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you-did-well-moon · 3 years

Text

Day6 Reaction to s/o learning their instrument while they're away

Type: Fluff, angst in Dowoon dont know what happened wasnt me

Word Count: 2.865

A/n: I took some creative freedom with why they were away but that is it. Keep in mind, I have no experience with instrument except for when I played the piano in 5th grade for like two weeks. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! - Moon

TW: small cuts, fight, second hand embarrassment

Sungjin

Sungjin was absolutely and devastatingly exhausted. His own guitar case felt like it was weighing him down tremendously, and he had a huge headache. Jae and Wonpil arguing in the back of the car was not helping in any way. It has been going on since they left the airport. He rubbed at his temples tiredly pressing his head against the cool window from his place in the passenger seat next to their manager.

Still, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he thought about seeing you, probably curled up in the couch cheeks puffed from the snack you were inhaling. The pounding in his head lightened at the cute sight he would soon get to enjoy as he played with the loose threads of his old button up shirt.

True to Sungjin’s imagination, your form was sitting on the couch. Not true to his imagination, you were actually bent over something in your lap, lightly humming and bopping your head to the rhythm being produced by your still clumsy fingers. The guitar in your lap had gotten lighter as the days went by without your boyfriend, and in replacement of his touch, leaving your fingertips warm and tingling, it was small cuts you hadn’t bothered to bandage as it disrupted you when playing.

You missed Sungjin an abnormal amount. The cold spot in the bed or him making weird faces at you through the mirror in the mirror when brushing your teeth. You missed all of it. With a slight tremble in your chest you started playing the chorus to “You Were beautiful”.

You were so focused on trying to get it right you didn’t notice the door closing only to startle when you slightly looked up through your lidded eyes seeing the shadow looming over the coffee table. With a small yelp of surprise you jumped immediately looking up only to find your boyfriend staring at you with wide eyes.

His surprised expression made you shrink into yourself. You threw your head into your hands in pure embarrassment letting the guitar gently slide off your lap, hitting the floor with a soft thump. “Can you just pretend you didn’t see that I can’t believe I even tried learning all that by myself I” you cut yourself off with an un-pleased sigh shaking your head and looking at him with pleading eyes.

Your boyfriend continued in his frozen state for about five seconds before breaking out in the biggest smile rushing around the coffee table in which you panicked trying to get away from him with a squeal, but being too slow im the excitement that was usually in a much dormant state in Sungjin. The wrinkles near the corner of his eyes deepened adoringly, and his chest shook with soft laughter while he held you close.

There was a fond twinkle in his eye as Sungjin forgot any tiredness that clung to his bones and kissed the tips of your fingertips while maintaining eye contact. He kept your hands encased in his when scolding you for having such low faith in yourself and softly encouraging you. He would probably put little stitch band-aids on your fingertips and continue teaching you, sitting you on his lap and scolding you when you lose focus with a sharp poke at your ribs smiling when you giggled. This man just fell impossibly more in love with you.

“You shouldn’t say those things, look at you love, learning all alone and doing so well. I'm so proud. Would you rather have the elmo band-aids or the stitch band-aids… I don’t know about you but Elmo kinda creeps me out. Just five more minutes little love then you can go mug Young k with Dowoon. Don’t look at me like that! You finally have a teacher and you take him for granted. The audacity-”

Jae

Jae was a thin hair away from just ripping his hair out. He didn’t believe the kpop industry would take very kindly to him going bald, but he had come to a point where he didn’t really care about what people thought anymore. But thinking about you not being able to play with his hair anymore while he drifted off to sleep with his head on your chest severely upset him.

Jae had gotten stuck in another limbo, stuck in the studio and in his own head desperately trying to finish any of the unfinished songs left in his computer files. He missed you so much, he eventually called it quits, deciding to go home to you, who he hadn’t seen in days.

Just the thought about seeing you energized his previously exhausted self. He never could get sick of you. Every day, every week was a new adventure, a new chapter, all with his favorite person in the world. The night sky, although beautiful, seemed to mock him, reminding him of how late it was, meaning you were most probably asleep.

Opening the door to his apartment, he heard soft music. He briefly recognized “I Need Somebody”, and thought you were playing it from your phone. All his thoughts came to a halting stop when he saw you perched on the bed, in his shirt, playing the melody of the previously mentioned song.

You had hair falling into your eyes with your eyebrows slightly scrunched trying not to mess up and heavily focused. Jae had loudly yelled in surprise, causing you to flinch and look up shocked at the sudden surprise. When you saw it was just him, you had comically thrown your hands in the air yelling at him about how it was supposed to be a surprise.

The irritated look on your face vanished as you went up to give him a light hug with a kiss, softly smiling at him. Meanwhile Jae, was completely out of it, lovestruck eyes while he instinctively returned your affection.

“Come Jae, you look like you haven’t slept in ages, your eyes are so sunken babe”, you had softly whispered to him, rubbing the soft skin under his eyes, the way you were always soft with him when he came back from the studio. You slept in the same bed for the first time in what had been days, Jae tightly clutching on to you.

He may have not been completely there at the moment, but in the morning when he had time to process everything, he was a changed man. He wouldn’t stop laughing and giggling excitedly, eagerly wanting to hear everything you had learnt. He even poked fun at you when you made a mistake. But it was all lovingly as he also praised you non stop while looking at you with his messy hair and big smile next to you on the couch. He had so much inspiration now. To finish what had been left behind.

“Pop off queen who gave you this much talent, you couldn’t even tell me what bass was last time we talked, which was like a week ago. Might just make you play when I don’t feel like playing. Give you a wig and people won’t know the difference! Why are you booing me, I'm right?”

Young K

Young K’s foot tapping on the floor of the car was the only sound that filled the car aside from the soft sound of the car’s engine and tires. He was absolutely spent, having to have stayed in a different city for a show he was invited to that was filmed far away from his home.

Far away from you. Young K could tell his manager was starting to get irritated, but Young K was already massively annoyed and too far in his own world to really care. He missed the pine scent of his sheets, and he missed you.

It was not a good combination. When he got to his place he quietly thanked the manager, getting his bag before trying to ignore every urge telling him to run into the building and fall into his soft bed with you in his arms. When he opened the door, your keys were there, so he knew you were in the building. That thought filled him with more relief than it should have.

He did have to admit, hearing “I smile” this early in the day was odd as you usually saved the more mellow songs for later in the night. Young K told himself he had many euphoric moments in his life, but seeing you staring at a sheet of paper with so much determination and a bass guitar in your arms came pretty close to the top.

The absolute warmth that exploded in his chest was a feeling he would not forget in a long time. He could feel his lips slightly curl up in fondness as your hands shook while your eyes wavered unsurely between your hands on the strings and the video on your laptop sitting further on the edge of the bed. Your face scrunched up before you sighed and stared dejectedly at the instrument on your lap.

“Why so sad love?" His voice made you instantly sit up, pushing the instrument gently off your lap. You crawled to the edge of the bed where Young K had already gotten closer where he met you tenderly running his hand through your hair, and he curved his hand around the back of your head bringing your forehead to his abdomen.

He brushed his thumb over where your hairline met the sensitive skin of the back of your neck immensely enjoying being back at your side. Your hands were clutching the back of his shirt, and your simple touch brought a warm feeling to his chest. You both leaned back as Young K’s chest started to rumble with laughter “You should have waited for me, it would have been easier if I could teach you”, he softly said, pushing your hair back from your face causing you to lightly laugh.

“I wanted to surprise you, but I didn’t get that far anyways. Can’t become a prodigy in one day I guess”. Young K smiled again, promising to himself to help you as much as he could as he put his hand fondly on top of your head.

“You’re doing so good, just move your finger up a little, you’re plucking the c chord instead of the e chord during the chorus, don’t look at me like that i’m trying to help?! I wouldn’t put you on my level, but I think you’re doing really well. I’m hungry now, what do you want? No- What do you want? I am okay with anything just tell me-”

Wonpil

Wonpil was trying his hardest not to think about you. From the way you got excited when you got to see the moon in the cloudy sky to the way you smiled when you saw the neighbor’s cat while getting the mail.

He was happy to be on a trip with her sister, he hadn’t had much time to be with her in recent, well forever really. While you had been invited, you hadn’t been able to attend due to work. Wonpil did his best to keep his mind off you and enjoy the trip, he just hadn’t spent this long without you in a while.

Even so, he still had a fun time with his sister and her boyfriend creating many memories. He didn’t regret it, but he was extremely happy to come back to you. Opening the door to your apartment, he dropped his suitcase by the door, an excited smile tugging at his lips as he traveled through the apartment with his arms spread knowing you would embrace him as soon as you saw him. He felt so giddy, he didn’t even notice the broken keyboard sounds ringing throughout the living space.

His smile fell in a comical way, his face morphing into one of confusion instead. He recognized a broken rendition of “Mary had a little Lamb”, and tilted his head as he opened the door to your room seeing you with really big headphones on your head staring down at the keyboard with the most offended look on your face.

How dare this keyboard not give you its secrets! Wonpil couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his chest, not mocking you, but he just thought you were so cute. He lightly touched your shoulder causing you to jump, and the slight movement of your head caused the headphones to slide off your head. It didn’t matter much. You instantly dove into his arms, pressing the side of your face against his chest.

He felt warmth flood his chest as his hand encased the back of your head while he pressed his lips to the top, closing his eyes in bliss enjoying having you in his arms again. He leaned back from the brace as his eyes flashed with amusement and yours with slight embarrassment. He lightly laughed, eyes crinkling. He cradled your face in his hands, a teasing lilt to his voice, “What were you trying to do, hmm?” He could feel your face grow hot under his finger tips.

“I was just trying to surprise you. I felt bad for not being able to go with you”. He shook his head, hands playfully pinching your cheeks as you whined. “You shouldn’t act that way, I understood from the beginning. It must have been hard for you. Here, come, your lovely boyfriend will make this easier for you”.

“Y/n the keys will not bite prEsS dOWn, no, no keyboards do not have to be oiled, this is a musical instrument not a mechanical vehicle. You are so cute. What am I gonna do with you? No, you can not play the keyboard with your forehead, DO NOT put your foot on the keys. I don’t care if it’s for the vine.

Dowoon

Dowoon was beating himself up. Looking back at what happened a few hours ago made his chest tight. He couldn’t help but wince at the words both of you had thrown at each other. You had been with each other for so long, and when his lovely mother asked him when he would propose, although with good intentions, it put pressure on him.

He was still young. He had mentioned it to you in a joking manner, but there was a misunderstanding and you thought he was blowing it off as he didn’t see a future with you.

Somehow feelings were hurt, and the fight escalated. And Dowoon decided he was a coward because it was when you had started stuttering through your words and avoiding eye contact, he knew. He knew he had pushed you across a line that might not be able to be crossed again.

He panicked. He was really good at doing that wasn’t he? He left. He took a bus and went to the nearest hotel he could find. There he was sitting on the edge of the too perfectly made bed with his head in his hands.

Had he just ruined his precious relationship because he was scared of what the future could or could not hold? Why did he have to run away? Why couldn’t he just stay? Most importantly, how badly had he hurt you?

With a sigh he stood up, and he got on the bus back to your apartment. Staring at the door, the fact you were just on the other side and hurting is what pushed him to open it with the key you had given him. Opening the door, he was met with silence and darkness. Have you already gone? He walked through the apartment, hope dwindling with every step.

Then he heard a soft thump thump thump. His heart seemed to match with it, and as he walked to his studio which held his spare drum set, he thought of what he could say to make it better. Opening the door, he saw you softly hitting the drum with one stick, as if testing the waters and humming along to “When you Love Someone”. Dowoon couldn’t fight the sad smile that broke out on his face, and the absolute warmth that filled his chest.

Why did he ever even doubt your future with him? There was no person more perfect for him than you. He stood next to you, softly taking your hand in his and guiding your hand to the right beat, although a bit broken. When your sad eyes looked up into his, forgiving in nature but still frustrated beyond belief, he knew he could still fix things. You were you, and Dowoon was Dowoon. You always somehow found your way back to each other.

“No no, put your hands higher on the stick, no lower, now higher...a bit lower. No, Y/n drum sticks do not belong in my throat. What do you mean I have no room to talk, I thought we were over the fight. I would marry you in this life and the next! Why are you looking at me like that? I am not cute, I am handsome and overflowing with testosterone. Oooh are those gummies?

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madfantasy · 3 years

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I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

#ask #text #diary #personal #my art #miss

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waatermelon-sugaar · 3 years

Text

Take Care of Me

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 5.5k

Summary = A discussion about sex toys turns into something more … concrete

Warnings = Swearing, talk/description of mild anxiety. SMUT (18+ only), use of handcuffs in a sexy way, oral, piv sex

A/N = Prompt no.8 requested by @itspdameronthings as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” w/santi and bolded in text. Also 3 things; 1 = Tom doesn’t exist in this AU, 2 = this is basically pure smut im so sorry, and 3 = I did do head hopping in this, which I know you’re not like supposed to do but also fuck the rules y’know?

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

It’s always easy to be loose after one of Benny’s fights.

It’s a heady mix of adrenaline, beer and testosterone, swirling together into a mix that makes you forget your normal boundaries. You’re normally quite brazen about your sex life anyway, but there is a line. You respect your partners, and there’s no need for your teammates to know too much.

You’re all packed into a half-moon booth, Benny straddling a chair that he pulled up to the table after he spent too long chatting up the bartender.

It’s a small comment from Benny (because of course it’s Benny), saying that you haven’t got laid in a while, and you’re honestly surprised he noticed. But then, that’s the only predictable thing about Benny, that he is unpredictable.

Your surprise means you take a little too long actually thinking about it, which confirms Benny’s statement. You lean back a little in your seat, desperately ignoring Santi, who’s sat to your left. It also means you bite back a little harder in defence.

“Well maybe if you guys didn’t look like you’re about to murder anyone who even dares ask for my number maybe I’d have better luck.” That’s a lie, but there’s no way you’re going to tell them the truth. No way you’re going to tell Santi-

Your thoughts are interrupted by Will, sat to your right. “So you’re asking for our help?”

You scoff, hitting him up the head. “No, thank you.” Will knows why. Because of course he does. One of your oldest friends, he’d been the one who convinced you to join the team in the first place. “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”

You send a wink down to the table to Benny, who’s the first to catch on, hollering, and you try not to react to Santi leaning forward, suddenly interested, as though you’re not already hyper-aware of every body movement of his.

You continue, deciding you’re quite enjoying the effect you’ve had. “What do I need some stranger for when I can give myself a better orgasm than he could ever dream of?” You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin, as both Benny and Will holler, gaining a few glares from the pub’s other patrons.

That sip means you’re unprepared for Santi to lean in closer to you, his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his breath. “Maybe ‘stranger’ is where you’re going wrong.”

You swallow, unprepared for the sudden flare of attraction shooting through you and turning your head, just as he says, “I could take care of you.”

You catch a glimpse of Santi’s fuck me eyes when Benny (the dickhead) interrupts. Crossing his arms on the sticky table in front of him, he asks, “Does that mean you have toys?”

Frankie’s hat somehow tips lower on his head, if that’s possible.

Will twitches towards his brother, like he wants to strangle Benny for being so uncouth, but you put your hand on his upper arm. “Of course.” The best course of action is to just act like this is normal, so add a bit of air to your voice. This was normal. “Who doesn’t?”

There’s a blush rising on Benny’s cheeks and you can’t help but stoke it, grinning at him, and attempting your best bedroom eyes. He’s still not too ashamed to ask though. “What kinds?”

Will decides he’s had enough, glancing at Santi behind you with a frown and hitting Benny over the head in an imitation of the way you’d hit him. You laugh, unexpectedly pleased at the reaction you’ve gotten. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Benny nods, eager, even as Will stands, grabbing a hold of him, and steering him towards the bar. “Yes! Yes I would!” He manages to throw back at you and you laugh again, twisting your body to face Santi and Frankie, bringing your left leg onto the bench.

***

Meanwhile Santiago is in hell. He’s been in multiple hellish situations before, most similar to this one, in that it was always the 5 of you, bullets flying around your heads, rifles in your arms, weighed down by heat and sweat and tac vests.

And yet somehow, he thinks this might be the worst. Your foot next to his thigh, your knee bent, pulling your jeans up your leg and exposing your ankle to him. Watching you flirt with Benny, talking about sex, and toys, and masturbation. When that's all he wants to do with you. He just has to get the courage to tell you.

With you, there was a before in Santi’s life, and an after.

Before he knew you; and after he knew you.

Before he loved you; and after he loved you.

Except Santi’s not quite sure when he fell in love with you.

It started when Will introduced you as the newest member of the team, one of his childhood friends. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he treated you like he treated anyone else, quickly discovering that you weren’t like anyone else.

He welcomed you into his life with open arms, starting off innocently - he wanted to spend time with you. You were Will’s friend, which meant that there must be something good about you. You made him laugh, made him feel safe (even when he wasn’t). He’d wanted to do the same for you and thought he did a pretty good job.

He became your friend, until one day the two of you were watching a film. He can’t remember what it was, just that you were at his house, drinking and laughing and talking, huddled in one of his blankets, and looking like you belonged there, forever.

Falling in love with you was so easy, Santi didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Santi’s still impressed with himself that he didn’t just blurt out the words then and there. I love you.

