped thinking about you

Not even a day

Honestly, I miss you

But now I’ll erase you

Because it hurts less than to blame you '

He prayed he could just see her one more time .

And his prayers have been granted . He saw her . He finally did .

She seemed tinier than he remembered , dark circles under her eyes and her posture bended . He offered to give her ride just so he could see where she lives . He wanted to know if she was safe .

After she rejected him coldly he turned around the corner and waited in his car until she was back in his sight walking towards the very familiar path .

He was trying his best to remember how he knew this path .

And once he saw her entering Victoria's house he bit his tongue . He was gripping the wheel with such force his knuckles went white .

' So she was the one hiding you from me . '

Then it clicked inside of his brain .

Thomas knew , Victoria knew and Ethan knew .

They all knew where she was . And no one wanted to help him reach her . They made a fool our of him that day , letting him go in their house while knowing she wouldn't be there .. They made a fool out of him every day when they told him that they had no clue where she was .

He sat there and smoked at least 3 cigarettes before driving off to Thomas's place .

He was going to make a scene .

Måneskin gathered at Thomas's house for the game night .

Damiano silently went in . Prepared for the cold war . Three of them sat on a couch in living room across the huge TV , laughing . " Ay man did you bought the bear ? " Thomas asked still smiling .

Damiano huffed . He was so annoyed , he walked closer to Thomas almost towering him .

" I will fucking kill you . " Those words where followed by Damiano slapping his friend and Victoria letting out loud scream . Ethan gasped and tried separating them .

These two where on the floor wrestling with each others hands around their necks .

" Daminao stop what is wrong with you for fucks sake ! " Victoria yelled . Once they separated , she was rubbing Thomas's back , the golden boy was all red in his face and his eyes teary .

" YOU FUCKING KNEW ! ! ! ALL OF YOU FUCKING KNEW ! " The other members watched their friend in shock as he was exploding from rage . This type of behavior he didn't surfaced in months .

" ALL OF YOU ! FUCKING KNEW ! WHERE SHE WAS , HOW SHE'S BEEN AND YOU HELPED HER GET AWAY FROM ME ! ! ! "

Not only Damiano was shouting but he was also crying .

He was crying and sobbing with his lips visibly shaking , his hands in his hair . This was the first time he cried in front of them in 2 months .

" I WAS THE WORST ! I STILL AM ! SHE DESERVED BETTER ! BUT NONE OF YOU WANTED TO TELL ME IF SHE IS EVEN ALIVE ! "

" Dami - " " SHUT UP ! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS IS ! "

He was breathing very hard now . Not only his lips but his whole body was shaking now . " I need her .. I need Y/N ... I will rather die than not be in her arms again .. I - I want her back .. "

The only sound in the room was the background TV sound . Thomas , Victoria and Ethan watching Damiano cry in front of them and scream his pain out . They felt guilty .

" I need to call her .. "

A/N i used BTS song spring day in few references . Hope you like it and leave a heart on if you do <33

taglist : @ella-nordstrm3 , @urskaa , @lovelysaltyland , @littleachaos , @whoreforhenrycavill , @13journals , @onceuponparrilla , @21nell , @davedace101 , @vainbimbo , @aliyeaz , @vandafabryova , @miriampraez , @foggyhottubcandy , @daringovangel , @inr89 , @fanfictioncafe , @mrsllshhb , @ over-themoon , @theclavvofaraven , @annika0-o , @thxtsclxssified , @goddessofthem0on , @ellabeth , @vandafabryova , @olivera-gajic

#damiano david #ethan torchio #eurovision italy #fanfic #relationship #thomas raggi #damiano maneskin #eurosong #eurovision #maneskin #victoria de an #victoria de angelis #love #breakup

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mcwritingblog · 2 years

Text

Immortal pt. 4

Dinner is On Me

Pairing: Javier Pena x reader

Summary: Javi comes over to reader’s apartment for dinner when things get spicy.

Rating: R (Talk of sexual situations)

Tags: Praise kink, p in v sex, oral sex (female receiving), a little possessive if you squint

Author’s note: Hope you enjoy! Had too much fun writing this chapter

Word count: 2K

Two o’clock hits. Thank god. That was the longest shift ever, you think to yourself. Javi won’t be off for four more hours. You offered to make dinner for him tonight. It’s good for him to meet the other important being in your life, your cat. Avery’s acting like you won’t ever come back to her every time you walk out of the door.

You needed to grab some groceries before heading home, walking your bike down the block. So you turn left, rolling your bike into the bike rack outside of the grocery store.

“Hi, Dolares!” you call out, waving your hand to the cashier and grab a basket.

“Hi, darling! How’s the cat?” she responds.

“She’s good, thank you!” you call out behind you. Hmm, what’s for dinner? You think. Chicken Marsala sounds good. You throw the ingredients into the basket and head to the spirit aisle: white wine and Chicken Marsala.

“All right, I think we’re done,” you say to yourself, heading to the cash registers.

“Hi, Y/N,” a young man smiles at you and starts ringing up your items. His skin is a warm brown, and his eyes were so golden they could be sun rays. He was considerably tall for a 20-year-old.

“Hi, Daniel. Did you just get on? I didn’t see you when I came in.”

