#this is all to distract myself from the whole Getting Yelled at For Ten Minutes that’s just happened | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years

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HI BEAUTY!!

daryl dixon fic request! plz do whatever you feel like doing and whatever you’re comfortable with<3

so like a prison era daryl right and he’s in the mood but the readers got some news?

<3 duck:)

literally my best friend here. go give @duckmania127 lots of love.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." I know that swearing isn't helping my situation at all but this waiting isn't getting any easier as the minutes tick on. I'm sweating, my hands shaking in my lap as I look over the three pregnancy tests on the cell floor, my heart practically pounding in my throat. I can't even fathom what's happened, I know that I'm not dreaming but I barely feel awake.

My brain tries to distract myself, thinking of the possibiltiy of having a child, making Judith a little best friend and someone for Carl to play with. These people were my family, Daryl is my family, but what were they going to think of me? Were they going to judge me for not being careful enough, for being careless with Daryl?

We're in love, shit happens, condoms break.

Count to ten, take a deep breath, relax...

My eyes seem to be stuck on the wall, tracing the lines of the brick with every breath I take, counting, waiting for the timer in front of me to go off. I'm thankful Daryl's out on a run with Glenn and Rick knowing that if he was here and aware of my concerns that he would panic more than I am. He's always claimed that he had nothing paternal about him especially given the two father-like roles in his life, his father and Merle.

I don't know who's more unprepared between the two of us.

I wonder if he'll be angry at me, if he'll yell or scream at me.

There's not a reason in my head for me to think that but it's the only thing running through my head. I'm angry at me, my mind running through all the times we've had sex, trying to pin point what time did it. Was it the time in the watch tower, the time in the showers, or what about the time when we were out on a run?

Fuck, it was probably the time we found the motel a few miles out. Rick thought we were dead because we came home a day late all due to the fact that I couldn't walk properly. I finally had to tell Maggie that I was not hurt and that I indeed just had my back blown out like three times.

The mans got stamina, what can I say?

The buzzer makes me jump, my whole body jolting as I quickly fumble to turn the ringing off before it woke up anyone in my block. I take a deep, anxious breath as I hesitate, not wanting to turn over the tests.

They're just lines on a piece of plastic, that's it.

Groaning, I flip them over, my eyes landing on the six lines staring up at me, bile rising up my throat as I immediately swipe the tests away from me, angry tears rising to my eyes.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." I cry, fingers weaving through my hair as my mind runs, my lips bleeding and raw from biting at them. I'm quickly thrown into the five stages of grief all at once but sticking around denial for the most part.

Moments later, I finally find the courage to grasp the tests between my hands, moving to set them in a box under the bed. I'd have to show them to Daryl, I know that, but I need somewhere safe to put them, out of sight, out of mind.

"Hey." My head whips around to look at Daryl, standing in the doorway with his forearms resting against either side of the door. I gulp, scrambling to my feet as he smiles, meeting me in the middle to wrap his arms around my waist. My toes lift off of the ground as he holds me tightly to him, my fingers tangling in his hair. He presses frantic kisses against the bare skin of my shoulder, overwhelmed with happiness just by seeing me. "Missed you." He whispers, pulling back to cup my cheeks as my feet touch the ground. My rapid, anxious heartbeat calms a bit at the sight of his eyes, loving the bashful smile on his lips. "You look upset." His brows furrow as I shake my head, leaning forward to capture his lips.

He hums, fingers trailing down my cheeks to my neck, all the way down my body to rest on my hips. Pulling me flush against him, I let out a breathy moans as he walks me backwards, one of his hands pushing the cell door closed with bang. By the time my back hits the wall, his hands are in my hair, his lips parting mine as he groans.

Reality check, Y/n, come back to reality.

Abruptly, I pull back, nausea once against consuming me as he frantically looks over my expression, his hands sliding away from me to rest on the wall behind me. His eyes are full of concern and confusion, nose bumping against mine as my eyes flutter shut.