How long had he been in love with you for? He couldn’t pinpoint down a specific moment. He remembered the night when you’d become friends - the last two around the bonfire, toasting marshmallows, making that awkward small-talk that occurs between acquaintances.

You’d made him laugh, playing chubby-bunny and teasing him until he’d had a go. You’d talked and talked, and Santi can’t even remember what about. Nothing, probably. The basics. Boring stuff, but filled with details that he’d used to keep the conversation going the next day.

He knows when he became your friend. Recognised when you trusted him more than the others, with the exception of maybe Will.

But he didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Just the day that the love became so overwhelming in his chest that he realised it.

The real nail in his metaphorical coffin was the night afterwards. The 5 of you had gone to a bar, and a girl had started talking to him as he was buying drinks. She was pretty, but she wasn’t you. And like a flashbulb, all of Santi’s previous partners flew through his mind and he realised that nothing had ever come out of them because they weren’t you.

They didn’t know how he liked his coffee, or why he had joined the military. They didn’t know the story behind his callsign, or what his favourite song was.

You did. What you weren’t there for, you asked about. You remembered. You made him feel important, like he mattered. In ways that he didn’t even really know existed.

You were the one that started him on decaf without telling him. That had been a conversation and a half. Before morning briefings, you’d started bringing him coffees. He hadn’t noticed much of a taste difference, and shamefully, had come to expect them.

Until, a month later, you weren’t there. A small trip home to visit your family, everyone knew you’d be back in a couple of days. Regardless, Santi had ordered what he’d thought was his usual coffee.

And found his anxiety rearing up again. It was subtle, making him more jumpy, less able to sleep, but it was there. He wasn’t sure what the cause was, definitely hadn’t linked it to the coffee, instead assuming that maybe he just missed you. Maybe because his anxiety hadn’t disappeared all the way, even with decaf. Maybe it was because it was your presence that helped him too.

He hadn’t even really noticed when the caffeine was gone, hadn’t noticed the absence of something wrong, only seeing the contrast when it returned. Maybe because it was gradual, the weaning off the caffeinated coffee, whereas the return, with his request of additional shot, had been too sharp for him.

You hadn’t noticed at first, assuming that Santi’s bear hug when he’d first seen you had just been because he missed you. But after lunch you pulled him to one side.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes are slightly wider with worry, and you’re chewing slightly on your bottom lip.

He hates that he’s the one to do that to you, and he tries to brush it off. “I’m fine.” That was his first mistake. His second was trying to push past you.

“Santiago!” He’s pulled up short, and there’s that tension, pulling at his shoulders, his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Your tone of voice hasn’t changed, but this time it’s a command.

Exhausted, hating himself, Santi drags his hands across his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t...I don’t know.” He takes a breath, and it shudders through him. “I don’t know.” He sounds defeated, and he hopes you can’t hear it. “I just...I feel…” How does he feel? “Jittery.” Is what he finally settles on, but the word still feels wrong somehow.

You frown, looking him up and down like you’ve never seen him before. In fact, you’re silent for so long, Santi starts to be worried that you’re going to tell him to stop being so fucking ridiculous.

You don’t, but you ask questions.

Has he been sleeping? “Not really.”

Does he have something big coming up? “Just the usual.”

Has his daily routine changed at all? “No, I don’t think so. I get myself a coffee in the morning and the-”

You interrupt him with a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” And now it’s wrong, because now you’re looking at him like it’s your fault, when it definitely isn’t. “Santi I’m sorry. It’s your coffee.”

Santi frowns. His coffee? And you sound so apologetic, and he doesn’t understand why. “I switched you to decaf.” You can’t meet his eyes any more, gaze skittering to his shoulder with nerves. And you’re not shutting up. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, or asked if I could, I just... I knew you were getting nightmares, and decaf helped me so I thought it might help y-”

Santi cuts you off with a hug.

And now, the three of you sat in the booth, he hates himself for agreeing with Benny. He would like to know. He has a sneaking suspicion, odd little comments you’ve made throughout the years that when pieced together, paint a picture. A very vivid picture that he sometimes uses to torture himself, late at night in bed, imagining what you’d look like with your hands between your legs and wrapping a hand around his-

Santi shakes his head. Now is not the time. There’s never really a good time to fantasise about one of your best friends, but in public when they’re sitting next to you, is definitely one of the worst.

And why did he have to offer to take care of you? Did he think he was in some kind of cheesy porno? What if you hated him-

In the end, it’s you who breaks him out of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed Pope.” You push out with your foot, lightly kicking his thigh, unable to read his stony face.

Throughout all of this, Frankie has kept quiet, and now the conversation seems like it’ll be returning to safer ground, he rubs a hand over his face, lifting his hat slightly. “No.” Santi protests, although he says it too fast for it to be sincere. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Good,” you reply, and Santi can see the moment a thought pops into your head that you can’t resist, he can see it in the way your eyes light up with mischief. “Out of all the boys, I figured you’d be the most likely to use toys.”

Frankie quickly slides out from his seat, muttering something about going to the toilet, his cheeks aflame, as Santi chokes a little on his beer. “Or maybe Will,” you muse, and Santi coughs again. “Shit, are you alright?” You ask, rocking forward to lean on your knee so you can rub Santi’s back for a second.

He concentrates on getting himself back under control, on not focusing how warm your hand is against his back. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to calm his heart down, praying that the room is dark enough that you won’t see him blush.

Santi nods, his eyes watering a little, and you laugh, but it’s not unkind, not even when one of your thumbs wipes at his lower lash line, brushing away his tears with the pad. It’s so unexpectedly soft, another sharp contrast to this sticky, seedy bar they’re all in, where the booth seats are cracked and the most complicated drink they make is a rum and coke.

“Good,” you say, voice quiet, scooting back on the bench, your foot closer to his thigh this time, and Santi hates himself for wanting to follow you.

Instead, he pretends everyone else is still here, even as he watches Will whisper something into Benny’s ear as they stand, drinking next to the bar, with no clear intention of returning. Suddenly Benny punches Will’s upper arm, and Santi’s eyebrows twitch slightly in confusion. Benny looks ecstatic, and for what?

“I’ve used handcuffs,” he says casually, half of his mind taken up with Benny and Will acting like lunatics at the bar behind you. He’s wrenched back to you when you raise an eyebrow, and he’s reminded what it feels like to be the centre of your world.

Fuck, you’re sexy though.

***

Your heart beat speeds up, suddenly sounding loud in your chest. Your mind is screaming Danger! at you - but how can it be? This is Santiago. You would trust him with your life. You have.

I could take care of you, flashes through your mind again. Maybe-

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to act calm when there’s a steady thrumming under your skin. “And are you the tied up person, or do you do the tying?”

Santi scoffs, like he thinks the answer is obvious. Maybe it is.

“I do the tying.”

You smirk, dragging an exaggerated eye up and down his body. “Sure about that?”

He looks relaxed, like he can take up more space now Frankie has gone. One of his hands is on your calf, gently trailing up and down, slowly setting you on fire, and you don’t even think he realises he’s doing it. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t recognise, darker, although it seems familiar. That’s been happening more and more lately, especially when it’s just the two of you. You like it.

“You want to test me babygirl?”

You feel breathless. “Maybe I’d like to try.”

You’ve never spoken with Santi like this before. You flirt with him more than the other boys, but this is new. This feels...real, somehow. More dangerous. And he’s closer now, shifting, so your foot is over his lap, his hand wrapped around your ankle, on your bare skin and you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You watch his hand move on your leg and you feel like you could evaporate.

“That’s not what good girls do.” Fuck, his voice.

“Good girls don’t do a lot of things I do.”

And you’re not sure what gives you the sudden confidence, but you lean forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. It’s a horrible angle, your legs in the way, but you don’t care.

And then you’re retreating, opening your eyes again, suddenly unsure of what you’ve just done. Your mouth feels tingly, where you can still feel Santi against you. His grip has tightened on your leg, no longer moving.

And then his hand is tugging at you a little, and there’s a smile threatening to take over his face.

Come here.

You scoot up, so your left leg is fully over him, your right leg tangling with his under the table and you can smell him now, beer and - as weird as it sounds - like a man. It’s familiar. Nice. Breathless, you shoot him a little grin, suddenly unsure.

And then he’s kissing you again and it’s everything you ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, but firm, moving against your mouth, contrasting with the slight stubble growing on his face. His free hand moves to your waist and you let out a small sound.

You break apart after a second, both of you breathless. You’ve slung your arms around his neck, fingers idly playing with his chain, and you’re the first to speak.

“So do you use those handcuffs on anyone?”

Santi kisses you again, short and sweet, before he answers, his lips mumbling against yours. “Hmm, just on girls I really like.”

You kiss again, neither of you really wanting to stop. “Can I use them on you?” Santi asks, moving to kiss along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. You feel surrounded by him, he’s all you care about, all you can feel.

Your eyes snap open, desire pooling in your belly. Is this really happening? “Yes.”

“Good.” Santi’s voice is still low in your ear, before he moves down your neck, soft lips a stark contrast to his stubble catching on your skin. “How do you feel about a date, too?”

“Yeah?” You lean back slightly so you can see his face. He’s beautiful in this light, face half hidden in the shadows, eyes dark.

His lips are brushing yours again.

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up, take you somewhere nice, do it properly.”

“Good,” you mumble against him, “that sounds really good.” Your fingers are still playing with his chain, lightly brushing against the scar on his neck. “Shall we go?”

Before you know it, the two of you are sitting in a cab, having said a quick goodbye to the others, Will asking if it was safe for them to sit back in the booth. You’d responded with the finger, not bothering with a proper reply.

Santi leans over to you, whispering into your ear. “Can I really tie you up?”

You clench your thighs together, closing your eyes in an effort not to physically respond. The pause is enough for Santi to hesitate, hand shyly holding yours. “It’s ok, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, it was just a-”

You stop him with a kiss, moving your hand so you can squeeze him in reassurance. When you answer, it’s a mumble against his mouth so the driver doesn’t hear. “Break out the handcuffs, and we’ll see if you’re as tough as you act, big boy.”

Santi groans when you lean away from him.

Getting inside Santi’s flat is a feat in itself, and you’re honestly a little proud of the restraint both of you showed by not fucking in the stairwell, stopping every couple of meters to kiss each other senseless, hips clumsily knocking together as you rile each other up.

You’ve been inside his flat before, so when Santi kicks the door closed, walking you backwards into his bedroom, kissing you all the while, you don’t protest. It’s so nice to finally kiss Santi like you’ve wanted to for a while now, so nice to feel his hands on your waist, pushing you backwards while his hips press into yours, steady now, purposeful.

His fingers are playing with the waist of your trousers, and you help him, shimmying your jeans off, pushing them down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. Then he surprises you, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your knickers down your legs.

Looking down, you feel dizzy from the rush of power this brings you. Santi looks like he’s about to worship you, his face close to your pussy. His hands are on your waist and he pushes at you, encouraging you to step back.

When you don’t he tips his head back, exposing his neck to you. “Step back.” His voice is dangerous and you can feel more wetness gathering between your legs. You grin down at him, still not moving.

In response Santi nips at your thigh, grinning when you gasp, hands flying to his hair. He pushes at you again, and this time you let him, stepping back until you hit his bed, sitting down.

Santi presses his hand against your stomach, and you allow yourself to be pushed back, falling back onto your elbows so you can watch him. He presses his nose to your mound and you squirm, impatient, as Santi spreads your knees so he can fit between your legs.

You watch him press his nose to your pussy, burying his nose in you, feeling yourself grow wetter. “You taste so good,” he groans, “Sweetest pussy I’ve tasted.” As he begins to explore you with his tongue, your hips lift off the bed with a groan and it takes you a second to recognise your own voice, broken with need. Santi’s arm reaches out, pressing you down as he explores your folds. Stubble is scratching your thighs, a pleasantly rough feeling compared to the soft wetness, the pliability of Santi’s tongue. Your clit is the first thing he concentrates on, his tongue practically lapping at you, and it all feels so good.

One hand is desperately fisting the sheets to the side of you as you try to hold on to reality, the other knotted in Santi’s short curls, nails scraping ever so slightly along his scalp even as he lifts you higher and higher. Broken pleas of his name fall from your lips when he inserts two fingers into you, gently pumping in and out, with a strangely satisfying squelch under your cries.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and unsuspecting. One second your chest is heaving, breaths short and shallow, the next you’ve tensed up as you fall apart under Santi.

He keeps kissing you, gently pressing his lips over your thighs, hips, stomach as you stare at his ceiling, willing rational thought to return to you. He’s murmuring praises into your skin, telling you how good you are for him, what a good job you’ve done, how pretty you look when you come, how he wants to make you do it again, and all the while you float somewhere above your body, hardly daring to believe this is real. Santi keeps kissing you, any skin he can get his mouth on, desperate to keep tasting you. Gradually he moves up your body, even as you lie there, panting, letting him push your top up, bunching under your arms and around your neck.

Your hands fly to his hair when he bites the soft skin of your breast peeking out from your bra, and you arch your back towards him slightly, letting out a small whine. You can feel his smirk against you, so you wrap your legs around his waist, canting your hips up, grinding against where you can feel him, hard and aching in his jeans.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, slow and lazy when Santi lets out a low growl in response. He tips his head up so he can look at you, his eyes soft as he smiles at you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

And then his body weight is gone and he’s standing next to the bed, taking his top off and it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, of course it isn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him and been allowed to look, and Santi’s all shadows and soft muscle, pale scars highlighted on his skin.

You sit up, and it takes you a second to fight your way out of your top, quickly sliding the straps of your bra off, and dropping your clothes to the side of the bed as you watch Santi cross his room, and fish out a pair of handcuffs from a box with a couple of other objects inside, as well as what you’re pretty sure looks like a strap-on. And maybe it’s because his ass is currently in your eye-line, maybe it’s the surprise, but the image of you wearing it, teasing Santi with your dick while he waits on all fours on his bed, begging for you to touch him, suddenly pops into your head, and you have to work to hold back a moan at the mental image. Oh my god.

When Santi turns back to you, he’s opened the cuffs. “Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

You suddenly feel nervous, your mouth dry, and you don’t know why, this is Santi. He’s made it clear that you don’t have to do this, and anyway you want to. “Green is good, orange is slow down, red is stop,” you recite easily, and Santi nods in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he says and his words hit deep in your stomach, unfurling something you hadn’t known existed. “You say something and I’ll untie you.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back on your hands, eyeing up the way Santi’s jeans are still on, now hanging low on his hips, exposing a small trail of hair down from his bellybutton. “What if I don’t want you to untie me?” You ask.

You can see how his eyes darken, but he doesn’t move. “Tell me you understand,” he says, voice stern and you shiver.

“I understand,” you parrot. Santi nods, pleased at you doing as he says, and steps out of his jeans, pulling his boxers off at the same time, releasing his cock. He’s hard, curving up towards his stomach and leaking pre-cum.

Almost on instinct, you lean forwards to lick it off, and Santi lets out a groan of satisfaction at the sensation of your mouth just wrapping around his head, your hands on his thighs. Before you can take him any further, he’s stepping back, shaking his head.

“Lie back,” he instructs, and you obey. Santi kneels next to you, tugging your wrists up, above your head, looping the handcuffs through his headboard and clicking them on around you. You give them an experimental tug, biting back a moan when they hold fast. “Colour?” Santi asks, and you grin up at him.

“Green.” Your voice already sounds broken. “Santi, please.”

Santi just kneels back, looking at you with those hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out, hands running up and down your body, ignoring how you squirm as best you can under him.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “Why don’t you come down here then, instead of just watching me?” Santi’s hands reach your breasts, squeezing and gently massaging and you arch your back towards him.

“You’re unhappy with my hands?” Santi returns, and stops touching you. You can’t help it, letting out a whine and straining to move your arms towards him, before remembering you can’t, your attempted movement jangling the chain a little.

“No, Santi,” you’re desperate for him to touch you again, especially now you can’t touch him,“Santi please, touch me again, touch me more.” Begging has never come so easily to you. And then Santi’s moving between your legs, gripping your hips and thrusting up, but not into you, just along your folds. You moan, shifting as best as you can while Santi coats himself with your slick, the head of his cock just pushing your clit, teasing you and riling you up further.

You suddenly really want to touch him, to rake your hands through his hair, to scratch your nails down his back, to be able to suck a purple hickey into his skin. You let your head fall back to the bed, pushing your hips towards him, desperate for more, desperate for him.

It’s only when you open your mouth in a desperate plea, a whine of his name, “Santi, Santi please,” that he begins to push into you.

Your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, just as Santi begins to talk. “Fuck, baby.” The stretch of him is delicious. “I wanted this for so long.” Now fully seated in you, he rests on his forearms, kissing you softly, first on the forehead, then on your lips. “Colour?” he asks softly.

You nearly cry from how sweet it is, how sweet he is, before responding, a mumble against his lips. “Green.” You feel full, like this is how you’re supposed to feel all the time, this is your base state, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life trying to achieve this specific feeling.