“Had to help Mrs. Hernandez find the banana peppers again.” He rolls his eyes. “The total will be $20.45 ”, he said, chuckling to himself.

“Right,” you snort.

“You have a cute laugh.”, he replies, rubbing the back of his neck, “Uh, hey Y/N? Would you like to go out sometime?”

Oop. There it Is.

“Daniel, I’m flattered… but unfortunately, I’m taken”. Were you? You and Javi never made it official. Maybe tonight will solidify that.

“No worries. Lucky guy, whoever he is. Here are your items”, he says with a tinge of hurt. “Have a good day.” He genuinely smiles.

You throw the bags of groceries in the basket at the front of your bike and ride home.

Avery meets you with the most brutal cry you’ve heard.

“You know, soon the neighbors are going to think I’m torturing you in here.”, you say, throwing the groceries in the fridge.

It was 3:45; you had time to kill before Javi came over. So you strip off your coffee-stained shirt and take a long shower. Soon you were wondering if you should shave and deep condition. You mean, if it happens, it happens.

So to kill time, you get out of the shower and give your hair a good blowdry. Then, you put on your favorite outfit and perfume. It’s now 4:45; goodness! Can time go any slower?.

You give Avery the one-on-one attention she so desperately craves. You pull her onto your lap on the couch and pet her, letting your mind wander. “Ooooh,” you stare at her with open eyes, “Do you want a snack, baby?!” she practically POUNCED off your lap and into the kitchen. You reach into the cabinet and pull out her cat treats. While you were here, mine as well start dinner.

You check the time; it’s 5:30. At least, it’ll be ready by the time he gets here.

At soon as it hits 6 o’clock, you get a phone call.

“Hey, baby. I just got out. I’m going home, real quick to wash up, and ill be over”, Javi says to you.

“Can’t wait,” You reply happily, setting down the phone on its holder.

There’s a knock at your door. You take your last looks in the mirror, rubbing your teeth and taking off your apron. You open the door, revealing Javi with a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“You look amazing.” he looks you up and down and chuckles.

“Oh, this? I just threw this on.”

“Uh-huh,” he gives you the bouquet, and you smell them. They smell lovely.

“Do come in. Make yourself at home”, you gesture to the house. You both walk towards the kitchen, and he hangs his jacket up on the back of his chair.

“Nice place. Oh hi, beautiful”, he says when Avery rubs against his leg.

“Don't feed her ego.”, you laugh.

“So this is the infamous Avery.” he picks her up, “Hi, sweetheart,” he scratches under her neck. I guess he just has an effect because, before long, she’s purring loudly.

“Food’s almost ready,” you inform him.

“Alright, I have to put you down and tend to my favorite girl.” he dips down to land her on the floor.

He comes up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist, “It smells great,” he dips his head down to start kissing your neck.

“Better stop that if you want dinner.”, you warn.

“And if I want you instead?” he continues, to then leave a peck on your cheek. “I'm kidding; I am starving.”

Dinner goes great. He talks about how work has been lately, and you fill him in on your newest neighborhood gossip.

“He should know better than to mess with my girl.”, he jokes. You both can just feel the sexual tension in the room. You get up to grab your plates.

“Here, let me help you with the dishes,” he offers.

“You know what?” you sigh, “fuck these dishes,” you put the plates down on the table.

You grab his face and kiss him. He snakes his hand up to grasp your jaw and deepen the kiss. You take it as the opportunity to sit on his lap. The bulge in his pants becomes extremely apparent against your core. His hands grab your ass and your hands in his hair.

And like that, he’s set off like a bomb. He stands up, lifting you with him, not breaking the contact between your lips. He lays you gently down on the table, pulling up the hem of your sweater. He kisses up your stomach. It comes up to now exposed, lacy bra.

“Sneaky, sneaky,” he shakes his head, laughing to himself. Then, he dives his head back down, kissing on top of your breasts. Next, he loops his fingers to pull down the straps of your bra and then exposes you to the air of your apartment. Your nipples harden, and he takes a left one into his mouth, entertaining the right one with his hand.

You gasp out in quiet pleasure to his warm mouth; you feel the heat between your legs and sit up to reach for him. You wanted him now. He pushes you back down. “Not just yet, Princesa. I want to taste you.”

OH.

He unbuckles your belt and unzips your pants.

“You know you teased me pretty bad yesterday. I couldn’t get those pretty little moans out of my head all day. I wanted to hear those in person.” he slips your pants down with your underwear. And just for a moment, he lets his warm breath pass over your core. You let a whimper out; you just want him, his mouth, or anything else.

“Please,” you let out.

He moves your panties out of the way and lightly licks your dripping wet core. And then he dives in, dragging his tongue from bottom to top. Finally, he starts to eat you out like he hasn’t eaten in a week. A guttural moan comes ripping out of you. A small laugh comes rumbling out of his chest.

“That's better,” he replies cockily, going back in.

He’s hitting your clit just right, adding one finger and two. It's mind-bending how perfect hits fingers hit. Before long, you’re right on edge.

“I'm gonn-” you gasp.

“Cum for me, baby, I wanna hear you cum”

Those worse took root in your mind, and you just shattered into a million pieces, letting out an almost high wheeze.