"What's goin' on? Talk to me." I nod, trying my best to fight back the tears pricking at the backs of my eyelids but they quickly seep out and down my cheeks. "Come on, woman, you're scaring me." He mutters, pulling away from me completely as I reach down to take his hands.

"I just need you to listen to me." I clear my throat, leading Daryl over to the bed silently as I sit him down. He waits patiently, sweaty hands rubbing over his thighs.

"If it's that time'a month and you don't wanna do nothing, just say so." He teases, trying to cut the tension in the room as I laugh tearily, tucking some strands of hair behind my hears. "Jus' know a period stops nothin' but a sentence." His words make my whole body relax as I reach down for the box under the bed.

"I'm gonna show you something and I need you to take a breath first and not yell at me." I scoff, sitting down beside him crosslegged as he reaches out, placing his hand on my shoulder as his eyes find mine.

"Yell at you- what? Why would I ever raise my voice at you?" He asks but I shrug, waving his concern off but he just continues. "Never. If I ever raise my voice at you, you better put me in my place, you got that?" My heart warms, my overall anxiety diminishing a bit as I hand him the box, my eyes staring at the lid.

"I just want you to keep an open mind." I scoot away from him a bit as he blinks a few times, eyes directed at the box as he lifts the top, eyes immediately locking with the objects of my anxiety. "My gut instinct is to apologize to you. I know how you feel about kids and how you feel about being a dad, I know it's not what you want." My words feel strangled as I try to take another deep breath but nausea stifles my comfort again.

I watch him carefully as he stares, his fingers reaching into the box to lift one of the tests in his shaky hands, his head bobbing in a simple nod. I can't tell if he's going to blow up, cry or laugh. I can't gauge him, I can't read him and it's what makes this the scariest moment of the day.

"You're telling me I actually managed to knock you up?" He asks, the joking tone behind his voice makes my eyes widen, my lips parting in confusion. He sets the tests down, but his eyes stay locked on them. "Fuck I wonder which time did it." We have the same mind. I allow myself to laugh, reaching up to wipe my eyes as he laughs along with me, his chest rumbling as he strips himself of his vest.

"I know it's not what you want, Daryl-"

"Ever stop to think for one second that you're the only thing I want." He cuts me off simply, my brows pulling together as I point to the box as if he didn't actually see or read them.

"Daryl I'm pregnant-"

"C'mere, would ya?" He tugs me onto his lap, leaning against the wall as he shuffles me up his thighs, arms wrapped around my back. He looks up at me, his eyes are kind and reassuring but my head just shakes.

"Are you taking this seriously?" I scoff, hitting my hands against his chest as he cups my cheeks once more, forcing me to look down at him as my cheeks squish.

"Course I am, sunshine." He sighs, thumbs brushing against my cheekbones with a reassuring smile, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine. "Did you want me to get angry? Want me to yell? To leave you? Nah, I don't do that shit." He tugs me down into a hug as I rest my head on his chest, loving the feeling of his strong arms around me, my chest finally expanding and my nausea mellowing out. "You're my girl, could never leave ya." His fingers brush through my hair as happy tears rise to my eyes, my chin lifting to look up at him.

"I'm gonna get fat, ya know? Fat and disgusting, I'll look old." I warn, watching as he smirks, leaning down to capture my lips in a heated kiss. I whisper a quiet hum, the hair on my arms sticking up at the feeling of his lips, slow and heated against mine.

"Pregnant or not, still gon' fuck you good, hope you know that."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

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#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead fic

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cahrlotah · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐨𝐧

Trigger warnings: wishing a parents death, a lot of cursing, blood, hospitals, someone almost dying

Word count: 1.9K

Pairing : Hopper!Reader x Eddie Munson

One in which Eddie doesn’t die, just gets majorly injured.