“Good girl,” Santi murmurs and you keen at the praise, feeling insatiable, wanting more, clenching around him. He grins, registering your response. “You liked that? You like being told what a good job you’re doing, how good you feel around me..” he breaks off with a gasp, and your eyes close as Santi begins to move in time with his words, long, slow thrusts as he begins to put you together again, building you up, further and further, his thrusts speeding up gradually, the sound of his dick sliding into your wetness, and the slap of skin-on-skin loud in his room, mixing with your moans.

You lift your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, hooking one of your feet around Santi’s butt. They don’t stay there for long, one of Santi’s arms pushing one leg up your body, hand under your knee as he splits you open. The new angle hits something deeper in you, and you gasp, unable to move and at the mercy of Santiago.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, coming out of nowhere, your lower body suddenly clenching around Santi, arms straining against the handcuffs, as you try in vain to touch him. You tumble through it, muscles spasming as you fall under him. He keeps moving into you as you shudder below him, pulling you through with murmured praise and encouragement as another broken cry leaves your throat.

His thrusts start to get sloppier as he goes faster, losing his rhythm slightly and you can tell he’s near his end. As best you can, you start moving your own hips, grinding up to meet him, words of encouragement slipping past your lips. “Santi, you feel so good, are you gonna fill me up?” You coo, pouting a little, tugging your wrists a little for emphasis. “Please Santi, I want to feel you, come in me, please-”

You stop when Santi snaps his hips once more, with a groan of finality and you can feel his cum inside of you as he holds himself there, his cock pulsing within you. He presses a couple more gentle kisses to your neck before sliding out, and you hiss slightly at the pull on your sensitive folds of your pussy.

He leaves for a second, returning with a key and gently releasing your wrists. “Good girl,” he murmurs, massaging your skin. “You did so good for me.”

He helps you sit up, kissing your cheek before leaving again. This time when he returns, he has a wet rag, and a glass of water, which you take a sip from, not having realised how thirsty you were. He gently dabs the rag on the inside of your thighs first, and the two of you watch in slightly morbid fascination as Santi’s cum leaks out of you onto the rag.

“That’s kinda hot,” you comment idly, wondering if Santi fucked all sense of you.

He only laughs, wiping the mess away and cuddling up next to you. “Do you want me to do it again?” he asks as you lean into his arms, his hands wrapping around your wrists to rub circles into your skin.

“Yes,” you answer, probably too quickly but beyond caring.

“Good.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Santi wants to ask you something, so you twist in his arms, kissing along his shoulder. The act feels small, and innocent somehow, despite your states of undress, as you try to reassure him.

“You were right,” you murmur near his ear, “Stranger was where I was going wrong.”

It takes him a second to piece your reference together, but then he grins, and it’s like he hung the sun in the sky. “Yeah? I took care of you?”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, biting back your own identical grin. “Yeah.”

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Tags: @fantasticcopeaglepasta

#Santiago x reader #Santiago Garcia x reader #Santiago pope x reader #Santiago pope Garcia x reader #pope x reader #Santiago Garcia #Santiago pope #Santiago pope Garcia #triple frontier #fanfic

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binniedeactivated · 3 years

Note

hi binnie i wanted to request a fem!reader x dom!yeonjun when she comes home late at night smelling like someone else’s cologne and he punishes her. (sorry this is very descriptive aha im no good at english ) :3

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐝𝐨𝐦!𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 | 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐬

𝐖/𝐂 | 2.5k

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐱

“hyung, go to sleep”. soobin encourages over the video monitor.

“no we need to finish these lyrics”. yeonjun refuses. he was currently working from home in his home studio. it was more urgent to him than anyone else probably because of the real studio time he’s missed due to paternity leave.

“hyung we can finish them tomorrow alright?”. soobin assures softly. he hated seeing the older stressing himself out. “how’s jayce? has he been sleeping okay?”. soobin asks.

yeonjun huffs and combs his hair back with his fingers in stress. he hasn’t been getting the sleep he wanted due to the six month old infant. especially since your boss needed you urgently, cutting your maternity leave and giving you later hours than usual. hence the reason why yeonjun has been practically banging his head over work. he palms his forehead in the video camera. soobin could see the weariness in his eyes.

“yeah I guess. I just put him down an hour ago. I hope he stays asleep”.

“good. you should use this time to get some sleep hyung”.

yeonjun huffs again, parting his lips to say something else before he heard the front door open and close softly. it was you trying to hurry and sneak in. maybe change your clothes and shower before yeonjun could suspect anything.

“fine I guess. I’ll get some sleep”.

“good. I’ll talk to you tomorrow hyung”.

“bye soobin”.

he waves before ending the call. he checks his watch. it was almost an hour later than when you normally came home. “babe is that you?”. he spoke.

you swiftly took your jacket off hanging it on the coat rack. you cursed under breath hating the fact that he even heard you arrive. “yes babe”. you call out from near the door.

“you know you’re like an hour late coming home. jayce was a handful today”.

you slip off your shoes. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m here now”. you tried to sound as sincere as possible. almost as if you weren’t fucking one of your best friends an hour prior.

yeonjun turns off his monitors and shuts off the equipment in his studio. he decided to check on the baby one last time before entering your shared bedroom. thank god he was still asleep.

“I’m not trying to be an asshole but baby I really need you here. why is your boss keeping you so late?”. yeonjun questions while you were digging into your closet. you were kind of glad he couldn’t see the guilty look on your face. but he definitely smelled the cologne each time you moved.

“I’m sorry it’s been really hectic at the company. I’ll talk to her to see if we can make some arrangements. why are you so upset junnie?”. you soft talked, hoping to butter him up. he sighs at the nickname, sneaking behind you to wrap his arms around your waist to smell you again on purpose.

you reeked of versace cologne. and yeonjun knew he never wore that kind.

“I’m not upset baby. I just miss you and jayce is always eating and crying”.

his lips sit at the coast of your collarbone. he peppers fluttering kisses until he reaches your neck. you breathed.

“isn’t that what you do too? eat and whine about things?” you accuse. yeonjun chuckles. “yes maybe”.

you wanted to shrug yeonjun off because honestly words couldn’t explain how fucked out you were. but you didn’t want him to think anything was up so you let his lips continue up your neck and finally to your jawline.

yeonjun could hear your breathing pattern shift due to his lips. but more than anything he saw how much you were trying to act like you wanted him, but really you wanted to tell him not tonight. that you didn’t feel like having sex because you already got your fix from someone else. and yeonjun knew it.

he pushes his bulge against your backside inching his lips to the corner of yours. you could feel him harden. “baby”. he hums. “baby please have sex with me”.

your heart raced at his words. you’ve never heard yeonjun beg in need before. you didn’t know how you were going to find the energy to oblige to his request. but he grips your waist tighter and you knew there was no letting go. he traces the outline of your breasts with his fingers, keeping note of the fact that your bra wasn’t on.

‘stupid’, yeonjun wanted to say. he knows you left the house with one on. yeonjun was furious.

“please? don’t you miss me?”. he whines again, sneaking a kiss to your lips. he glares into your eyes after he pulls away and you nod your head in counterfeit desperation. he grins into another kiss while his hand searched for the back of your thighs. while hoisting you up the both of you exchange sloppy kisses until you were being laid back onto the sheets.

he allows his tongue to roam your mouth once more before he pulls away with admiration glimmering in his eyes.

“I love you”.

you swallowed, the sheer happiness that overwhelmed him was enough to make you feel guilty about what you done. nevertheless you pout your lips and rub his cheek. “aw junnie. I love you too”.

he smiles and leans down to layer an abundance of kisses over your lips again. he pins your wrists down gradually with his hands. “I know I haven’t been the best husband lately”. he complains in between kisses. “but I’ve been so tired and moody with the baby and you haven’t been here”. he raises your dress and pushes his bulge against the wetness of your panties.

you pant feeling your breathing becoming shaky. “I’m sorry junnie. you’ve been the perfect husband okay? I don’t know what I was thinking working-- l-late like that”.

he tongue kisses your neck sliding your panties down your thighs in one quick movement. “you’re so pretty. I’ve been missing you”. slowly but surely he clutches your thighs and rocks down into your warmth. you wrap your arms around his neck with your gaspy moans driving straight into his ear. your eyes roll up to the ceiling.

“godd---go a little softer junnie please”. you plead. and he follows your command slowly swaying his hips into you with care. he kisses your cheeks. “is this better baby?”. he pants into the small space between the both of your lips, satisfied with the way he was sheathed in your warmth. it felt so good and he hasn’t had it in so long.

“yes it’s perfect”. you mumble, grinding your hips against him at the same speed. it felt amazing. sex was always amazing with yeonjun. he leans down and plants another kiss on your lips. “so needy? what’s making my baby so needy? you missed me that much?”.

between your muffled cries you nodded. he was stretching you each time he inched deeper. he knew how much you loved him buried inside of you. enough to forget where you end and where he begins. “god yeonjun”. you whine against his neck. “i’ve missed you so much”. you whimper back. you felt so ashamed. you knew no one could ever fuck you like yeonjun could.

“I don’t want you to ever miss me baby. I want to always be here to love you and give what you want when you want it”.

you hold him against you, melting each time he bucks into you and feeling guilt eat you alive each time he spoke. “I’d love that so much”. you reply hazily glaring up into his eyes.

“and I love you-”. he cut himself off with a hard thrust jolting your body upwards. you gasp. he chuckles into your neck. “fuck--i hope you don’t think I’m a pervert. asking for sex as soon as you walk in the door”.

“mmmh no junnie-- you’re just as needy as I am”.

with his head buried into your neck he fucks into you a bit faster, groaning at the way you felt wrapped around his length. he got his desired effect though. you with parted lips clawing at his back. each time he rocked into you he heard you choke on your own moans and that’s exactly what he wanted. it turned him on.

“junnie I’m going to cum if you keep going like this---that’s why I want you to g-go slower”.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long I can’t control myself”. he tries his best to go at a slower pace but each time he tried he went back to the same pace he started with. you’re not far behind your orgasm and yeonjun knew just by the stutter in your hips.

“tell me when you’re about to cum baby”. he breathes.

“I’m a-about to ccum right now”. you were nearly shaking beneath him. and just as you felt like you were about release yeonjun stops his movements completely. you sank into confusion until you felt him roughly create a makeshift ponytail out of your hair and pin it against the bed above your head so you couldn’t move.

his facial expression immediately changed. instead he looked angry. his eyes were scary glaring down into yours.

“did you really think I’d let you cum you fucking cheater?”.

you glanced up at him with horror. “junnie--”.

“don’t fucking soft talk me“.

you crumbled at his tone of voice. he started pounding into you whilst biting his lips. you whimper in his hands.

“whose cologne is that hm?”.

if you weren’t choking to death on your moans before you were definitely were choking on them now. he was making you feel so good you could barely think of anything else while he was fucking you like this. you felt your orgasm build back up quickly.

“w-what cologne?”. he thrusts rough and sharp and stops just after he felt your hips stutter. you whine in desperation to cum just once. it felt like a punch in the gut.

“don’t play stupid. whose cologne are you wearing?”.

“it’s yyours”. you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide at the way he practically growled at you. he lowers his lips allowing them to overshadow yours.

“that’s not my fucking cologne and you know that. I don’t wear versace cologne. so how about you tell me who does?”.

and right there, he was filling you again. pushing his length into your depth just how you liked it, knowing it drove you insane. knowing it was just enough to make you want to cum again. his strokes were painfully slow, making your body wallow in a feeling of pleasure and anxiousness. he bites his lips again.

“I think I like you like this. not being able to cum. you feel better around me”.

he’s groaning and you felt heat sit in your cheeks. your hips bucked up with need and he’s snapping his hips into you until he felt you stutter again. you pant heavily, grasping his shirt.

“yyeonjun please--pplease don’t stop I need to cum!”.

“tell me who wears versace cologne”. he snarls. in absolute desperation you answer, “a cclose friend of mine!”.

and just as you were about to finally cum his hips come to a halt once more. you felt tears cascade down your cheeks. he chuckles in the midst of your pain.

“and you weren’t even smart enough to put your bra on before coming home to me. you’re pathetic as fuck. do you know that?”. he rocks his hips down again with brutal thrusts.

“jjunnie I’m sorry! it’s just I’ve been feeling so unsatisfied lately“.

yeonjun casts his eyes down on you with no remorse. he cared nothing about your explanation or your tears. you whimpered against his chest.

“how long have you been doing this? don’t lie to me”.

your needy cries were muffled into the material of his shirt. you decided to reply honestly. “s-since jayce was three months”. you sniffle. “please let me cum yeonjun”.

for an affair that he thought was only just a few weeks ended up being months. yeonjun couldn’t believe you. he couldn’t believe you’d intentionally sabotage the family that the both of you started together. he knows he was stressed and moody lately but it was because he was taking care of jayce by himself. and you were no where to be found. tears rimmed his eyes.

his hips stop and he cums good and hard just how he hoped. except you didn’t. you were a tear stained mess beneath him shaking and crying. yet he didn’t care. he leaned off of you and started zipping up his pants. and almost as if he could sense that his father was near, jayce began to softly cry in the next room over.

yeonjun glares down at you in pure disgust.

“I want you to pack your stuff and get out of my house”.

#yeonjun #choi yeonjun smut #tomorrow by together #txt smut #bugsbinnie #choi yeonjun

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g0dspeeed · 3 years

Text

Liar, Liar

For @constantzeigarnik

"V unabashedly flirting with Viktor, just laying it on real thick for the ripperdoc, and Viktor just not being prepared for it in the slightest."

“Liar, liar.”

The words came out in a tired sigh with a voice that hopefully sounded as indifferent as V intended.

The pair was laid out on the hood of Panam’s latest wheels, eyes closed, and cold drinks in hand. After helping the Aldecaldo get the ride from a locked storage yard, V had offered to relax beneath the shade of a highway overpass while they waited for the client to arrive. Panam accepted without a second thought. Between the two of them, a break from daily survival in Night City seemed in order.

Supposed to be chill.

Just two friends sippin’ on a dry afternoon.

No worries.

No stress for an hour.

That was before their present conversation, one that V was trying desperately to avoid.

“Yeah, I’m the liar here,” returned Panam. “And Night City is family friendly. At least I’m not the one in denial that my ripperdoc has the hots for me.”

V turned to shoot her friend a dark look. The nomad smirked as the warning fell flat. Despite V’s best efforts, Panam could see right through her: She was absolutely fuckin’ right.

“Think ya’ got it all wrong,” V maintained in a cool tone.

“Oh, do I?”

V cringed.

“Only met the guy one time,” Panam said. “Felt like a third wheel between the two of you eye-fuckin’ each other. Almost walked outta there see what that psychic girl was sellin’.”

A new warmth began stinging V’s cheeks and Panam frowned at her friend’s lack of response.

This was new territory. Seeing V react this way was beyond strange. One of the most capable people Panam had ever met was turning red over a man. Borderline bizarre. Truly, the entire conversation was out of the norm.

“Shit,” muttered Panam. At her best efforts at being soft, she added, “Don’t feel bad, V. The guy’s stacked like a fucking truck.”

At that, V finally let her guard down. She grinned as Panam gently shoved her shoulder.

“There she is. Just let that denial fade away-”

“Fuck off.”

“What the hell are you afraid of?” asked Panam. “Rejection?”

V looked at her energy drink, swiveling the liquid around before relenting.

“I mean, yeah, kinda.”

An eye roll and a heavy groan came from the woman beside her.

“Yeah okay,” said Panam. “Like he’d reject a woman half his age, much less a badass like you. V, I saw it for myself. The guy thinks you’re hot. Caught ‘im lookin’ at your ass. Not only that, he cares, like genuinely cares about you, which says a lot for people like us. Next time you see him, just lay it on thick and be done.”

V scrunched her eyes shut at her friend’s advice. Just talking about openly pursuing Viktor Vector made V’s stomach twist into knots. As much as she was the badass that Panam knew her to be, for V to explore an actual romantic relationship outside of ‘eye-fucking’ and the occasional one-night stand with some rando from Afterlife was not something V was familiar with. Her days were chaotic. Her lifestyle was that of constant motion. Viktor, in all his edginess, was stable, consistent, and secure. Also, she enjoyed the subtly they shared, the skirting around the topic of their flirty friendship, or whatever it was, from the safety of fleeting looks, suggestive undertones, and the occasional wink.

Then again, if V were honest with herself, it never seemed to be enough. V couldn’t deny that each time she left his clinic she wanted more. Craved more. More time, more privacy, more touch. She was her own worst enemy in all of those categories, always the first to shy away, to change the subject, to wander off.

“Worst case scenario,” breathed Panam. “He’s not interested in dating someone younger. Or just wants to be friends. That’s fine. Whatever. Should that happen, you delta outta there, lay low for a few weeks, find a new doc, and move on.”

“I can’t just delta out of his life,” groaned V. “He’s been my ripperdoc since I came to Night City. He’s also one of my closest friends-”

“Ok, then suffer. Fuck! Just do something. You’re killing me with this in between bullshit.”

Hours later, their conversation from under the overpass played on repeat inside V’s head. Panam cannot sugar coat anything. She might be physically incapable of doing that. Her words came straight from the heart and that’s what made what she had to say so sincere.

That is at least what V was telling herself as she steadily made her way down the steps to Viktor’s clinic, hands clammy, and body keyed up.

Part of her hoped that he was out or tied up with a patient. Maybe he would tell her to come by later.

She scoffed.