“My pretty girl. You did so good for me”, he said softly, tracing the silhouette of your body.

You stay quiet for a minute before coming back from spacing out. He picks you up and lays himself on your couch with you on top of him. For a moment, you lay there, enjoying the warmth of his body.

“You’re wearing too much,” you mumble into his neck.

He smiles, “we can change that, here sit up,” you oblige, and he sits up enough for you to pull off his shirt. You take a moment to stand up and take off his pants and underwear. You strip off what is left of your clothes, making sure to go extra slow, showing off your curves. Javi bites his lip, “will you just get your fine ass over here and let me fuck you.”. You hitch your leg over, hovering over his well-defined cock. You slowly take him, inch by inch, until you're filled to the base.

“You're so beautiful taking my cock like that,” he says, half-lidded, letting out a breathy moan.

You take a minute just to adjust, kissing his neck, leaving your little marks down his jaw to his collarbone. Then, you get kind of cocky and bite and lick his earlobe. A groan comes ripping out of his throat. Within the minute has, you flipped and bent over the couch arm. He starts pounding the absolute shit out of you, making your brain go blank again. Soon, you're babbling small phrases like “so good, so good.” He makes you come twice before pulling your body flush to his grasping you by the throat and rubbing your clit in tiny circles, thrusting slowly into you.

“You're so fucking hot. You like being fucked dumb?” he whispers in your ear. “Pretty girl. So pretty on my cock. Taking it so well”.

He is coming close, you can feel it.

“Ah fuck, going to cum. So good, such a good girl for me.” he pulls out and cums over your lower back. He lays you back across the couch arm.

“Bathroom?” he asks

“Down the hall and to the right,” you reply. He follows your directs and comes back with a warm rag, cleaning up after himself. He pulls on his briefs and lays down on the couch. “Come here, cariño,” he gestures for you to lie with him. You put your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat starting to even out.

“I'm losing my touch. I used to be able to make it longer; I'm getting old”, he muses.

“Losing your touch? You rocked my world.”, you laugh.

“I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I had a fantastic time.” he kisses the top of your head, “And dinner? So good”, you waves the ‘ok’ gesture.

Soon, the two of you just lay there. He runs his fingers across your hairline, lightly tracing your head. You could fall asleep like this. And you do just that, letting that fluffy dream world come to you.

-------

You wake up the following day to Javi snoring into your ear. You could get used to this, maybe in your much bigger bed, but still. Your dream state comes to an extreme holt when you make eye contact… with your cat.

“Don't you judge.” you mean mug her, scrunching your nose.

You gently remove yourself from Javi’s very asleep body. Then, you hop in the shower, cleaning a little bit of last night off of your body. Your soaps cover your body, leaving a smell of rose hips and vanilla. The door opens, you peek your head out to see if it's Avery.

“Got room for one more?” Javi says, leaning against the doorframe.

“Of course. Hop in”, you answer. He steps in behind you. “here, let me. Turn around”, you pour out some body wash into your hands and massage it into his neck, shoulders, and back. You get to a particularly bad knot in his back and rub it out.

“You are a goddess. That hurts so well. I haven't had someone rub my back in so long.” he keeps his eyes closed, enjoying it. He tilts his head back, and you take the opportunity to wash his head. Finally, he lets out a satisfactory groan. “This feels so good.”

“Just glad I can make you feel good,” you snort.

You both hop out, drying off.

“Time to make you feel good,” he scoops you up.

Here we go again.

#javier x reader #Javier Pena #Smut #immortal #My writing #immortal au #coffeeshop au

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: hello, my loves! i am a senior in high school so the next two weeks are going to be extremely hectic for me with final exams and other senior stuff. i will try to get out chapters when i can but they may not always be on time!

Masterlist

Chapter 30

You returned home to see Spencer at the kitchen table with his laptop out and a bunch of papers sprawled out in front of him.

“What’s all this?” you asked.

“So you know how we were discussing moving into a slightly bigger house to have room for the twins,” Spencer said, “I found us a realtor and I have been printing out different houses that fit our requirements all day. You can go through them and I’ll send the approved ones over to her so she can schedule us a tour.”

“Alright, let’s see them,” you smiled, taking the seat next to him.

His hand immediately found its way to your belly and began his rubbing motions.

“This one is close to Jo's elementary school but she will only be there for 2 more years but the twins will be going there eventually. It’s just a little bit of a bigger yard than we have here. But, it’s pretty far away from your work,” Spencer stated.

He continued to go through the contenders, thoroughly explaining every pro and con that you wouldn’t even have thought of.

“This last one has the biggest backyard of them all. It’s about 8 minutes closer to your work than here. It’s even got a little sun room we can use as a book nook! It is farther from Jo’s school but it’s about a 3 minute drive to JJ and Will’s so we could start a carpool with them,” Spencer spoke.

“I think that one is my favorite as of now. And, I’m sure Jo wouldn’t have any arguments about being closer to her best friend,” you giggled.

“There’s also one more thing we need to brainstorm,” you began, “Names for the little ones. I honestly spent the better part of the day trying to think of some but I just can’t.”

“I have an idea,” Spencer smiled softly, “Ophelia.”

It was Spencer’s favorite song on your playlist that you played in the car. He even sang along to it sometimes, he actually had a nice voice when he wholeheartedly sang without caring about potentially embarrassing himself.

“Heaven help a fool who falls in love,” you grinned, finishing the lyric.

“I’m stuck on a boy name though,” Spencer huffed.

Jo came strolling into the kitchen to get her afternoon snack.

“Baby J, do you have any name suggestions for your little brother?” you asked.

Her face lit up and she ran back upstairs. She came racing back down with two books in her hand.

“Daddy, remember?” she held up a picture book.

“That’s the story I read you last night,” Spencer nodded.

“Name him ‘Oliver’ like the little baby elephant in the book!” she exclaimed.

“I actually love it,” you grinned.

“Ollie for short,” Spencer added with a smile.

“And for sister, Pinkalicious!” Jo beamed, holding up the other picture book.

“Aw, baby, I’m sorry. I think we already decided on ‘Ophelia’ for sister but we’ll keep that in the back of our minds,” you told her, giving her a pat on the head before she went back upstairs.

“I don’t know Spencer, Pinkalicious Y/L/N-Reid has quite the ring to it,” you giggled.

Your maternity leave had officially begun the week before you were due. You were lounging on the couch watching a nature documentary with Jo when you felt the sudden urge to use the bathroom.

As you stood, you felt the rushing of warm water trail down your thighs, effectively soaking your leggings, followed by a searing cramping sensation.

You immediately sat down on the hardwood floor, cringing in pain and exhaling sharply.

“Jo,” you breathed out, “I need you to call Daddy and tell him the twins are coming and get me a towel please.”

“Okay, Mommy,” Jo nodded, hopping off the couch and grabbing your phone.

She pressed Spencer’s contact as she ran upstairs to get you a towel.

Spencer was in the checkout line at the grocery store when his phone started to buzz in his pocket.

He fished it out, seeing your contact pop up, “Hey, love. I’m already in line but if you need something, make it quick so I can go run and get it.”

“Daddy! It’s Jo,” Jo announced from the other side of the phone.

“Hi, Princess. Is everything okay?” Spencer asked.

“Mommy peed a lot,” she started to say.

Spencer then heard your scream of pain in the background.

“And she said the twins are coming,” Jo stated.

“Uh-um-okay Jo, tell Mommy I’ll be there in 10 minutes. And um call Auntie JJ to come pick you up,” Spencer frantically spoke.

“Next,” the cashier called out.

“Um hi, I just got a call that my wife is going into labor so I have to go. I’m so sorry.”

The cashier smiled, “No problem. I think your wife needs you a lot more right now than these groceries.”

“Thank you,” Spencer rushed out of the store, breaking every speed limit on the way home.

JJ was pulling into the driveway at the same time Spencer was.

“Oh good, Jo called you,” Spencer said, exiting his car, “Thank you for taking her.”

“It’s no problem. She can stay with us for as long as you need,” JJ replied as they both rushed into the house.

You were still on the ground, sitting on the towel Jo retrieved for you.

“Spence, it hurts so bad like really really bad. Worse than Jo,” you grabbed his hand with tears running down your face.

“I’m so sorry, love, that I can’t take some of that pain away but we’ve got to get you to the hospital with doctors and nurses who can help,” he spoke softly, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

You nodded and Spencer held out his arm for you to grab on to so he could help you up.

“Hospital bag?” you questioned.

“Already in the car, love. You’re doing so good, look we’re almost at the car,” he encouraged you.

“I’m going to ruin your seat,” you huffed out, motioning to your soggy pants.

“Love, that is the furthest of my concerns right now,” he assured you, helping you into the car and buckling you in.

“My wife’s in labor!” Spencer announced as he helped you hobble into the ER.

Immediately, a nurse rolled a wheelchair over to you.

“I called in the car. Dr. Collins is supposed to be on call,” Spencer said.

“Yes, right this way,” the nurse guided you to a room in the delivery wing where Dr. Collins was already waiting.

“Ah, the Reids! I guess the babies decided to come out a week early,” she smiled as Spencer and the nurse helped you into the bed.

“I’m going to check to see how many centimeters dilated you are. You can start pushing at 10,” she stated, “...and you are somehow already there. These babies are very eager to meet their parents!”

“I’m going to check the ultrasound real quick,” Dr. Collins rolled the machine over to you and scanned the wand across your belly.

“So unfortunately, we aren’t going to be able to have a vaginal birth today like planned. The baby girl is ready to come out first but she is in breech position meaning she is flipped the opposite way we want her. We’re going to bring you up to the OR for a C-section, okay?”

You looked at Spencer panickedly.

“Scared, Spence” is all you could muster.

“I can be in there with her, right?” Spencer asked.

“That is correct,” Dr. Collins nodded.

“Love, you are the strongest and bravest person I know. You can do this,” Spencer brushed your stray hairs back, “I will be right by your side the whole time and then you can finally have Ophelia and Oliver in your arms.”

“Okay,” you nodded, wincing as another contraction intensified.

“I love you so much,” Spencer kissed the top of your head as they wheeled you up to the OR.

The nurse handed Spencer scrubs to put on over his normal clothes, “Love, I need to let go of your hand for just a second to put these on but then I’ll be right back.”