What a stupid thought. She was too quick to forget how often he invited her to stick around if he were operating, how she would wait at his workbench or nap on his crusty couch in the back. Sure enough, she could hear the man whistling below, the cheery sound echoing to where she hesitated. She swallowed.

With a final deep breath, V summoned up the bravery to walk through the metal gate.

Hunched over his operating chair, Viktor appeared to be wiping down between appointments, his rich voice humming along to some song in his head. V watched for a moment, taking in the serene sight before approaching the ripperdoc.

“Surprised you’re not watching a match,” she said.

The humming stopped. His head cocked at hearing her voice.

Without turning he responded, “Aren’t any on right now or you know I would be.”

The rag was tossed down and Viktor shifted to look at her.

V’s stomach flipped. His blue button-up was stained with a dark, oily substance all over the front. The top buttons were either missing or dangling from bits of string, leaving the shirt partly undone and exposing his undershirt. V’s eyebrows furrowed as she noticed a small crack that cut in the corner of his glasses just above a small nick on his cheekbone.

“You look-”

“Like shit?” he finished with a grin.

Viktor crossed his arms, drawing V’s attention to his thick biceps in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Bet so,” he continued. “Someone brought in his friend after a run in with the Tyger Claws, all blood clots and broke teeth. The gonk was scared out of his goddamn mind. Took a toll just to sedate ‘im.”

His smile had turned into a smirk, something confident and full of swagger as he told his story. He wore it well, mastering the balance found only in seasoned residents of Night City, of those who earned their street cred by way of blood, grit, and never backing down. V’s lips pursed at how his eyes looked to hers past those dark lenses.

Here would be the part where V ran away, ran from opportunity, from her feelings. He dared to look at her the way he did in that moment, so smooth, so confident. The man had to know. Viktor had to recognize how he affected her, had to notice how her eyes appreciated his physique, how her complexion warmed when he touched her. His frame had turned to face hers, all broad shoulders and aftershave.

She could step back.

Look away.

This was where she could coolly suppress her attraction and change the subject.

But not today.

“Here,” she said warmly.

V stepped close to the ripperdoc, shrinking the gap between their bodies as her fingers gently plucked the man’s glasses from his face. Viktor blinked in surprise and swallowed as she studied the damaged lens with a critical eye, her own smirk pulling at her full lips.

“Gonna need new ones, doc,” she told him.

Next, V carefully folded the glasses and slid them onto the collar of her top. Viktor’s eyes tracked her movements before quickly glancing away. Ever the gentleman.

“But don’t worry,” continued V. “The rest of you I can remedy.”

He chuckled.

“The rest of me?”

V looked up. She nearly gasped. For Viktor to wear those damn shaded glasses was a sin. The bluest blue that V had ever seen, his eyes were deep like ocean water. There was longing in them. Desire. He adored V for standing so close and showing such concern for his wellbeing. Christ, she could get lost in those eyes if he kept looking at her like that.

To answer his question, V tugged at the hem of his soiled shirt. He stiffened.

“Are you tryin’ to say that you like being covered in… whatever this is?” she mused.

“Well, no-”

In a near whisper, V begged, “Then come on, Vik. Let me play doctor for once.”

Fuck.

The way she was looking up at him with that smile, those bedroom eyes, leaning close like that with her fingers tugging on his shirt and talkin’ in that sweet, sexy voice.

Who was Viktor to deny her?

He sighed out a ‘Fine’ and nodded in agreement. Consent confirmed, V went to work. V’s fingers moved to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt, but Viktor stopped her hands. His own hands were warm, a little rough with scars and callouses on the tips and knuckles. In response to V’s questioning look, Viktor grabbed his shirt and ripped the buttons loose with a jerk. They pattered at their feet.

“Trash,” he stated as he slid his arms free from his shirt. Like the buttons, it went airborne and landed in a nearby biohazard bin.

“Hey now,” warned V with mock annoyance. “I said let me play doctor.”

“Oh am I being a bad patient?” returned Viktor.

To his surprise, V placed her palm at the center of his chest. Her fingers flexed gently against his undershirt, making Viktor’s heart race. She then gave a gentle shove.

“The worst,” she teased as Viktor let her push him back into his own operating chair.

Even if he wanted to, there was no way that Viktor could hide his smile. He was at a loss. What in the world had gotten into V? Not that he was complaining of course, but he was so used to waiting. The flirting, the winks, all those playful innuendos had been going on for such a long time. By now, Viktor simply accepted that she wouldn’t push it further, that their friendship or whatever they had, consisted of only those teasing moments. Nothing more. In the end he believed that V didn’t want anything deeper with the ripperdoc. And that was fine. A bummer, but fine. Didn’t feel bad about it. Didn’t resent her. She was younger, a wild one who made a hobby out of recklessly injuring herself doing God knows what in the city. The man wasn’t new to women or intimacy, and with a woman like V he thought it best to let her set the terms, especially considering that she was after all his patient. A patient who ate his food, slept on his couch, completely ignored his work schedule, and called him ‘pretty boy’ on the regular. A patient no less.

So imagine how fast his heart was racing as her fingers softly cupped his cheek, at how her body leaned in close as she inspected the small cut beneath his eye. Viktor tried his hardest to look off into nothingness rather than at her breasts. Tried to ignore how delicious she smelled. Was she wearing perfume-

“Breathe, Vik,” she mumbled. “Can’t have my first patient black out on me.”

She fucking winked and that goddamn smirk of hers graced her lips.

“I, uh,” he began. He laughed, a bit too nervously for his liking. “I’m sorry, just, just distracted. It doesn’t hurt that much, ya know.”

“How’d he get ya?” asked V.

To Viktor’s disappointment, V stepped away from the chair and walked towards his workbench. He didn’t miss how her hips swayed or how she bent over to grab his medical kit in a nearly exaggerated manner. The way she looked into his eyes while she straightened, all slow and sensual with those curves of hers, went immediately to his dick. He swallowed.

“Um,” he said stupidly. “He, uh, headbutted me. With his head.”

“Ouch,” she replied.

Before she returned to the flustered ripperdoc, V shimmied out of her bomber jacket and tossed it on his workbench. A tattered crop top pulled against her skin as she shook out her dark hair.

Viktor had the decency to rest his hands in his lap to shield the effect that the merc had on him.

Her tongue wet her lips as she fished through the kit for what she wanted. The glance she shot in his direction proved that there was no innocence in the act.

What the fuck was happening?

That question repeated itself over and over again in his mind as she again bent closely towards his body to apply a Q-tip to the wound, offering another delicious view of her ample breasts.

“Can I get some feedback, doc?” she asked quietly.

Viktor swallowed, his mouth dry like sand.

“Yeah, kid,” he replied lowly.

V paused her work to truly look at him, to gaze into those gorgeous eyes of his. Then, all calm and collected, V perched herself next to him at the edge of the operating chair. Viktor allowed her some room as she cupped his cheek with her other hand, her breasts resting on his torso as she leaned into him. Her thumb ghosted his skin, tempting. Teasing. Viktor ignored the urge to press against the throbbing hardness in his pants. The cut long forgotten, his attention was caught up in V’s eyes, the warmth of her skin, her smell, the sultriness of her voice.

“Do you want me?”

Her mouth was so close to his. The warmth of her breath tickled his skin like static. Viktor’s eyes shut in anticipation as V slowly drew herself to his lips.

He felt nothing, but heard the soft tear of paper. Viktor’s eyes fluttered open, brow crinkling in confusion. V had sat up and was unwrapping a small bandage, her eyes fixated on the task while he gaped at her. When it was open, she reached out and carefully applied the bandage to the cut on Viktor’s cheek.

“All done,” she stated in a chipper tone, a wide smile stretched from ear to ear.

Viktor smirked.

“Oh yeah?” he questioned. “Think you’re hot shit giving this old man a heart attack?”

“Think I gave you more than that, pretty boy.”

Her eyes flickered to his lap and back to those ocean eyes. Viktor sat up in the chair, his hands not budging as if his life depended on it.

“You never answered me,” said V, the playfulness gone from her voice and replaced with a feeling that Viktor found it hard to describe.

There was no mystery, however, to how he felt in hearing it. His heart melted at her words, at how the game was finally over and that she, beautiful V, wanted to know if he wanted her. A stupid question, really, but an important one all the same.

“Ah V,” he said with a sigh.

Panic alit her eyes like fire, but it was quickly doused as Viktor took her by the hand.

“Of course I do,” Viktor replied earnestly. He gave her hand a small squeeze. “I’d be a fuckin’ liar if I didn’t.”

For whatever reason, Viktor saw V blink as if there was something odd in what he said. The moment was short and quickly forgotten as V embraced him so hard that the pair fell back in his operating chair, his arm wrapped around waist and his lips pressed into her hair.

#viktor vector #cyberpunk 2077 #im tired af #ripperdoc

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dykesbat · 3 years

Text

okok songs from my bruce playlist + reasons

first love / late spring by mitski

“and I was so young when I behaved twenty-five / Yet now I find I’ve grown into a tall child… Please hurry, leave me, I can’t breathe / Please don’t say you love me / Mune ga hachikire-sōde”

pretty self-explanatory! bruce is emotionally immature and just. yeah i feel like he oftentimes does feel the same as he did in that alleyway yknow. maybe he’s realizing the depths of how immature he is right here in the moment of recognizing that the person he finds himself loving right now is also someone he could potentially lose. i think of bruce as someone who loves a lot. maybe here he’s acknowledging how the price of loving is the possibility of pain.

everybody lost somebody by bleachers

THIS ENTIRE SONG BROOOOOOO

“It’s this dream I keep having where I’m begging / Just to give myself a break / But there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to wake up and remember it / I wanna wake up and remember”

Bruce being an avid dreamer is a pretty popular concept n idk I think the concept of his dreams diverging from the nightmares of his loss to a dream of him acknowledging that he’s mourning and wanting the world to stop or like. him having a nightmare where the only coherent words he remembers after waking up is just his internal “i’m so tired” but maybe its survivors guilt maybe its just the desperation to hold on to whatever he can of the people that he lost maybe he's just trying to hold on to all the good and the good memories are just. so intertwined with the pain of loss. but he doesn’t want to let go of it

“I think pain is waiting alone at the corner / Tryna get myself back home, yeah / Looking like everybody / Knowing everybody lost somebody... A reason I see myself in a million faces / A reason I can't stop it all from changing / So come on, motherf*^&r, you survive”

i think these lines can be used to represent him turning his pain into his efforts for making gotham better. basically just. redirecting the love into the city and the people rather than only mourning. obv it would be his entire mission after his parent’s deaths. and for canon continuity reasons—since it's a bit more hopeful maybe it's after jason’s death and after tim comes around? idk i imagine bruce remembering his parents and remember jason around the manor hallways and on the city rooftops. the whole “trying to get myself back home” can be like home = the person lost or just. literally bruce trying to put in the effort to dragging himself back home for (himself? tim? alfred? hmm.) n the other lines are just. him seeing himself in gotham and seeing worth in human life. it connects to his compassion and his no-kill-rule and his empathy and his taking in of his children. and like yeah he can’t stop it all from changing he can't prevent every death but he’ll try to. the survive line is also pretty self-explanatory.

garden song by phoebe bridges

“I don't know when you got taller / See our reflection in the water / Off a bridge at the Huntington / I hopped the fence when I was seventeen / Then I knew what I wanted”

ok so I'm thinking. him talking abt dick in the first few lines. probably after reconciling with him after they've been enstranged for so long and he’s feeling regretful for the mistakes he made there while thinking of their past times together. maybe he took younger dick to a place he went to when he solidified his plan to train abroad?

“And it’s gonna be just like my recurring dream / I’m at the movies, I don’t remember what I’m seeing / The screen turns into a tidal wave”

do I have to explain.. avid dreamer bruce,, the movies,, the dream ending terribly,, gn!

“I don’t know how, but I’m taller / It must be something in the water / Everything’s growing in our garden / You don’t have to know that it’s haunted”

idk how to explain it? but just. bruce growing up in a manor that suddenly feels larger than it ever did before. n it feels like he took his parents ghosts w him and left whatever his childhood was back in that alley. and part of him can pick out what he felt on that day. and so much changed and he’s grown? he’s grown older than his father ever was? and he doesn’t know how that's possible?

class of 2013 by mitski

“Mom, can you wash my back / This once, and then we can forget / And I’ll leave what im chasing / For the other girls to pursue…. Mom am I still young / Can I dream for a few months more”

ok no he is not financially struggling n i will b honest this is a self-indulgent song to maximize relatability <3 but my decision to put this song was also based on the idea of him just. missing him mom so muchhhh?? maybe a dream? maybe the aftermath of fear gas? who knows but here the “forget” will just be for his parent's deaths. I imagine this to be somewhat akin to the mask of phantasm monologue he has at his parents grave. (spoilers for that: he’s basically asking his parents for forgiveness for potentially abandoning his oath of bettering Gotham as Batman). last line makes me #$%^&*( just. hnnnnnnn imagine him waking up blurry eyed and brain fogged and he’s just grasping onto the false belief of his parents still being there n clinging on to the comfort of his pre-crime alley childhood before he truly wakes up.

sick of losing soulmates by dodie

okok this is on my bruce + romance playlist too bc it reminded me of batcat and bruharvey. it can also be interpreted as his fam ig? but I feel like that doesn’t apply for most of the song.

“God knows what I would be if you hadn’t found me / Sitting all alone in the dark… What the hell would I be without you / Brave face talk so lightly, hide the truth… Cause I’m sick of losing soulmates / So where do we begin / I can finally see you’re as f$:$:&ed up as me / So how do we win”

I just think. that. Bruce would have abandonment issues. first four lines can be taken for all three (batcat, bruharv, the family) interpretations. the truth being hidden doubling both as his identity as Batman and just. the fact that he loves them lol (batcat, bruharv). last three lines lean towards bc and bh but personally they reminded me more of bat cat (probably bc ppl always say they’re so similar). basically I feel like this song could signify their fears of losing each other in whatever way that means (romantically, platonically, death) bc they both care for each other so much and impact each other so muchhsuagdj but at the same time it feels like its bound to end badly. (ofc it doesn't. whether or not they like. break up from a romance or have a falling out between friends i’d like to think some time after they heal they become reconnect n their relationship w each other is stronger and so alike what it was before but different bc its just. so much healthier this time. and to copy and paste from my thoughts on my other playlist: bruce crashes at selinas house sometimes and she makes the him catsit for her bc she thinks it’s funny when he complains abt her cats and calls them mean names and then gets a picture of bruce knocked out cuddling them like 30 m later courtesy alfred)

#ok to rb but idk how coherent this is 😭😭#bruce #dc comics #hi i made this playlist a while back and wanted to spill some Thoughts abt it #it has like 25 songs though so im not gonna go through them all esp since a bunch are just. self indulgent jsalkhd.#literally so many lines from these songs could apply to the version of him i think of n i am losing itttt #long post #mutuals feel free to ask for the playlistttt

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zmayadw · 3 years

Text

Hello, hello!

Time to continue. I’ll post 2 parts again, so lets begin..

First one :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 11

Jessy came to Aurora shortly after, finding Phil and me sitting in the booth laughing and chatting. „You two are awfully cheerful.“ She said nearing us. „Hey Jessy“ i chimed back cheerfully „Well, Phil is a good company, how not to be cheerful.“ Phil grinned at her, wich made her look both of us skeptical „Yeah, yeah, if you say so.“ „Aww, sys, dont be so cruel.“ He teased her. She made a face at him, turning to me „You ready? Im starving!“ „Ready“ i told her, taking my stuff and getting up. „Cya, Phil, thanks for everything.“ I said, smiling at him. „No worries, Maya, glad we talked. Dont be a stranger.“ He said, winking at me as he got up and went towards the bar. „What was that all about?“ Jessy asked as we left the Aurora. „Oh, nothing really.“ I replied, wich made her look at me with doubt. I quickly tried to change the subject „So, where are you taking me for lunch?“ i asked, grabing her under her arm. „I tought some junk food is what we need after last nigh, hamburgers and fries might be a good choice.“ She grined. „I totally agree.“ We walked to the hamburger place, wich wasnt far from Aurora. We sat at one of the tables, and ordered some food. As we waited for it, she told me how Dan managed to wake up just before she left, begging her to drive his car back, and bring him some food. „He can really drive me crazy sometimes!“ she told me. „Aww, c'mon, thats why you like him.“ I teased, and she laughed. Our food arrived, and we started eating. After a while, i finaly told her, between my bites „I saw Jake last night.“ Jessy almost spat her drink. „What?“ she almost screamed „What? Where? Talk!“ I told her all about it, from the hoodie part, to where i left him standing. When i was done i added desperately „I messed up everything again, Jessy. I didnt hear him out, i was just so tired and frustrated.“ I sighed tiredly „Why is it always so hard with him?“ i paused before i said, sadness creeping in my voice „I just dont know how much more i can go on like this.“ Jessy looked at me, sympathy and care all over her face „I know, Maya. Its hard sometimes, God only knows how much.“ She started „Im just gonna say one thing. Just be totally sure you tried everything there is to get to the bottom of things with him, to be on the clear, once and for all.“ She paused before continuing „I can see how much it pains you, and i see you really care for Jake.“ „I do, Jessy, more then you can imagine. But im tired, so tired of constant fights with him, and not getting anywhere.“ „I know. And i really hope you will resolve it soon.“ She looked at me, giving me a reasuring smile „In the mean time, you can talk to me whenever you need a shoulder to cry on.“ I smiled „Thanks, Jessy. I really appriciate it, you have no idea how much it means to me. Im really greatful to have you in my life.“ She looked at me, took my hand and squeezed it „Im here for whatever.“ We continued with our food. When we wer nearly done, she oredered some food to take for Dan, and when it was done, we payed and left. As we walked back to the Auroras parking, Jessy asked me, all serious „Maya, what's going on with you and Phil?“ I looked at her „Aghh, its complicated.“ She stoped walking, and i did the same „Dont get me wrong, its non of my business“ she started „But to be honest, i've never seen Phil act like this, towards anyone. I think he's really into you, and, well, with all thats happening with Jake..“ „Dont worry, Jessy“ i said „I actually had a long conversation with Phil about all this earlier.“ She looked surprised „He knows about Jake?“ „Not exactly. I didnt mention Jake per se, but he knows something is happening.“ I paused before continuing „I like Phil, Jessy, and he knows it. But we came to a mutual understnding about it all, so noone could get hurt in any of this mess.“ She continued walking „Aright, thats good. He is a jerk sometimes, but he's my brother, and i do wish him well.“ „I know, Jessy, and trust me, i dont want for anyone to get hurt here. I hope all will get in the clear soon.“ „I hope so too, Maya“ she said, as we came to Dans car „I really hope so, for both your sake, and the others.“ She gave me a tight hug, before entering the car, and smiled „Im here if you need me.“ „Thanks , Jessy, same here.“ She started the car, honking as she drow off , me waving her as i entered my car. Driving to the motel i tought about all that Jessy told me. I hoped she was right, and things will get clear soon. I really was torn inside. I had some decisions to make, and not an easy ones. And i was scared.

When i got back to the motel i realized i left everything in such a mess, and decided to clean it. I collected the sutff thrown all over the floor. I grabed Jakes hoodie, burrying my face again in it and taking a deep breath. Damn, i tought, i wish i could talk to him, i need to know what will be with us. If there even is a possibilty of 'us'. And all that was going on with Phil was making me confused. My phone rang then, and i quickly put the hoodie on me before answering it. I checked the caller, it showed no number.. Could it be Jake? Then again, why would he hide his number? I answered the call „Hello?“ but there wasnt any replie. I said 'hello' few more times, before whoever was on the other side ended the call. Strange,i tought, but decided to ignore it, someone probably just dialed the wrong number. I continued with cleaning, realizing i should get some laundrey done. I saw a self-service laundrey in town, i should wisit it tomorrow. When i was done, i decided to try and do some work. I sat at the table, opening my laptop, putting some music on. It always helped me while working, and this time wasnt any different. At some point, i checked my phone ,it was past midnight. Nice, i managed to finish on the project i took, without any interruption. I closed the laptop and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. As i got to bed, i thought of Jake again. I hoped we would talk soon, i meant what i said to Jessy earlier, i really didnt know how much more i can go on like this. I sighed, closed my eyes, wishing sleep comes fast.

When i woke up i felt quite rested. Even tho my mind was a complete mess, i had a good night sleep. I took a shower, brushed my teeth and got dressed. I took the laundrey, grabed the car keys and my purse and headed for town. I parked near the self-service laundry place and took the stuff from the car. Putting the laundrey to be washed, i decided to go for coffe while it wasnt finished. I left the laundrey place, and walked to the coffee shop near by. I sat at the table outside, and ordered myself a big coffee and a toasted sandwich, might as well get some breakfast since im here. I took my phone out checking for some more work and found few interesting ones. Some alone time just working might be what i need now. I checked the news feeds and mail while drinking coffe. Jessy called at some point, telling she will be going to her sister for a few days, apologizing for leaving me on my own. I told her not to be silly, that i'd be working mostly eitherway, so she felt a bit less guilty about it. She promised we'll meet as soon as she's back, wich i acceptet cheerfuly. I was done with coffee so i paid and left. I collected my laundrey, deciding to get some stuff from the store before heading back to the motel, so not to do unnecessary trips to towns center every little while working. When i was done, i got all the stuff and headed back to the motel. I putted the stuff away, and clean laundrey in the closet. I went out of the room to get some ice from the machine by the entrance to the motels office. When i got back, i poured a drink and took my phone. There was a missed call on it, and the number was hidden. Again? What the heck, i tought. Work was calling, so i dismissed it from my toughts, and focused them on working instead. I worked till late again, before deciding i had enouhg, chrasing to bed.

The next day i spent most of it working. I stopped only to eat and drink something in peace, and i took a short walk to stretch my legs a bit. I took a shower before going to bed, luling my self to sleep with some movie on the tv.

On the next morning, after i got up, i decided to quickly go to town for some fresh coffee. I drove to town, stoping at the caffee and getting myself the biggest 'coffee to go' they had, heading back to the motel. I got back to working, but was interupted by my phone ringing after a while. I checked the phone, and smiled when i saw who the caller was. „Well, if it isnt my favorite barkeep!“ i cheerfully said in my phone. „Hello gorgeous.“ Phil answered me. „Where you hiding at?“ he asked. „Oh, im at the motel. Working my ass off.“ I told him. „I'v been lazy with it lately, so it's taking its tol on me now.“ „Aww, sorry to hear that.“ He said „But, even so, you need to take a break. Bring that pretty ass of yours to Aurora tomorrow night, we'r having a party!“ he said cheerfully, and before i could even start to protest „And i'm not taking a 'no' for an answer here!“ „Aww, c'mon Phil, thats not fair.“ i started teasingly „You took all the fun out of it! I'm good at protesting!“ He laughed „I bet you are. So, see you tomorrow?“ „Ofcourse.“ I said, adding „Hey, Phil, whats the party for, by the way?“ „Oh, right, i keep forgeting you're not from around here.“ He said. „And i tought Jessy might already told you.“ „Nop, she didnt tell me anything, and since she is with your sister, we havent really spoken much these last few days.“ „Ahh, i see.“ He said „Well, in that case, it's the Aurora's opening day anniversary, and its pretty packed for that night,with drinks being cheeper. So be sure to come early, i'll save you a seat at the bar.“ „Thanks, Phil. I'll bring myself and my pretty ass then.“ I said teasingly „Thats the spirit!“ He chimed. „Alrighty“ i said. „See you tomorrow, then.“ „Cant wait.“ He said „Laters, Maya.“ That migt be fun, i tought. And if im lucky, i might finish with work by tomorrow morning, so some fun would be like a reward for it. I continued working, and was happy that i actually finished before i tought i would.I checked the time. It was almost 3 in the morning! Ohh, guess i would sleep till late again tomorrow. And i didnt mind. The work was done, i had nowhere to rush, some sleep will do me good. I crushed to bed, burrying myself under the covers, sleep coming almost instantly at me.

#duskwood fanfic #duskwood mc #duskwood phil #duskwood jessy

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letfatewritethewords · 3 years

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I process things with art. I process with written words in the hopes that one day it can be spoken without my voice shaking. This week has been one for the books.. and I decided to share. This is long, but I want to remember what I’m learning.. how I’m processing.. if you decide to read, thank you. If not, this will still be here as a reminder of my progress every year.

I always tell people that there was no reason for my name, but it’s a lie. I’m named after Samantha on BeWitched. My grandfather loved that show and suggested it when my mother couldn’t decide. I was born in early September and that makes me a Virgo. Astrology is one of my favorite things. There’s something extraordinary about the idea that we’re connected to the universe by the positioning of the stars. Sometimes it’s so vague.. but other times, it’s right on the nose and my horoscopes will make me cry. Speaking of that, I’m an empath and a 2. When I’m unhealthy, I’m a 4 and If you know what any of that means, I’d love to talk to you more about it. Winter is my favorite season. Fall is a close second. I love the snow and how muted everything is. I like the quiet, the beauty. Sometimes, the light from the sun will shimmer off a fresh coat of snow on the ground. It is absolutely blinding, but I’d still stare, and when the snow fell at night, I’d watch it under the street light across from my house and it felt like time stood still. When I was little, I would lay in the yard full of snow, alone, in my puffy suite, until my fingers and toes would go numb from the cold, listening to the silence, but the best part of those days was going back into my grandparents house and warming up with hot coco made on the stove, wrapping myself in a soft blanket and watching old movies with my grandfather. To me, the Winter is magical. My love languages are Quality Time and Acts of Service. I’m an introvert but I love people. I like to observe, I like to really understand how the mind works and Im eager to help. I thrive in controlled chaos. I like puzzles, I love music, I like crafts, I like to fix things because grandpa always taught me that nothing is to broken to fix. Nothing. No one.

This is the light. This is the part of me that I give willingly to anyone I meet. I wear it on my sleeve. It’s only the light. Until the last 2 years.. this was all I could give of myself because I’ve always been scared of the dark.

The darkest part of me lasted 8 years, my rock bottom lasted 4.5, but as a whole it’s taken up almost 12 years of my life. Sometimes I worry that all I'm ever going to be is this thing that happened to me. That this will define me for the rest of my life and I need to remind myself that I’m a person that can live separate from an event.

I went to the police station this week, I filled out more forms. I’ve filled out so many forms over the last 2 years. For an emergency restraining order this time. For Florida this time. I knew it would eventually follow me here but typhus felt too soon. The clerk called me brave. I smile and thank them every time but I never know how to respond to that. She has no idea how weak it feels and I mean.. how could she. This is the right choice, the obvious choice, the smart choice. In a different situation, it’s one of the many steps I’d be urging someone else to take. In all the chaos, all the hurt, in all the anger and sadness.. it always circles back to “I loved him”. I did. I wanted to fix him. I wanted to see him grow and heal and if I loved him hard enough for the both of us, it would’ve evened out eventually… right?

I failed.

He was always who he was, but I was young and naive and ready to fix the whole world. When I was 18 and we were free, I would’ve told you he saved me. Now that I’m in my 30’s… and he’s in prison and I’m in limbo.. I don’t know what I’d tell you. He didn’t save me, but he didn’t destroy me either. I had every opportunity to tap out and give up.. but I grew into a person I might not have been if I never met him.

Am I angry? All of the time.

Am I scared? Yes.

I see things more clearly now though. People talk about how you never know someone’s story, and that’s because we are experts at playing pretend like we have it all figured out until we’re alone and have to face truest selves. The facade is the hardest thing to give up. Some people saw through mine and there are others, who have built their own, that never will. I share posts about what I’ve learned, how I see people, how I’ve try to treat people with grace and teach children with love and patience in hopes that a little of that sinks into whoever it reaches, but I very rarely show the journey. Partly because I know the details are gruesome and that’s not for everyone, but mostly because I’m scared.

How will you see me?

What will you think?

I’m learning that I’m not this big awful thing that happened to me. I was never anyone’s property and I’m not chained to it anymore. I was very much lied to and manipulated and hurt long enough that it flipped onto me and I carried it without missing a step. I wanted to love him so much that I would heal him. Instead, he “loved” me so much it almost killed me, and he did call it love. Enough times that he re-defined it and I didn’t use that word for a very long time in any meaningful situation. He, for better or for worse, drastically changed the trajectory of my life.

But it’s ok.

I’m wounded but I’m healing. I’m lonely, but I’m learning how to slowly welcome more people in and step out of my comfort zone. If I’m being honest, I’m relearning a lot of things, including how to exist in a world where I have room to make mistakes and fail. I can say or do the wrong thing and be gently corrected for it by my people and move on … sans violence. There are no words for amount of relief I feel because of that truth.

Is it over? No.

He was sentenced to 7 years last year and every year around mid July early August there is an opportunity to apply for an appeal based on his behavior, which will always be immaculate because he is not as tough as he thinks he is. This means that if he applies and it goes to trial, I’m also notified and have to reappear, show any new evidence, and reexplain why he needs to stay there for the safety of others and myself. Telling my story once a year on a whim to a room full of strangers, always men, so they can decide my fate, as well as the fate of this “upstanding young man with a good head on his shoulders” (actual words used during my initial rape/domestic abuse trial against him), was never what I imagined finally turning him in would look like. I really never thought that after everything, his sentence wouldn’t even be as long as our relationship. The original sentence was 5 years. After he got out on a Governor Cuomo Covid related prison loophole and broke his parole almost immediately, he was sentenced to another 2 on top of that. He has 6 left. We talk about how flawed our system is, but really seeing it is a different kind of punch. Women aren’t believed. There’s a reason so many of these crimes go unreported, and why so many women die at the hands of angry men. The hoops you have to jump through are miles high and on fire, and when you and the advocate show up armed only with your truth, your tears and a little evidence from one night at a bar when he got to drunk and forgot he was in public, it’s very easy for a judge to rule on the softer side. Because, as you all know, we’d never want to ruin a wealthy mans life unless there’s cold, hard, reason to.

Seeing his face when they read out his sentence, after years of terror, was satisfying to say the least and if I hadn’t been so numb to get through the hearing, I would’ve enjoyed it more. I will never forget going to a trusted friends house after that hearing and being completely overwhelmed with all of the emotions. Relief, guilt, sadness, anger, happiness, fear.. so many I couldn’t express.. all at once because the novocain wears off and numb isn’t forever and I fell asleep with their dog after a lot of crying. I’d be lying though if I said that 18 year old in me didn’t feel a loss. I grew up with incredible grandparents that did amazing things in teaching me how to love people and be a good human, but no one can protect us from everything. I also grew up with a mother who fights demons of her own and never had the capacity to love two kids. In a situation like that, someone becomes the punching bag. I became the punching bag and desperately looked for ways out, an opportunity to run.. and I ran right into him, who accepted me with open arms for the first time in my young, very inexperienced life.. and I followed him blindly and he was my whole world. Until I was 27, I didn’t have a guide. By the grace of God I landed into a community in Florida that slowly helped me realize my worth.

So.. what now.

How do we fix what our parents and past broke?

How do you reparent yourself?

The mental health journey is proving to be my biggest struggle yet. There’s no more outside factors, it’s just me and the lies that have fed me for years and altered how I think and feel and understand the world. I can feel myself frustrating people I’ve let close to me. I feel myself getting nervous and pushing people away. Sometimes I can catch it and regroup, other times that nasty little voice is too loud and I’m exhausted. My goodness though, how cool is it to learn so much about yourself? I know I have the capacity to love that broken part of me eventually, but it’s still hard to face. Getting to learn and understand the reason behind your actions is terrifyingly amazing. I am proud of this journey. Even when I don’t always come up on top. It’s hard to see the progress while you’re in it, but laying it all out like this.. I can safely say I’m never going to be that 18 year old girl ever again. Some days this journey looks different, some days the darkness wins, because healing isn’t linear. Sometimes it’s one step forward, 2 steps back… but nothing is too broken to fix.. and I will never call that darkness home again.

#lonliness #abuse survivor #survivor #domestic violent relationships #domestic violence #processing

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barnesandrogersfanfics · 4 years

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Ocean Eyes - Part 4

I sat across from Chris at the small kitchen table in an awkward silence, picking at the label on the ketchup bottle.

"How could you keep this from me? Did you hate me that much?" Chris suddenly asked making me look up at him.

"It wasn't like that Chris, you broke my heart but i.... i never stopped loving you"

"If you loved me you would have told me!"

"I tried to tell you! My god i tried for months to contact you but you would never take my calls! I left you voicemails begging you to call me back....." i told him feeling my eyes start to tear up "i even tried to see you...." i shrugged remembering back to the day i decided to go back to the apartment i shared with him briefly "do you remember that day? I begged you to hear me out.... do you remember what you said to me?"

Chris's head dropped as he shook it, he actually looked ashamed of himself.

"You remember??"

"Yes"

"You told me i needed to stop being so desperate, that i needed to accept the fact we were over.... you told me our relationship was a mistake"

"I was an asshole i know that! But i was gonna be a dad and you kept that from me for nearly... what, 7 years??"

"Okay answer me this, would the you back then have given a shit?? Because i honestly don't think it would have changed a god damn thing because you were a selfish prick!" I whisper yelled at him so Mason wouldn't hear "you say you've changed now and that your not that guy anymore and i pray to god thats true, but....."

"I swear to god i've changed Y/N, i grew up. I realised that the fame didn't mean as much to me as my family"

"Good for you"

"You dont believe a word im saying do you?" He shook his head "i know that look you can't lie to me" he mumbled rubbing his hands over his face.

"Its not that i dont believe youve changed Chris, its that even then you never once reached out to me. Even before i was your wife, as brief as it was.... i was your best friend. It was so easy for you to cut me out of your life"

"I missed you everyday Y/N.... i just, i couldn't face you after what i did"

"Until you needed those divorce papers signed huh? Then you faced me".

Chris just looked down avoiding eye contact, he didn't know what to say.

"Look, if you wanna get to know Mason i won't try and stop you" i said quickly before i lost my nerve.

"Of course i do!"

"if you do this you need to be in 100%, i wont have you breaking his heart when you get bored of playing daddy. Because i swear to god Chris, if you hurt my son i will fucking kill you"

"I promise, i'm in 110%"

"Okay....." i nodded taking a deep breath "we've got pizza coming, did you wanna stay for dinner.... meet your son?"