Spencer continued to give you words of encouragement and promises of all the things you were going to do together as a family with the new babies to distract you from the discomfort throughout the c-section.

When you heard the first cry, you started to get choked up.

“Oh god, she’s so beautiful, Y/N. We made that,” Spencer sobbed.

You squeezed his hand, “Go.”

“Are you sure?” Spencer asked.

“Ophelia is crying for her Daddy,” you smiled through happy tears.

Spencer stood and was out of your line of vision but you could still hear his occasional sobs and him calling out the weight and other things to you from across the room.

You heard the second distinct cry. You could already tell your babies apart from just their wails alone.

“Ollie’s here, love!” Spencer bawled, “He’s just as precious as Ophelia.”

You were stitched up and brought into the recovery room as the babies were measured, tested, and swaddled. Spencer rolled two bassinets into your room with the biggest smile on his face and watery eyes.

“I can’t believe they’re here,” you wept, “How are they so cute?”

Spencer gently lifted up Ollie and placed him into your left arm and then Ophelia in your right.

You held the cooing babies in your arms, looking down at them in complete awe.

“Spence, can you take one of them?” you asked, “I mean I would love to hold them both forever but I’m thoroughly exhausted.”

“Ollie seems to be on the same page,” Spencer smiled at the little boy snoozing in your arms, “I’ll take Ophelia for a little walk and make some phone calls to our families and the team.”

Sleeping didn’t seem to be on Ophelia’s schedule as she was staring around the room with her big wide eyes, trying to take in the whole world.

“Ophelia, that’s your Dada,” you explained to her even though you knew she couldn’t understand.

“Yes, I’m your Dada,” Spencer beamed as he accepted the baby into his arms.

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @rem-ariiana

#spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader #cm fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #cm fic

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struggling-with-time · 3 years

Text

Rainy days [Corpse x reader]

Paring: Corpse husband x Female!reader

Summary: “corpse x fem!reader ( she’s also a youtuber ) where they are just friends for a few years, but reader has been developing feelings for a while now. with corpse’s fan base growing so quickly, there’s also a lot of growing attention from other girls ( fans & other social media influencers ). corpse is happy with all the attention, while it is breaking the reader’s heart more every day. basically, super angsty lol and it’s totally up to you how you want to end it!” requested by anon

“please make one where like the reader and corpse fought so its like raining outside and yk the cliche type” requested by anon

Warnings: Angst and jealousy, kinda sad, I’m sorry

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Open for requests. Two requests for one.

Read part 2 cloudy afternoons here

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You’re happy for Corpse, of course you are. What good friend wouldn’t be happy for their friend when they suddenly start to shoot for the stars? You definitely would. Right? It’s not like it hurts to watch him take in all these girls that throw themselves at him, he has never been happier for the many years you’ve known him. His YouTube channel is finally paying the bills for him, and you’re happy he doesn’t have to fear getting an eviction note, for dancing on the line a little too long. You’re happy that he has all these new friends. You’re happy he’s enjoying himself. You’re happy, because he’s happy. So why does it hurt so much?

You’ve had feelings for your best friend for quite some time. You tried to push them away, which in return just seemed to cultivate them and make them stronger. You tried your damn best just to be his quirky happy best friend that was along with him for the ride. You never minded being the one to pick up the pieces when he fell apart. He would do the same for you… He would do the same for you, right?

You wipe away a tear escaping from your eye. You’re sitting in the shower crying on the floor. This is really what you’ve become? You think to yourself, as you lean your head back against the wall, looking up at the wooden ceiling.

He would do the same for you…

You dryly laugh to yourself, of course he wouldn’t, because then he would have known when you started pulling away. You wipe the tears away, get up and rise off your face once more, before stepping out. You look at where your mirror used to be. You took it down, not able to face yourself was easier than to accept this is just how you look permanently now. Dark circles underneath your eyes, as they’ve sunken quite a bit.

You kind of forgot how you really looked sometimes, until you caught yourself in something reflective, like your pc when it ran out of power, or your metallic glazed mug. You smile bitterly at the memory, Corpse had bought it to you when you reached 100.000 subs on YouTube, saying the play button wasn’t enough. It used to be a prized possession, now it was one of your worst.

You’re happy you build your YouTube brand on variety gaming, without a face cam. You couldn’t imagine having to explain away the way you looked. The monotone in your voice was hard enough.

I was just having an off day

Sorry, kind of sick today

My microphone isn’t picking up my voice probably.

You sigh to yourself as you collect your phone, and your empty bag. The fridge doesn’t fill itself. You’re pretty sure your fans caught onto something being wrong by the 4th excuse. You lock the door behind you, and glace up at the sky. It seems to be getting darker. You sigh as you realize you’re not going to be back home before it’s raining.

You walk the short distance down to the bus as you wait for it to arrive, you scroll through your twitter feed. It’s filled with pretty girls, much prettier than you are, throwing themselves at Corpse. You get a sudden urge to throw your phone into the passing traffic, but money has been tight lately with your down tuning of content, to take more time to be able to self-pity in the living room with a shitty romance show going on.

You really lost your best friend to your own feelings, huh. What an anticlimax.

You step onto the bus, not noticing the black dressed, black masked guy in the end of it. Watching you intentionally. If you had been able to read minds, you would hear the ongoing battle in his head on whether or not to approach you.

The bus pulls up the grocery store and you get off. Not sparing the other two passengers getting off a second thought. You pull your jacket closer together, as the wind starts getting colder. You finally arrive in the store, just a few seconds before the rain starts to drop.

The calming ominous music of the store fills your eyes, as you focus on getting something edible that isn’t directly just sugar with more sugar. You pick your groceries carefully, nothing that needs a lot of preparation. But if you eat one more tv meal, you’re going to throw it up. You’re too distracted by what pasta to choose, that you don’t realise the guy in black has now passed you for the 5th time, while you’re in aisle 9.

You choose both and head for the register. You sigh as you watch the long line, there’s only one way out, and you’re certainly not leaving your groceries now. You step in line. And pull out your phone. The lock screen taunting you with a picture of you and Corpse mushed together somehow in his gaming chair, you’re pretty sure it was Dave that took the photo. You shake your head and check the time. The bus just left. You sigh knowing there is a little over an hour before the next one leaves. Fucking public transport.

It finally becomes you, you watch the price tick up further and further. You take your card out. Swipes it through.

Declined.

What? You try it again

Declined.

C’mon, it has got to work. You try again

Declined.

And again

Declined.

And again

Declined.

You smile apologetic to the cashier, as you start to figure out what you won’t be needing too much.

“I’ll pay for her.” A deep voice speaks further down the line. You know exactly the person whose voice that is.

“Please, you don’t have to-“ You watch as Corpse steps out of the line and puts a box of cereal on the register for the cashier to ring up with the rest of your stuff.

“I don’t-“

“That’ll be 79 dollars and 32 cents, please.” The cashier ignores you.

Corpse pays and gets the receipt, knowing you’re going to beg him for you to pay him back. You used to do the same when you were little. Corpse stands by as he watches you pack your groceries, and he waits for you. He barely recognized you in the bus. It’s been weeks since you last spoke, and even longer since you last saw each other. He knows you were getting bad, but not this bad. He don’t know why he never reached out he knows he should. But there are too many unsaid things hanging in the air, and neither of you wanting to be the one to pick the first one.

He reaches out to take one of the two bags. But you take it right underneath him, and walk to the doors, leaving him to hurry after or be left behind.

“Y/N I-“

He gets surprised by the rain, he hadn’t noticed the darkening sky earlier. You keep walking until he calls out after you again.

“Y/N! Please!”

You stop in you tracks. To think you had missed hearing your name from his lips, he uses it like it’s not the only thing you have left that’s your own.

He jogs the remaining distance and puts his hand on your shoulder, and you let him turn you around to make him face you. He’s not sure if it’s the rain, or if it’s tears that’s starting to fall. He takes the rest of your face in, the dark circles, the clear weight loss. He know, you don’t know how much you don’t look like yourself.

“Listen, thank you, I’ll pay you back next month. But if you’re not going to say anything, I have places to be, and-“

He puts his hand on her chin caressing it. She suddenly looks so small standing there in front of him. You quickly pull yourself back, wanting to lean into his touch, but knowing that it would only make what hurts, hurt more in the end.

“What did you want?” You snap at him. And something snaps in him too, as his brows furrows together.

“Oh I don’t know. Say hi to my best who just up and disappeared from the face of earth two months ago. I wonder what I want.” He snaps back at you, his deep voice nearly emitting a growl of frustration from him.

“So what, that’s what it takes 2 months before you want to find me. Did you get tired of all those girls throwing themselves at you? Did you get tired of your new friends you just cast me aside from? Did you get tired of all the money? Please do tell.” You stretch out your arms in a welcoming stance.

Corpse takes a step back, you’ve never yelled at him like this before. Tears streaming down your face as you’re soothing anger.

“…You think I threw you aside?” Corpse sucks in a breath waiting for your anger to come at him, but instead you suddenly look small again.

“Didn’t you Corpse? The excuse why I could never come over anymore, why you never had time. I was happy for you, you know, I supported you all the way. Heck I even fucking loved you, and you cast me aside, you up and threw away so many memories and a long friendship, just because I suddenly didn’t fit into your new group.” You look him straight in the eyes. “Corpse, I’m tired okay. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t keep picking up your pieces and help you reassemble yourself, for you to keep casting me aside. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t need your pity; I don’t need anything from you. I’ll make sure you get the money first thing next month.”

She takes a step away from him, the before intimate atmosphere now fully escaped.

“All I ask is that we part here. I love you too much to watch you fall apart again.” Your voice is trembling as you turn around heading for the bus stop, leaving Corpse in the rain to fend for himself.

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband fic #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #delias own writing

867 notes · View notes

hoboal87 · 3 years

Text

Storm

Title: Storm

Pairings: Dean x F!Reader, mentions of Sam x Eileen

Characters: Dean, F!Reader, minor mentions of Sam and Eileen, unnamed OFCs

Word Count: ±2.1k

Warnings: anxiety, car accident, major injuries, angst, fluff, blink and you’ll miss it pre-smut, post 15x19, more spoilers will be in the tags.