"Id love that" he smiled wiping a tear quickly from his face "did you ever tell him about me? I mean does he know who i am at all?"

"His seen old photo's of you before your Captain America days, knows your name... thats it"

"Where does he think i've been? He must have asked where i was?"

"Its only been the last year his really asked about it, when he started preschool and the other kids had dads picking them up..... guess he wanted to know why he didn't have one. I told him he did have one but you were away working"

"He must hate me"

"Chris his 5 and a half he doesn't know how to hate".

We were all sat around the coffee table in the living room, the two pizza boxes spread out between us. I had just finished explaining to Mason that Chris was the same man in the photo he had in his bedroom, that Chris was his dad. Mason stared at Chris for a while before taking a bite of his pizza.

"You look funny...." Mason casually said and i nearly choked on my mouthful of pizza.

"I guess i do look a little different" Chris smiled at him "what photo do you have?"

"I'll go get it!" He jumped up and run upstairs excitedly.

"Its just a photo of us when we were younger" i said casually looking at my slice of pizza like it was the most fascinating thing in the world "it was the only one i had...."

"What do you mean? You had loads of photos...."

"I did until i burnt them all"

"You burnt them?!" He asked wide eyed.

"I was mad at you" i shrugged "i didn't want to look at them anymore".

I was so full of shit, i had kept them all, stored away in the back of my closet where i tried to forget them. The only reason i gave Mason the older photo was because it was from a time when Chris and I were happy, before he left me.

Mason came running back in and gave Chris the photo, a smile spread across his face when he saw it was a photo of us taken at Disney on one of our trips to Florida.

"God i remember this day, it was a good day" he looked up and smiled.

"It was " i nodded wiping off my hands before getting up and going to the kitchen, i needed some space. As much as i tried to convince myself that i hated Chris, part of me couldn't help but love him and being in the same room with him after all this time was tough. I was getting a glass of water when i heard Mason ask Chris a question that broke me.

"Dad? Can you read me a story before bed? Mama always reads to me but you never have"

"Sure bud, if thats okay with your mom?" I heard him reply happily.

I couldn't help but cry silently.... my hand over my mouth to muffle any sound, i just couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Mom?" Mason was suddenly standing behind me "can dad stay to read me a story?"

I quickly wiped my eyes and turned to face him with a forced smile.

"Sure baby"

"Yes!" He shouted happily running back out "she said yes!".

I stood outside Mason's room listening to Chris read 'If You Give A Dog A Donut', Mason giggling along and making little comments here and there which would then make Chris laugh before carrying on. After a couple of minutes i left them to it and went downstairs to tidy up.

10 minutes or so passed before Chris reappeared, it felt awkward between us again now Mason wasn't here.

"Thank you for letting me do that Y/N"

"Mason wanted you to read to him, i find it hard to say no to that kid" i shrugged.

"I bet. His a great kid, you've done a good job with him"

"Thank you"

"I can't believe i've missed so much of his life..... you have no idea how much i hate myself"

Probably not as much as i've hated you! I said to myself but at the same time deciding there was something i could give him.

"Wait here a minute, i need to go get something" i mumbled passing him and going up to my room. I went to my closet and dug around in the back until i found the black leather storage box i was looking for.

When i got back downstairs i handed the box to Chris who looked confused.

"Its a thing i used to do when i found out i was pregnant, letters, photos and stuff" i said feeling my cheeks burn from embarrassment of how stupid i had been....I just couldn't really let him go.

"Its only stuff from during the pregnancy and maybe the first 1/2 years but you might wanna see" i shrugged folding my arms to stop them shaking.

"Thank you Y/N....."

"Sure, well its getting late you should probably be going...."

"Of course" he nodded quickly "can i give you a hug?...."

"No. We're not at the hugging stage Chris"

"Okay" he said sadly as we made our way to the front door "when can i see Mason again?"

"Whenever you want i just need a heads up"

"Tomorrow?"

"Sure"

"Why don't you see if Scott wants to come too?? I need to talk to that brother of yours"

"Don't be mad at him, he didn't tell me Mason was my son... just that you had a kid"

"Your telling me he wasn't the one to tell you to come see me again??"

He was silent and looking around nervously.... Scott told him to come see me!

"You forget i know you two too well"

"I wanted to see you again i did, i just.... i was being a fucking chicken shit. I knew you hated me"

"Can you blame me?"

"Not for a second"

"Okay.... im gonna go inside, we'll see you tomorrow?"

"I'll be here. Goodnight Y/N"

"Goodnight Chris" i said quietly before shutting the door and taking a deep breath to try and control my emotions, i was so sick of crying over fucking Chris Evans! I thought those days were over.

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31

Ocean eyes: @supraveng @michelehansel @katiew1973 @denisemarieangelina @mrsjeffwittek @mery-be @marvelfansworld @cmalass @capstopavenger @fallenoutofrose @kelbabyblue @biebsmylife95 @loser-alert @traceyaudette @w3lissax

Taglist is open, drop me an ask or DM if you’d like to be added 💕

#chris evans #captain america #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #reader insert #steve rogers x reader #ocean eyes

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fandomtrash264 · 3 years

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I have some Fred and George promts that I don't want to forget so imma put them here. If you are interested in writting them, by all means go for it, just tag me. I don't think I have a preference over who is in each scenario. I will probably write George and Fred based on what I thought but they should work with either twin. I do think they are different, im just saying that I could see the story going with either boy

• Reader and Fred pull a prank on George that changes his hair color based on mood. (Red - angry, blue - sad, green - disgust, light pink - embarrassed, hot pink - flirty, purple - in love/swooning, dark purple -lust) The 3 are sitting in the great hall eating and George is staring at reader and his hair turns purple. Reader thinks he has just zoned out and starts to bug him asking who he is thinking about. Leads to confession (and I imagine he is embarrassed so his hair is pink)

• Reader is a metamorphmagus and they like to switch between male and female so they change their physical appearance as such. (I see Fred as bi ngl) Fred gets a crush on the reader without knowing they are both people. A little while later, he falls for the other side (if that makes sense) of them and thinks he likes 2 different people. He is super torn and has no idea what to do

•This one is a Soulmate AU. The one where you can hear the music your soulmate is listening to. Reader is listening to ✨🌶 S p i c y 🌶 ✨ music and he knows its reader and he is shocked because they don't seem like they would listen to it and he is pleasantly suprised to find they are super flirty and such (he is twin of your choice lol)

•Yet again, one of our boys gets pranked. They lie about something that makes reader upset so they prank them so that everytime they try to talk, bubbles come out instead and the only way to undo it is to do somthing super embarrassing (I'll leave that to y'alls imagination's) and they refuse because they are petty but they eventually give in with this big social stunt or smth

•i imagine reader is a Ravenclaw (could really be any) who is the child of Bellatrix and *Moldy Voldy* (why ravenclaw you ask? I'll explain) They are in George and Fred's year so they are older than Harry. Reader was rescued a little before Harry was born and got to stay with someone else (probably Remus or smth. I imagine a gryfinndor so that way the Slytherin and the Gryfinndor kinda cancel out so you get Ravenclaw. Slytherin is their blood but they know its wrong so they push for the good values. I know slytherins can be good [believe me, I am very big on the fact that not all Slytherins are evil] but when its Bella and Mr. Tom, they have some bad bones) and they keep it a secret from their friends (the twins, the trio, etc.) Until Remus brings them to an OoTP meeting. He doesn't say who he just says he is bringing He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named 's child and they are terrified of how their friends will react. Kinda angsty but eventually they all understand that reader isn't evil

• Branching off of the previous, same family situation but when they were younger, they weren't seen as a child, they were a weapon. Trixie and Tommy boy would experiment on them so they are lowkey fucked up. They are super powerful and struggle to control it. Reader freaks out because they are terrified that he will be able to control them or see in their mind and good 'ole Gred and Forge help our reader to feel better and reassure them

• Reader and a twin are dating in 7th year (With Umbridge) and instead of breaking up or telling them about the plan to start a shop, they just leave and break off all contact. Years later they see each other and reader confronts them about how he couldn't even break up with them before leaving and he confesses his worries. Inspired by the song Ways to Break a Heart by Maddie Zahm [you can find it on YouTube]

• Can happen to either the reader or George or Fred but somehow by prank or accident in class, they get separated into different parts of themselves [parts like the 7 deadly sins (so they would be split into Pride and Lust) but also other things work (like Fear and Wonder)] and the other 2 have to deal with it until the problem is fixed

• (I have a lot with the boys and pranks, sorry lol) the boys get de-aged and reader has to chase them around because they are H E A T H E N S but then later on they put them to sleep and the Love Interest (twin of choice) snuggles up to them and mentions how much they love them and reader gives it no mind because "he was a baby". They snuggle and when they wake up the boys are of normal age and the Love Interest just snuggles closer and says something like "I meant it y'know. I really do love you/think you're amazing" and just. Fluff

• (I wrote George, yet again, could work with either) Reader is playing with the sleeve/hem/string of George's sweater/hoodie and he quips with a flirty comment like "you want the whole thing? Here, give it back when it smells like you" and the reader brushes it off as a flirty comment and teases "how am I supposed to know what I smell like? I'm noseblind to myself" and he gives them a scent. The scent seems familiar to them but oh well. They wear it because its soft and it smells like him and later on when they are chilling in the common room or whatever (George isn't there) they realize that's what he said he smelt in his Amortentia in potions last week and they lowkey freak out and go to ask him about it and aaaah! Cute things ensue

• [!!!TW: Depression, suicidal thoughts!!!] Can happen to either reader or one of the boys.(If it happens to a boy i see it being George as he seems insecure of being in Fred's shadow and I will write the prompt that way but it works with Fred and reader as well) George has been a little off recently and reader and Fred can't figure out what it is until reader goes to the astronomy tower late one night and finds George on the roof of the atronomy tower, seemingly fighting with himself about whether or not he should jump off. Angst, ends with fluff, reader helps him to feel better. Inspired by the song Achilles Come Down - Gang of Youths

•During their 6th year with the Triwizard Tournament, a durmstrange gent takes a liking to the reader. They start to court the reader and flirt with them, give them lots of compliments, try to show their affection. The Love Interest (again, twin of choice) get REALLY jealous tho and decides to try and out-do the durmstrang boy. This leads to really extravagant methods of flirting (ex. Sending a howler that is actually a shower of compliments or after a big quidditch match, the whole team does a choreographed dance where the suitor sings/performs to reader) all of this leading up to the yule ball. They either go with the durmstrange guy and deal with Love Interest later or they end up going with the Twin, whatever you would like

• Everyone is at the Burrow and they decide to watch a movie. While everyone is in the kitchen, the twin (who is the Love Interest) comes by and says "Oh! Are you guys watching a movie?" Readet replies "Yeah, P.S. I Love you" and he just blushes really hard and sits next to them and says "I love you too". Reader doesn't know how of if they are gonna tell him that "P.S. I Love You" is the name of the movie. Then everyone else comes back in so they have to wait until after the movie to talk about it. The whole time the movie is going all they can focus on are the "I Love You"s that escaped each others mouths. Inspired by a wolfstar text post by @starsandmoonys

• Inspired by the drarry work, Mental by sara_holmes on Ao3 (which you should totally go read like holy shit i love this idea sooooo much) written with George but as usual, can work with either. Reader is in for total shock when a joke gone sour ends with George striking them with a bad Legilimency spell. Due to this spell, they can (and have to) hear each others thoughts and see the pictures in each other's minds. What will happen when they see all that goes on in each others heads? Will they learn to communicate? Will they let one another in? Will they like who they see, or will they be scared away from the thoughts behind closed eyes?

• (TW!!!!: Dreamt character death, War) Fred and reader have been friends-with-benefits for a long time with feelings slowly growing between the 2 of them. They stay in denial until Fred has a nightmare one day where reader dies in the war. The next day he is desperate to hold them and see that they are okay. He confesses his feelings in fear of losing them. Inspired by Woke the Fuck Up - Jon Bellion

• [(TW!!! War) Fred lives] Fred and Reader had a huge fight right before Fred and George left Hogwarts and leave things on a rocky ending. Fred knows just how much he needs Reader and he desperately wants them back. Reader doesn't want to admit it but they miss him.and want him back too. They see each other again after the war and Fred breaks down in their arms and confesses how much he misses them and needs them. How hard it has been without them. Reader reciprocates these feelings and tells him. They start over, slowly building their love up again inspired by Bad Habit - Ben Platt [First verse and Pre-chorus would be Fred's feelings and second verse and Pre-chorus would be Reader. They blend on the 3rd]

• George has been strangely quiet all day. Reader is confused and a little hurt as George seems to avoid them. Leaving rooms when they walk in, not keeping eye contact and staying as physically far as he can. That is until they sit down in the great hall for lunch and Fred tells his friends (including reader) all about having put a truth serum in George's drink and all the funny things he has gotten him to admit. Reader goes to confront George about what he is hiding (because otherwise he would talk to them, right?) And they get an oddly specific but touching confession [ie. "I borrow your chapstick because that is what your lips will taste like" and "I see you in my dreams almost every night" ] inspired by Jenny - Studio Killers

• [Choose whether the person who can dance is reader or Twin of Choice. I will be writting with reader] The yule ball is coming up and reader can't dance to save their life. A certain red-heades friend comes in to help. At first, reader doesn't believe him because "c'mon, why would you know how to ballroom dance?" But they are pleasantly suprised to find they are actually really good at it. Like, REALLY good. "Mum made all of us learn. In case we ever needed it". Reader notices their feelings start to change as they spend more and more sessions together dancing until the yule ball occurs. Take it from there lol

• just a very cliche typical love potion fic. Reader volunteers to be on the receiving end of one of Fred and George's pranks- spike their drink with love potion- on one condition. The person reader will be in love with, knows about it. Reader figures this will allow them some leeway and safety against other pranks. All is going well until they spike the drink for reader to like (twin of your choice) and they realize that nothing has happened except they are a bit more flirty. Everyone is crazy confused because for everyone else they were head over heels swooning and attached at the hip until Hermionie (or somebody else) quips in with "You can't create something that already exists, y'know".

• So this one is less creative and it's also a mix of 2 tropes but bear with me. Reader is a very outgoing flirtatious type of person. They openly flirt with everyone, Fred, Ginny, Neville, Dean, etc. They don't care, its a way they show affection. Then, when they start to get a crush on George (or Fred) they star getting more shy and reserved with him. And he is completely clueless. He's lowkey hurt because "why doesn't Y/n crack jokes like that with me?" And shit like that. He is feeling down when he sees it. No, not 'it', he sees you. You and Fred flirting. He's got you cornered to the wall and your cheeks are flushed and George is big mad. (When really, Fred just cornered them so they couldn't avoid the question and was teasing and asking about their crush on George). George ends up seeing out Y/n, getting them alone and confronting them. Light angst? But ends fluffy as reader explains what actually happened

*im going to keep updating this as I get more ideas so be prepared*

#prompt list #my prompts #fred and george #fred weasley #george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #most of these are based off of songs

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remingt0nleith · 4 years

Text

thorns | remington leith

try & find the hidden palaye royale song title in the fic! & additional A/N at the end.

A/N: hi wow long time no write :( SORRY! I have ideas and I try to write then my brain just doesn’t want to put the ideas on the word document. + y’know having depression doesn’t help things bleh... BUT I did write a full something finally (yay bare minimum author things!) This was requested! gonna keep trying to turn out requests & work on dark cherries also my birthday is on thursday and i’m turning 24 (wow im getting old help) & also the bastards comes out the day after so yay! lets chat about it when its out ok?

Request: Where Remington cheats on the reader and she finds out, but he does everything he can to get her back?

Thorns - A Remington Leith one-shot. || 1.9K words || under cut.

The catalyst for a ruined night came in a round of shots. Emerson poured the amber liquid into hot pink shot glasses that the boys had picked up days prior. Remington wasted no time in downing his, barely flinching at the bitter taste that now coated his tongue.

“Slow down there, cowboy”

Sebastian laughed before throwing his own shot back, placing a hand on Remington’s cheetah print covered shoulder.

“We can’t have our lead singer fucked up out of his mind, can we?”

The eldest brother chided playfully as he took the bottle from Emerson and poured more shots.

As the brothers drank and talked anxiously about their first show of a new tour, Remington’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, taking it out he suppressed an eye-roll at the message filling his screen;

My Love <3: HEY BABY JUST WANT TO WISH U LUCK TONIGHT YOU’LL KILL IT. LOVE U.

He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him lately, usually, he’d be thrilled at the love and adoration his girlfriend of three years was showing him. She was always cheering him on, listening to his music, and supporting his band in every way she could. Although she was unable to come to most shows due to a fast-paced work schedule she always made a point to let the band of brothers know they had her support. That should’ve been enough to keep Remington happy but recently he had become cold towards his girlfriend and as he put his phone away without responding all thoughts of her disappeared as well.

Remington headed backstage after the show still high from the performance. The adrenaline from the encouraging crowd and kick-ass concert his band delivered had Remington feeling happier than he had in months. Once in the dressing room, the boys quickly changed out of their sweaty stage attire into more relaxed outfits, and like clockwork, shots were once again being handed out.