A/N: Requested by a nonnie: “Hi sweetie, I adore your writing especially dean fics. Can I pleaaase request a flangsty one shot of dean x reader where they get into a car crash and she's the one who's badly injured?? And maybe they are stuck in a snow storm or something so help would take forever to come and dean is just trying to keep her alive? With lots of worried and gentle dean?? But I don't want her to die pleaaase 🥺🥺 thank you so much. And no pressure if you don't want to write it ❤️”

A special shout-out to @deanwinchesterswitch for taking time during her #BlogAppreciationBounce to beta this for me! Thanks Kym, you’re the best!

My Full Masterlist

My Dean Masterlist

Tags are open! Tag yourself here!

Have a request? Send me an ask or DM!

You walk through the aisles of the grocery store, pushing the ever-growing cart in front of you. You and Dean had finally moved all of your belongings into your new home, and now you needed to stock it full of food. Dean is like a kid in a candy store, grabbing so many unnecessary items that you can only shake your head and suppress your giggles.

A thunderclap from outside makes you jump slightly; spring in Kansas, a woman just a few feet in front of you notes, you politely smile as she suggests stocking up on bottled water and canned goods. When you were living in the Bunker, severe weather wasn’t even on your radar. It was a fortress, with all sorts of magic protecting it. But now, you and Dean are living in an ordinary, run-of-the-mill house, and Kansas is smack-dab in the middle of tornado alley.

Dean meets you at the checkout counter, two pies in hand, and you give the cashier a small smile. Another thunderclap makes you jump, and Dean immediately wraps his arms around your waist, calming you, reminding you that it’s just a little rain. Thunderstorms had made you anxious ever since your family was attacked by a wendigo when you were a teenager. Every storm dredges up memories of you and your family fighting for your lives as the creature used a storm to hide in the shadows and the sounds of thunder to cover its inhuman screams.

Rain begins to fall as you load bag after bag into the trunk of Baby, empty now that Dean has retired. A large bolt of lightning strikes, brightening up the sky, making the heavy, dark clouds visible for a moment.

As Dean pulls Baby out of the parking lot, rain has begun falling; scattered droplets softly thumping on the roof of the car. You and Dean live away from town, out in the middle of nowhere, your closest neighbors being Sam and Eileen, owning the property next to yours, but their house was still being built, so for the time being, it was only you and Dean for nearly five miles. It didn’t seem like a lot of distance when you first chose the property; in fact, you originally wanted to buy both pieces of land so that you and Dean could have all 10 acres to yourselves.

Dean drives past the Gas n’ Sip, the closest business next to your home, and turns down the road that would eventually lead to your new house. The five-mile distance shouldn’t seem like a lot, but now, as the rainfall becomes heavier, you wished you’d chosen a home closer to town.

The thick, heavy rain makes it almost impossible for you to see anything more than a few feet in front of you. You take a long, calming breath, trying to keep your nerves intact as lightning strikes again in the distance. Dean notices your nerves starting to get the better of you and reaches over to give your knee a reassuring squeeze before bringing the car to a stop.

“You wanna wait out the rain?” He asks, taking your sweaty palm into his own.

“Food’ll spoil,” you counter, trying to cover your growing nerves.

“S'just food, sweetheart,” Dean unbuckles himself and slides closer before reaching over to do the same to you. “We can get more tomorrow.”

Dean wraps his arm around your shoulders as the storm seems to grow even stronger. He places a gentle kiss on your lips and reaches to the back seat, grabbing a blanket to cover you both. Under the worn blanket, Dean’s hand rubs up and down your thigh, inching closer to your covered core. This wouldn’t be the first time that Dean’s tried to get frisky in the Impala; hell, not even the third or fourth but with your anxiety running on high, the last thing you want is to fool around.

You don’t have to say anything, just gently intertwining your fingers with his and he seems to get the message. You curl up against him, basking in his familiar warmth and smell, praying that the storm would soon be over. Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest as the wind howls with enough force to cause the Impala to rock slightly on the road.

After you’ve calmed, Dean suggests heading on home. You nod slightly, wanting nothing more than to crawl into the comfort of your bed. He slides back over before shifting the car into gear and slowly starts accelerating.

Pain. Cold. Wet.

Steam rises from Baby’s engine, and thunder claps again. The last thing you remember is a horn honking and Dean slamming on the brakes before everything went dark. Your body lies limp on the hood of the car, glass shards from the windshield surrounding you.

The Impala’s front end is crushed, and the heat from the engine warms you as you try to piece together what happened. You can hardly focus on anything; there’s another car a few yards away; it must be the one you collided with. You try to move your body, but it’s then you realize that you can’t feel anything below your waist. You groan as you desperately try to move, hoping that you can will yourself onto your feet and find Dean. You can barely make out a low moan through the sound of the rain hitting the metal. You want to turn, but you can't; pain radiates throughout your body, at least the parts you can still feel. You try to call out to Dean, to anyone for help, but you can't find the words to do so. Your brain and mouth aren't connecting, and the only sounds that you manage to make are whimpers of pain.

A figure appears in the rain, cursing as he seems to take in your broken figure; he's almost yelling at what you can only assume is some 911 dispatcher.

"Shit.. one of the passengers…conscious? The driver? I'll try…"

The man appears at your side, and you can still see the phone attached to his ear.