Once everyone had a decent buzz going the boys and their crew headed out to a nearby nightclub to celebrate the success of the show. Remington realized halfway to the club that he had forgotten his phone in the dressing room, a fact that didn’t phase him, in fact he was happy to be rid of the constant ringing.

Once inside the packed club, Remington waved goodbye to his brothers and made his way to the bar. His buzz had diminished slightly in the car ride and that was a no go for Remington so he ordered a drink, which quickly became two, then three before he headed to the dance floor.

Packed in a sea of bodies the singer danced to the music, enjoying the happiness that came from the night’s events as well as the alcohol in his system. When a manicured hand grabbed him and pulled him close, he didn’t object, instead, he wrapped his arms around the dark-haired beauty.

The pair danced together to the techno music blaring overhead, strobe lights illuminating their faces, hands roaming freely over each other’s bodies before the woman leaned in and planted a sloppy kiss to Remington’s lips.

If there was a moment of panic, a spark of recognition somewhere in the sober part of his mind, Remington ignored it. Instead, he deepened the kiss with the gorgeous stranger, when the pair eventually pulled away from the kiss, they headed to the bar for more drinks.

When Sebastian came to let Remington know it was time to head to the hotel, the frontman wasted no time in asking this new girl if she’d like to go with him. Much to the dismay of the older (and wiser) brother, she said yes and everyone piled into the van and were chauffeured back to the hotel to continue the party.

Morning light filtered through the window a sign of a new day, but as Remington opened his eyes the gravity of last night hit him. He was alone in his hotel bed, the white sheets crumpled and covered in streaks of makeup (his or hers, he wasn’t sure). Flashbacks of last night filled his mind and all at once he realized the hickeys on his body were from a stranger, the realization filled him with shame and dread.

He found his phone which had been placed on his nightstand by one of his brothers or their touring manager (who always cleaned up after the boys’ wild nights) and on it were several unread texts and calls which came in at varying points of the evening.

[9:13 pm] My Love <3: It should be time for u boys to be on stage! I’ll be stalking twitter for updates and vids love u

[12:02 am] My Love <3: Watched a ton of vids that are already being posted! Get back to me when u get this my love so proud of u xx

[3:56 am] My Love <3: Guess your phone died or your out celebrating a great night. Call me when you see this or wake up. I love you.

[10:20 am] 5 missed calls

[10:27 am] *attached photo* REMINGTON.... FUCK YOU.

The photo on his phone screen displayed the girl from last night under the covers as a passed out Remington slept beside her. The caption didn’t say anything besides a winking emoji and she tagged him and his band’s account.

Instantly, he was dialing his girlfriend’s number, hands shaking as he paced around the spacious hotel room desperately waiting for an answer.

“Hello?”

Rose answered, soft voice hoarse from hours of crying.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry..”

Remington started to explain, words tumbling out of his mouth faster than he could form them.

“Save it”

Rose snapped before continuing her voice harder and more assured now than it was just moments ago.

“I never thought you’d do this even as the band started to gain an audience, I told myself that I had nothing to worry about. All the pretty girls and boys didn’t matter because what we had was strong but it sucks being proven wrong huh?”

Remington’s sudden surge of tears prevented him from speaking as the pain in his chest grew with each word. The saddest part of it all was that she was right and that ripped him up inside.

“Rose I-”

he whispered, voice barely audible even to himself.

Instead of an answer he was left hearing the sound of the call disconnecting.

The tour passed by in a daze for Remington and while his brothers desperately wanted him to be more present, they understood. He’d get on stage and sing, forgetting about the pain in his heart for that hour or so, as soon as the curtain closed the ache in his chest was back, a cruel reminder to the life-changing mistake he’d made.

Rose had cut off all contact with her now ex-boyfriend instead choosing to go through Emerson to inform him she was moving out of their shared apartment in LA.

Each night in his hotel bed, memories of the past three years filtered through his brain until he exhaustingly cried himself to sleep.

Remington used Emerson’s phone to send a series of texts to Rose to apologize, to accept full responsibility but the only reply he received was instructions to give Emerson his phone back and to leave her alone.

Just as quickly as the tour started it was now coming to a close a few months later. The boys were back in LA for a sold-out show in typical Los Angeles fashion. Remington never stopped trying to get ahold of Rose -- he sent flowers to her new address, letters where he begged for her back, apologizing and pleading for her forgiveness yet he was never awarded a reply. He didn’t blame her at all but that didn’t mean the pain hurt any less, he’d do anything for a second chance.

Shots of vodka were taken, cheers and high fives were given and the boys hit the stage. Remington gazed out into the crowd, a see of silhouettes behind bright stage lights. After a few songs, Remington sat down at the end of the stage, dark boots quietly thumping against the side.

“Y’know fans like to think we’re perfect”

he stated which earned a chorus of “I love you’s” as well as cheers from the crowd.

He smiled before continuing,

“As much as I love to hear it, it’s not true and sometimes we royally fuck up. I fucked up and these past few months have been hell so I wrote this song.”

The crowd applauded as they watched their favorite singer head to the piano, the spotlight shining on him as he sat down.

“This song is called Thorns,”

Remington began to play a hauntingly slow ballad about losing the love of your life and how apart of you is lost as well.

The pain in my heart is defeating me

Cracking me open for all to see

I’m numb to life, deep inside

Needing you to realize, you’re the better part of me

An illusion of love is what I fear

Taking each step is now unclear

A rose garden in my dreams,

You leaving now in front of me

Take my heart it’s filled with thorns

A rose trapped inside a perfect storm

Throw me to the wolves I’m on my knees

Begging for my rose to please believe

I made a mistake that I can see

Yet this pain without you is deafening

My heart of thorns cuts me deep

Paralyzing me and making me weak

Please my rose I beg you, have sympathy.

The rose garden in my dreams,

But you’re leaving right now in front of me

Take my heart it’s filled with thorns

A rose trapped inside a perfect storm

Throw me to the wolves I’m on my knees

Begging my rose to please believe

I love you Rose it’s all I know, I’m sorry for all my sorrow

By the time the song ended, Remington had tears blurring his vision. He was so wrapped up in playing the song he didn’t realize he had started to cry but to the audience that just made it so much more beautiful.

After the show, Remington hurried off the stage in order to collect his emotions but in the dressing room sat Rose. Her blonde hair was curled and she wore a red dress and in a true movie moment a dozen roses sat in her lap.

“Rem that song…”

she started but before she could finish, Remington ran over and threw his arms around her, hugging her to make sure she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

“I’m so sorry”

he whispered once she hugged back.

“The flowers were from Seb”

Rose mumbled, green eyes flicking down to them after their hug. Sebastian must have ordered them because he knew what Remington was planning. That was his older brother alright, always playing the papa bear role.

The singer’s mind was racing a mile a minute, he had a million questions but all he could do was apologize.

Rose shushed him with a chaste kiss before speaking,

“By no means have I forgiven you completely. That song however beautiful doesn’t make everything go away but I’m willing to work on us”

Remington nodded, happy she was here and willing to give their relationship another shot.

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes,”

he whispered, wrapping her in another hug.

They knew it would be a long road to get back to where they were before but Remington was happy he had his Rose back in his life.

A/N: omg that song was not that good I came up with it on my own though and I’m not a lyricist lol hope u enjoyed xx

#remington leith fic #remington leith imagine #remington leith #request #palaye royale fic #palaye royale imagine

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summoner-kentauris · 3 years

Text

im not editnig this because its 1 am and i have to work tomorrow suffice to say it almost certainly got errors

i would call this emotional h/c ish territory. people having messy problems but coming out of it okay. alfonse dealing/not dealing with his hel curse. al and zash dealing with the fact that no one wrote him lettterrrrrrssss. no one was more surprised than me to find this one ends positively

Alfonse Gustavsvin, First Sword of the Order of Heroes and Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Askr has made some serious mistakes in his life.

Not the kind of mistakes his father would have called mistakes. Not the little things he’d once dragged himself over the coals for. Those things that Kiran calls “healing” to forget.

No, he’s his own man now, or at least he’s trying to be, and in that vein he can admit that he, himself, has made mistakes. Little ones, like sneaking away to practice, when he should have been balancing books, and causing a few hours headache for Anna when she had to do it late at night. Normal ones, like letting Kiran fly the Aether castle. He’s even made some big ones.

He’s not sure what category to class forgetting to tell Zacharias about that tiny small thing with Hel and all that.

He doesn’t even realize he’s made said mistake until he’s face to face with Zacharias again, and Zash is bleeding from a nasty cut on his head, and his shirt is torn and he’s sweating and wincing and grabbing a rib and begging the Order to help his sister-

That’s when it hits. He didn’t tell Zacharias. By the level of desperation in his voice, no one had.

Alfonse finds he doesn’t curse very often unless its around Zacharias, and he really has to work hard at it then, because, well, shit.

He tries to break the news as diplomatically as he can.

He can recognize Zacharias by his lance work alone.

He doesn’t need to see Zacharias’ eyes to read heartbreak.

He’s not surprised that Zacharias doesn't seek out the healers that night. He’s seen the what Bunrun- Spring Bruno can do with a staff. Fuck. Another thing Zacharias doesn’t know.

Focus on breaking the news about an amnesiac bunny summon version of him later.

Death first.

Zacharias sits, peculiarly still, as far away from camp as he can get. The cut on his head looks better than it had looked, which is nonetheless worse than it ought to. He doesn’t touch Zacharias. He believes him about the curse, really, he does, even if often his heart doesn’t want to. Wants him back.

“I’m sorry,” he says, because if there’s one thing thinking you were gonna die in nine days did for you, it was help you be a little less equivocating. “I should have told you.”

“You were busy,” Zacharias says, simply, without looking over at him. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

You were busy, meaning, someone had told him the whole story before Alfonse had got to him. You were busy,meaning, Zacharias is always making up a narrative in his head. There’s nothing to apologize for, meaning, inevitably Zash is writing himself out of that narrative. Again.

Alfonse sighs.

“What were you told?” he says, in lieu of anything better.

“It matters not.” Zacharias goes to rise. “I must-”

“Sit down, Zach,” he says, maybe with more force and less weariness than he thought, because Zacharias does immediately. He almost looks surprised. It would be funny, if Alfonse wasn’t so tired.

“When all this is over,” he says, without thinking, “I’m going with you.”

Zacharias turns and stares at Alfonse through his mask for a long, long moment.

“What?”

He can’t match his stare. Not with the mask on. Not when something that hurts and stretches is unfolding itself, like a spine clicking.

So he doesn’t. The heavy night is deep. It looks endless, but only because its so dark. There’s no way to see a beginning, so there’s certainly no way to see an end.

Zacharias makes a huffing sound. “You can’t come with me. Alfonse, you can’t, I- the curse alone.”

“Nine days.” The voice doesn’t sound like his own. “Nine days.”

Zacharias falls silent. Alfonse feels silent, too, except he’s talking, so he can’t be. He’s moving his hands, so he must still be here.

“I didn’t want to see you,” he says. “So I didn’t tell you.”

Fool that he is, he doesn’t realize its true until he’s saying it. Until its real and invisible in the night air.

Zacharias sucks in a breath, but doesn’t say anything.

“I wanted to think,” he continues, “that I didn’t want you to see me like that. But it’s not true, is it? I didn’t want to see you, to see you and know you were-”

He cuts himself off when he realizes what he means to say. But, there are mistakes, and then there are mistakes.

And he misses his friend.

“…right,” he finishes. “Curses can be solved by death.”

“I know,” Zacharias says, after a beat. His tone is calm, even. “I’ve known that for some time. You know I believe that. So, then… what’s truly troubling you?”

“It’s funny, right?” That’s answer enough, right? “Nine days and all I could think about was how I didn’t want you to show me up.”

“Mm hm,” Zacharias mms. “And the truth, this time?”

Alfonse snorts. “What makes you think that’s not?”

If Zacharias cracks a smile, Alfonse chooses not to notice it out of the corner of his eye. None of this is funny.

“You’re clenching your left hand, where you usually hold your shield. I thought you’d broken that tell?”

He does laugh at that. His laugh doesn’t sound right. It sounds hurt. Why is he the hurt one?

“This isn’t… this isn’t funny,” he tries.

He’s not prepared for Zacharias to lightly reach out to touch his face. He’s not prepared to notice, suddenly, the tears that have begun making their way from his own eyes. He’s not prepared for feeling like someone has shoved Fólkvangr through his heart.

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Why am I… why am I crying?”

“Oh, Alse,” Zacharias says, and then nothing else. He’s too busy pulling Alfonse into his arms, hugging him tightly, pulling his head close and holding him.

Alfonse doesn’t know why he’s crying. He doesn’t know why he can’t stop.

“I don’t… I don’t...”

Zacharias doesn’t say anything. Not when Alfonse starts making choking ugly crying sounds, not when Kiran and Sharena show up in a panic and he waves them off. Not when Alfonse finally beings to quiet into something he can pretend isn’t weeping.

Zacharias is quiet for a long, long time, until there is only the sounds of distant camp, and restless insects.

“Did you kill it?”

It takes Alfonse a moment to realize where he is, that someone is speaking, that it’s Zacharias who’s speaking.

“Hel?” he adds.

Alfonse carefully works his way out of Zacharias’ arms. It’s so cold in the night, but… “I… yes.”

“Good.”

Mistakes he’s made, that he keeps on making. He wishes he could go back. It’s so cold in the night.

“We were supposed to be together. It was supposed to be Embla, supposed to be together-”

“Aren’t we?”

The interruption throws Alfonse for a second. He swivels to look at Zacharias. Masked as always. And yet, Alfonse can feel Zacharias’ eyes on him.

“Aren’t we what?”

“Together. You and I. You’re here. I’m here. We’re here. That counts, doesn’t it?”

It’s like the earlier not-crying has wrung all the words out of him. “I...”

“I’ve learned a lot, being away,” Zacharias says. He looks back out across the night. “Very little has been useful, I think. Some of it, though… Does it matter?”

He turns back to face Alfonse abruptly. “Does it matter? That you didn’t tell me? I don’t want to hurt anymore. I don’t. I’m so ill of it, so… does it matter? Can I choose to let it go?”

“I...” Alfonse doesn’t like feeling dizzy. Doesn't like feeling cold. Wishes someone was hugging him again. Wishes it was Zacharias. “It’s not that simple, I…”

“There’s too much complicated in the world, Alse. There’s so, so much of it. I… know not what deserve is, or what right is, but I find myself wanting to ask all the same: can we be simple again? Let’s be easy. Let’s let it all go and just…”

“I didn’t write you.”

“And I wasn’t there,” he counters. “And next time, something will happen and you’ll run off without me and it will be the end of the world, and I won’t be there and you didn’t tell me. You hurt, I hurt, none of it’s our fault. So hang it all. It’s been a decade. If neither of us is going to change, do you really think our feelings will?”

“I thought I was going to die,” Alfonse says. His voice sounds small. He can’t bring himself to hate it. “I thought I would never see you again. So I though it would be easier to just accept it.”

“That doesn’t sound like a man who stood in a bunny costume and promised to kill a god for me, now does it.”

A spark of an emotion that’s not empty despair.

“This- this isn’t funny!”

Zacharias smiles a bit. “Apologies. My sense of humor has been warped by the voice in my head, you know, the one that regularly demands I disembowel everyone I’ve ever loved.”

He can’t stand this cold. “Hold me, please.”

And Zacharias does, without a pause.

He falls into a running a hand through Alfonse’s hair. It’s soothing, in a way Alfonse hasn’t felt in a long time.

Maybe ever.

“It truly isn’t that simple, is it?”

Zacharias talks to the open air. Alfonse doesn’t want to leave the warm he’s found in order to look at him, so he doesn’t.

“No,” he agrees. “It isn’t.”

“I’m sorry,” Zacharias says. His hand doesn’t falter in Alfonse’s hair. “I’m sorry I can’t be there.”

“Me too.”

That’s pretty simple, Alfonse thinks as they sit there. Two people, being sorry that they can’t properly care for the person they care about. None of it really their fault at the end of the day.

“Alright,” he says, suddenly. “We’ll let it go.”

“Mm?”

He leans up. He untangles himself.

“You’re right,” he repeats. “I promised we’d kill gods together. But, if we’re going to be defiant, well… oughtn’t we do it right?”

Zacharias tilts his head. “What?”

“I was so afraid,” he says, simply. “No more. Damn the gods. I chose you.”

Zacharias’ smile flickers, then settles into something softer and more familiar. “And if we fail?”

“Hm.” Alfonse settles back into Zacharias arms, it feels different, somehow. Less like running. “Well, we’re still young, you and I. Plenty of time to make some interesting mistakes.”

At that, Zacharias genuinely laughs, and then relaxes. He goes back to fiddling with Alfonse’s hair, and, frankly-

Frankly, he’s had a shit day, but in that moment he’s never felt better.

#my wips

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writers-hes · 4 years

Text

falling -- sequel to cherry

based on a request by anon ! i decided to make a sequel / prequel thing for cherry and this fic will definitely be confusing with the time jumps and etc ! the story takes place in harry’s point of view, three months after you broke up. the dashes will help as guide.

please don’t forget to leave a feedback!

if you haven’t read cherry yet, you can read it here. if you want to be a part of my taglist, like/reblog this post.

don’t forget that requests are open! this may be the final instalment to the cherry universe but i can make a third instalment if i get enough requests.

thank you so much and enjoy !

WARNING: unedited + cussing + mentions of alcohol

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it’s been three months since Harry decided to break things off with you. It was a mutual decision but it still hurt knowing that you could be out there, with a new man. That was always you—trying to use the remainder of the love that you had for someone on someone else. He regretted it and he wanted you back. He wanted nothing more but for you to call him, telling him you wanted he back and if you did—if the universe permitted it, if you called, he would go to you, in france and knock on your door with his knees on the floor.

he never believed in signs but he was asking for one now—he was so fucking desperate. he missed you and loved you. if it was possible, his love grew more and more each day even if you were gone. it was impossible to think that you would love him more. the thought of you with someone else under the sheets, you kissing somebody else that wasn’t him, sent him into overdrive. he’s been writing songs about you since you called things off and it’s too much—he would always go to the studio in tears and leave in tears. he was so hurt, so fucking hurt. he ruffled his hair. he was currently in his london home, a place where you once were. his living room was reeking of alcohol and his back hurt from staying idle on his sofa the whole day. he just got back from shang ri-la malibu. jeff and mitch told him to take a break and he agreed.

he opened his phone and opened his messages app. he scrolled until he found your name, clicking on it and reading the unsent text message he’s been dying to send you. he can’t, though. you seemed to be looking at your best, your friends posting photos of you. your smile was still beautiful, it will always be.

hello. i thought of you today but i’ve been think about you everyday and will probably do so till i die.

i just got back home here in london and i noticed that your things are here anymore. it seems like it’s just me, harry all alone again. the room is barren of you ever being here. i tried to smell the bedsheets in hopes to smell you but there wasn’t any. i also rummaged through my closet, wanting to find one of your old shirts that i could put over your favourite pillow just to feel you here but i didn’t find any. the only proof that you were here was your letter to me and i’m still hurt. still hung up over you, still drowning my senses in alcohol.

i love how you made sure i wasn’t home when you packed your bags. anyway, the keys to my house will still be where you know it was, under the welcome mat, so you know that you’re always welcome here.

tears cascaded from his eyes and he couldn’t stop sobbing. should he press send and wait for you to call back? was it worth the risk? was it worth the humiliation if you decided not to call? he had to take a breather first. he’s drunk and all he wanted was for you to scold him about the dangers of alcohol poisoning. all he wanted in that moment was for you to give him a glass of water and light up your favourite lavender candle so he could slowly drift off to sleep but he couldn’t even fucking find the candle. you took it with him and he wishes to be sober so he could remember that particular lavender scent that you loved dearly.

he hated you, suddenly. how dare you compare him to adrien? how could he ever compare? you told him you loved him but still managed to tell him you loved adrien too? was this all a joke to you? he drifted to sleep, embraced by the brown liquor on the coffee table. he just wanted you back, was that too much to ask?

he wasn’t thinking clearly the next day. the sunlight that streamed through his window was too bright. there was a pounding in his head and he knows that if you were here with him, you’d fix him your favourite hangover breakfast. his shoulders slumped, if there was a way for it to be even more slumped. your favourites became his favourites and his favourites became yours. why couldn’t you be where he was? all he wanted that morning was your açai bowl but he couldn’t have that because you weren’t there to freeze the bananas. he was so dependent on you and it was killing him knowing that you would never be in his arms again. tears running down his face he decided he wanted to go to versailles and ask for your forgiveness. do you still love him even after three months?

———

it was the day after and he was in versailles, staying at a hotel near your apartment. he could still remember your floor and your room number. he just had to make sure that you were home. he was tired and dull from the flight but knowing that you’d be with him in a few hours was enough for him. the excitement and the anxiety that courses through his veins was more powerful than coffee. how have you been? did you cut your hair? did you change your hair colour? did you change the way you dress or do you still dress the way harry does? do you still like your coffee sweet and milky? what about your tea? do you still like it with a slice of lemon and a teaspoon full of honey?

as he was unlocking his phone, he noticed a huge amount of notifications that bombarded his phone. it was usually like this but he had more than usual and he didn’t post anything for three months. so what was this? he decided to check it out, only to see pictures of you with another man. your lips was touching his lips and for a moment, harry was dumbfounded? did you really move on that fast?

HARRY STYLES’S EX-GIRLFRIEND HAS MOVED ON!

words that made him see red. words that he didn’t know was coming so quickly. did you even love him? he opened his imessage app and erased the draft that he was about to send you last night? god, he couldn’t believe he was about to profess his love for you last night while you were probably out and about fucking another man.

mon bébé: Hey, y/n. Where are you love?

lovie: hi im at my apartment right now.. why?

mon bébé: Do you think I could come over? I need someone to talk to.

lovie: what??

mon bébé: I’m here in Versailles. Please.

lovie: okay sure…i’ll wait for you.

mon bébé: Okay. I love you.

his heart ached when you didn’t reply to his message. he immediately dressed himself in your favourite shirt of his—a shirt that you got him while you were studying abroad for an exchange student program. he was hoping that maybe, by seeing a shirt that you got him, you’d break up with your beau and have him back instead. he was hurt, angry, and perhaps, it was pride that was making him get out of the hotel and go to you. he wanted to hurt you the way you hurt him and as he arrived at your door in less than an hour later, hurting you was his only goal.

he knocked on your door three times and lo and behold, there was you. you smiled at him and opened the door wider. he went inside, removing his shoes before entering your apartment. he observed that there were no changes around the place but he did feel out of place.

“heard you moved on, huh?” he asked. you were shocked. “wha—“

“i saw the pictures, y/n,” “harry, if you’re here to shit on my decisions…stop it, please,” you whispered. you didn’t want to let him know this way.

“no, no…it’s only been three months! who is he? how did you two meet?” he asked you. he was fuming. how could you move on so quickly?

“harry, stop—“

“i. want. to. know.” he breathed. there was finality in his voice and you couldn’t help but mutter his name. “vincent? shit name, yeah?” he asked.

“harry, please. stop it,” you begged. he wasn’t listening and perhaps you deserved this. perhaps he was right but you needed someone and vincent just managed to be there for you.

“remember when…remember when you told me you loved me, y/n? was that even true? how can you move on so quickly? please…please tell me. tell me how you did it because i’d love to do it, too,” he was crumbling in front of you and you reached out to him. he scoffed and your attempt and backed away.

“it was true, harry. i still love you—always have, always will but…” “but what? can’t we fix what we had? i miss it, lovie. i miss you. do you call him bébé too? please, don’t do this to me, please.” he cried. “there’s no stopping us now. i’m not on tour anymore and i’m willing to be better for you…” “i’m with him, harry. he…asked me to be his girlfriend yesterday and i said yes,” you whispered. he looked at you so fast you were afraid he was about to get a whiplash. tears were coming out from both of your eyes and you were so close to opening that stupid fucking phone and breaking things off with vincent but it was unfair for him.

“break up with him.” he said. you looked at him with a gaping mouth. how could he just ask that of you? the break was a mutual decision but he was the one who insisted it.

“harry—“

“break up with him, y/n or i’ll—“

“what, harry? what will you do?”

“i’ll hate you,” he looked down at his hands, ashamed of what he even said. he was hurt and he could tell that you were torn and that you were hurting. a sadistic part of him loved it. he wanted to hug you and say that he was sorry and that he didn’t mean it but peeking through his long hair, seeing that you were closing and opening your mouth like that, he loved it. he liked it.

“you—you don’t mean that, harry. please tell me you don’t hate me, please.” you begged. harry heard it and you heard it too. it was obvious that you were choosing vincent over him.

“i’ll see myself out, then,” he smiled sadly. he got up from where he was sitting and you immediately stood up.

“harry, please. don’t leave like this. please, don’t hate me…i still love you,” you begged. you loved him but you couldn’t be with him right now.

“that’s the fucking thing, y/n!” he fumed. “you tell me you love me and that you’ll be there for me whenever i needed you but where were you? i was drunk in london last night trying to figure out the brand of your candles just so i could feel closer to you. i booked a flight here in versailles just to see you and beg for you to come back but you left me with that fucking letter. that’s all there is. you didn’t leave anything for me to remember you by. i wanted to have your shirt last night so i can put it over your pillow so i could pretend that you were still there, with me, under the sheets. you—let go of us so easily,” he sobbed. he was tugging on his hair and you reached for it. touching his hands ever so slightly but he pushed you away. “don’t.” he warned. “i hate you so much…so, so much,” he cried. he loved you but he had to convince himself otherwise. it would make all of this easier.

“we can still be friends, harry.” you offered. tears were running down on your face and you wiped them.

“i can’t…hurt myself like that, y/n. i’m leaving the hotel tomorrow at 9 a.m. you can come by our place before that if you still want to be with me. until then, i will be waiting.” he mumbled. he walked until he was right in front of you. he cradled your face with his right hand, rings cold against your hot skin. “i love you,” he reminded as he pecked your lips softly for one last time before leaving your room.

———

harry said that he would be leaving his hotel at 9:00 am to be at your place—a little nook in the busy streets of versailles that served his favourite macarons. he was lying, though. he got up at 6 am and left the hotel at around 7:30 am. it was currently 8 and he was anxiously waiting for you. until what time should he stay? he wouldn’t be leaving france in another two days. he was hoping you’d come back and spend more time with hime but that plan’s down the drain now. he got you your favourite box of macarons and looking at it, he remembered the first time you took him here so vividly.

———

“ah! i can’t believe you’re here, harry!” you gushed. he had a short break before touring again and he decided to surprise you with some of the souvenirs he got you from his touring. it’s only been two months since you both started dating but you both knew that whatever the feeling was was real.

“where are you taking me?” he chuckled. you were currently dragging him onto the streets of versailles. he was wearing a mickey mouse sweater and some jeans paired with some old skool sneakers. you loved seeing him off-duty and he knew that.

“i’m taking you to my favourite place in all of france!” you exclaimed. he smiled at you and he knew in that moment that he loved you. you walked around for a few minutes until you arrived at a lesser-populated area in versailles. you went inside one of the buildings and was immediately greeted by the smell of the concoction made from almond flour, fruits, cream, and chocolate.

“sit over there, baby. i’ll go get us some food,” you told harry. he nodded and let go of your hand. you watched as he sat somewhere secluded. you went over to the counter and immediately and smiled at the old lady. “bonjour! i would love to get…ah, two cafe au lait and then one tea macaron, cherry macaron, lemon meringue macaron, chocolate macaron, and rose macaron,” the lady nodded and you smiled, taking out some loose cash from your messy purse. a few minutes after and the lady gives you your order. you smiled at her and mumbled a “merci” after paying for the bill. you immediately made a beeline towards harry and set down the food and coffee you got him.

“what’s all this?” he asked, looking at the assortment of deliciousness in front of him. “macarons! when my mother and my father first moved here in versailles from their hometown, she said that my father took her here on their first date. when she found out she was pregnant with my older brother, oliver, my dad got her some macarons here, same when she was pregnant with me. buying macarons here became a family tradition and it’s really special to me and i want to show it to you,” you smiled softly. you watched him smile even wider. “i bought my favourite flavours for you to try! i like dipping it in coffee but it’s just a personal preference,” you told him.

harry was really happy that time. he remembered how you spent the afternoon just talking about your plans for the future as he ate macarons.

“harry?” you called. “hm?” he mumbled through his second lemon meringue macaron. “i took you here because i wanted to tell you something,” you blushed. harry was confused. were you about to break up with him? it’s been wonderful between the both of you so he doesn’t get it. why would you break up with him? “w-what is it?” he asked, clearly anxious to hear what you were about to say. “well, you see, the thing is my mother always told me to bring those who are special to me in this place, bébé. and well, uh—i guess what i want to say is that…i love you.”

“look, y/n, please don’t break up with—what? what did you say?” he started to ramble, realising what you just told him so late. “i said, i love you,” you shyly admitted. you looked at his face to find a big smile creeping up on his face. “really? i was thinking about it on my way here and i—i love you too, y/n.” he declared. it was a nice day after that—a day you won’t forget.

———

“harry!” you panted. you ran from your apartment to the macaron shop. you hair was sticking on your face. when you arrived, you observed harry—it was a natural thing to do and he looked like he was about to cry. you knew why. this was the place where you first declared your love for each other. harry already ordered your favourite lemon meringue macarons and your usual cafe au lait. you smiled sadly. harry looked up to you and offered you a little wave. you walked slowly to him, scared that he would tell you that he hated you again.

“y/n,” he breathed as you approached him. you sat in front of him and he hated how much he loved you in that moment. he will love you always. “harry—please, please don’t hate me,” you cried. it was obvious that you were crying since he left you last night. you looked like a mess, dark circles were under your eyes, and your eyes were swollen from crying yourself to sleep. before you got to harry, you cried a little bit more.

“baby, i could never hate you. i’m sorry if i told you those things last night. but…i just wanted another chance. i want another chance, please.” he told you. the sweetness of the macarons wafting in the air was a stark contrast to how the both of you were feeling. he was torn—he didn’t want to be a selfish prick but he wanted you all to himself. “harry, you know i can’t. not right now,” you told him. it was unfair to vincent and it was unfair to you.

“why not? i know you have vincent right now…but do you really love him more than you love me? i’ve been with you for more than a year….you just met him,” he reasoned. “it was you who wanted things to be over between us, remember?” you reminded him. he was sat in his chair, mouth agape. “i said i was okay with it because it seemed to be the right thing for you, harry. you were so set on it because we were just hurting each other and i get that—i really do but i just started to pick myself up…” you cried. “well, i take it all back! you can move in with me in london so you wouldn’t have to worry about me cheating on you and…and i forgive you, please just—i don’t know how to fix this, y/n. just tell me what to do, please…” he begged. he was crying, too. how could he do this to you? how could he put you in such an unfair situation? you only told him about adrien because he cheated on you. after that night, the both of you were just trying to mince your words, walking on eggshells.

“we weren’t being honest after that night, harry. when you cheated on me and i said things, i was hurt and so were you. you were guilty and so was i but we tried to make it work because we loved each other,” you told him. you reached out for his hand on the table and he allowed you to caress it, just like how you did. “you still love me right?” he asked. you nodded. “i still love you…that’s enough, isn’t it? i love you and you love me…right? love, please…” “harry, you can’t do this to me. not right now, not like this,” you backed. “love isn’t enough sometimes, harry…”

“fuck, y/n! then what the fuck am i supposed to do? tell me? i miss you everyday and love you always. i’m always missing you and there’s nothing i could do about it. every time i go somewhere to forget you, i see someone who looks just like you and then, i miss you again,” he sobbed, clinging on to your hand—clinging on to you in hopes for you to come back. “i hate you, i hate you so much…” he repeated over and over again. “y—you don’t mean that, harry. take it back,” you begged. you were crumbling in front of him. you knew it wasn’t true but it still hurt. the possibility of harry hating you was too much pain. “i don’t want to be your friend, y/n. i don’t want to hear you talk about how great that fucking prick is. if you can’t be with me then don’t be with me at all,” he scoffed.

“please, don’t tell me you hate me,” you begged. “you know what, y/n? actually, i do. i hate you so much…” he said, the four letter-word leaving a bad taste in his mouth. he was trying to convince himself that he did, even though he thought of you as the only thing binding his world together. he was so hurt because you were getting better and he was selfish. he wanted you to be as miserable as him. he wanted you to cry over him the way he cried over you. he watched as you fall apart, rubbing your eyes furiously, as you tried your best to stop the tears from falling. he wanted nothing more than to kiss your pain away but he couldn’t. you had vincent and he had no one. he used to have you but how could he have you if you have somebody else now? you stood up from the chair trying your best to run away from harry. how could he be so cruel to you?

you were making your way through the door hastily without acknowledging the prying eyes around you. you were so set on leaving, not caring if harry ran after you or not. perhaps he wouldn’t, perhaps he would.

harry was at your usual table, wiping his tears away, covering his eyes with the sunglasses you bought him. did you even notice that he was wearing what you gave him? did you notice that he was wearing your sunglasses? or were you too preoccupied with how he hurt you? he decided to stay in his seat until you were out of sight.

only then, did he decide not you. he immediately followed after you until he saw you, cradling your phone in your hands. you were sitting at a bus stop, waiting for whatever, probably to get as far away as possible from your ex-boyfriend. he wanted to approach you but he didn’t when he heard you say his name.

“vincent, please pick me up…i’m at the bus stop near le fatalité macaron, please. nothing big, i’m just upset, something came up and no, no, i want to get away here as soon as possible, mon cherie. please.”

perhaps you were better off without him.

———

the album finally dropped. did you listen to it? what do you think of it? as he lay down in the hotel where he stayed in versailles, he wanted nothing more than to call you and ask for your opinion. yours was the only opinion that mattered. he reached over the table until he took a hold of his phone. he looked at your name longingly before he decided to press ‘call’. he was staring into space when he heard your voice.

“cou cou! harry?”

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sorry for the french, i asked my friend to translate it,,,, don’t forget, a christmas-themed fluff fic will come out next week!

taglist:

@giitterysuits @bree082 @dezzym17 @bouncebackbyers @lolapuffs @belleamoree @demolition-lovers-blog

#harry #Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #fan #fiction #fanfic #fan fiction #falling #fine line #styles #one direction #harry styles fanfic

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