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" He asks cautiously, you want to nod, but you're too afraid to move your head, afraid that you could accidentally hurt yourself further. "Her eyes are open; she's breathing," the man relays into the phone. "Uh.. ragged. There's blood… Ma'am? I'll try that. Blink if you can hear me."

You slowly but deliberately blink your eyes. The man breathes out a sigh of relief.

"Y/N!" Dean's voice comes from through the broken windshield. The man hurries away from you and towards Dean. You can only make out the muffled noises as the man tries to convince Dean to stay inside Baby, but you know he won’t; he’s too stubborn to listen to anyone.

The rain begins to let up, and the man tells Dean that an ambulance is on the way. The sound of Dean’s boots on the wet concrete put you at ease, knowing that he’s, at the very least, in better shape than you are. You count the strides that Dean takes before he’s beside you, frowning slightly at the large gash on his forehead. Dean’s eyes rake over your body, and you know something is going on that neither man is telling you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean’s hand gently cups your cheek, and you know that he’s trying to keep his voice steady. “Help’s comin’ baby, okay? You’re gonna be okay, y’hear me?”

You try to mumble a response, but the words still don’t form. The rain is now nothing more than a sprinkle, clouds shifting to reveal the night sky. Numbness has taken over the rest of your body as Dean keeps his eyes focused on you, assuring you over and over again that you're going to be okay. Off in the distance, you can hear a siren, and Dean squeezes your hand tightly as he tells the man to grab two flares from the trunk.

“Help’s almost here, Y/N.”

“De,” you barely manage to mumble out, “’m tired.”

“I know, baby.” Dean looks relieved at the sound of your voice. “Gotta stay awake, Y/N, please. Y’can’t go to sleep, baby, not until help gets here. Promise me you’ll stay awake.”

“Love you,” you murmur as your eyes close, and every breath becomes more difficult to take.

“Y/N, baby, I need you to open your eyes,” Dean begs as the siren grows closer. “Please, honey, just a coupla minutes. Please Y/N, you have to fight for just a little while longer; lemme see those pretty eyes, baby.”

With all the energy you can muster, you slowly open your eyes, focusing on Dean as he breathes out a sigh of relief. His face is wet; whether it's from the rain or fallen tears, you can’t be sure. Dean offers you a pained smile before leaning forward to press a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Red and blue lights illuminate the sky, and a handful of overlapping voices fill the air. A paramedic replaces Dean, who refuses to leave your side until a firefighter drags him away. Your vision blurs as the new person begins quickly examining you while another puts a brace around your neck. A team of paramedics turns you over, and slides a board under you before lifting you off the hood of the Impala and putting you onto a stretcher. You can barely register what’s happening around you, and you want to cry out as they load you into the ambulance.

The collar around your neck keeps your head facing up, and you try desperately to look for Dean. Your eyes frantically search from side to side before Dean comes into view. He reaches forward, and you feel the familiar calloused hands rubbing against yours. Voices are flying, asking Dean question after question; is she allergic to any medications? Did she lose consciousness? Any prior existing conditions? Blood type?

Your hearing becomes muffled and your vision becomes tunneled as Dean struggles to answer each question.

“She’s seizing!”

A steadily beeping heart monitor awakens you. There’s a tube down your throat and you’ve seen enough Dr. Sexy to know it’s a breathing tube. You cough as you try to breathe and the heart monitor’s beeping becomes more rapid. A nurse is in the room quickly, telling you to keep calm before calling someone else in to help remove the tube. She orders you to cough again and again until the tube is out.

“D’n?” Your throat sore and raspy from the tube being down your throat for who knows how long. “‘Ere’s D’n?”

“He’s gone home, Y/N,” the nurse, Rebecca, tells you calmly. “Visiting hours ended a while ago. We’ll call him as soon as we get you a work-up.”

“S’okay?” You hate that your brain and mouth aren’t working together, and you can only speak in half-formed words. Rebecca nods, smiling as she takes your vitals and calls for an orderly. “How l’ng out?” You struggle to ask, but she seems to understand your question.

“Six months.”

Hours later, you’ve been poked and prodded by too many doctors to keep count of. Words may take a few days, but you’ll get them back, a neurologist assures you, just keep practicing.

By the time they’ve returned you to your room, Dean is there, eyes glistening as Rebecca wheels you in. You want to stand up to meet him, but your limbs, like the rest of your body, don’t want to cooperate with you. Dean crouches down to meet you, the skin on his forehead slightly red from where you remember seeing the gash. He leans forward and presses a kiss on your lips.

“Missed you, sweetheart.”

Dean and an orderly help you back into bed, and he takes a seat in the chair next to you, taking you by the hand and rubbing the back of your palm gently. A team of doctors explains everything to you and Dean—that you’ll have a long road of recovery, you’ll need physical therapy for your limbs, you’ll most likely need a speech pathologist, but with hard work, you’ll be back to your old self in a matter of time.

“You’re very lucky, Y/N,” one of the many doctors says as the others clear out of your room. You let out a scoff, you’ve been in a coma for six months, and you’re lucky?

“Honestly, I’d call it a miracle,” he remarks before leaving, and for a moment, you swear his eyes flash red.

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