“Why can’t you just accept him?!” I yell at my dad as tears fall from “He hasn’t done anything bad, he only has different taste in music and clothing. He is a lovely guy and if you gave him an opportunity you would also see it!” I continue to yell.

“ I can’t accept that drug dealing punk dating my daughter, I’m sorry but I don’t want him in my house anymore. That’s all I will say about it” he says in a stern tone.

“UGH! I fucking hate you, I hope you die!” I scream, shutting the door of my room.

It has now been eight months since his death, El, my adoptive sister we could say, has moved to California with the Byers while I stayed here in Hawkins.

After all the upside down shit that has been going on for the last years and Billy’s death the whole gang thought that all of this was over. But recently some weird deaths have been happening and the Hawkins police have framed my boyfriend Eddie as this satanic cult leader that has been sacrificing teenagers for some kind of ritual. We also discovered who is behind all of this, Henry Creel, a boy with telekinetic powers, just like El but with psychotic behavior and with some desire to kill traumatized kids.

So now while Lucas, Erica and Max are at this psyco’s house, while Nancy, Robin, Steve, Dustin, Eddie and I are back in the Upside down. While the girls and Steve are going to try to kill that motherfucker, Dustin Eddie and I are trying to make a distraction for the demobats.

Eddie is playing “Master of Puppets" by Metallica while the youngest boy and I are waiting for them to come. Everything goes on so fast and Eddie looks so hot as he plays his heart out for this occasion. The demobats are coming, Dustin counting down the seconds for them to hit us.

“Ten seconds Eddie!” I scream. Their fluddering sounds more intense as they come closer. The three of us enter the trailer, Eddie almost not making it. “Holy mother of Jesus Christ. These motherfuckers are trying to get in, Eddie, are there any places they could?” I question my boyfriend. Before he can say anything one of them breaks in through the ventilation hole. Panic fills our bodies as more of those monsters hit the windows and every surface possible, Dustin and Eddie are trying kill the demobat with the spares the created while I go to his room where a huge air vent is located, but i'm too late as a swamp of these weird bats come through. I scream as loud as I can, the bats are flying in circles in the small room, the door opens and Eddie gets inside without thinking twice, Dustin waits in front of the door to close it when we come out.

“Okay we need to go! NOW! Dustin you go first” he starts to climb the bed sheets made ladder that connects the upside down with our real world. I go after him and when I’m on the other side, waiting for Eddie, he just doesn’t go up. “ Eddie, come on!” we both scream, fearing that some crazy idea has come into his mind. He looks up at us with those big brown eyes of his and one of those kinds of stares full of sadness, he quickly looks away cutting the bed sheets, eliminating the only way he could get out.

“ I love you guys” he says before disappearing.

“Nonononononono” i start mumbling. “Fuck this shit, I’m going back there. Dustin'' I grab his face with two of my hands. “ I need you to rebuild another ladder okay” he is paralized “Okay?!?!” he comes back to his senses after some seconds. He nods and starts to look for some blankets, bed sheets etc. While I try to make a small stand with chairs where I can jump to the ceiling, grab something to pull myself up down that shithole.

It takes me a couple of minutes to grasp one side of the ceiling that is not slippery. When I finally manage to get to the other side, I fall badly hurting one of my legs but with all the adrenaline running inside me I can’t barely feel anything.

The sound of the demobats is further than before not sounding as loud. When the door opens I can hear his screams, pain filled screams. I run as fast as my injured leg allows, when I see him lying on the ground with lots of those demon bats attacking him.

“Eddie!” I start running, when I arrive where he is at, I throw myself on top of him acting as a shield between those god-awful bats and him. Their sharp teeth drilling my skin, each time they bite me their teeth deeping the wounds. I really start to feel this is the ending for both of us, how romantic right? The two lovers, the one who sacrifices themselves while the other protects them until death. My mind is already thinking about all the things that could happen when out of the sudden the bats fall to the ground seemingly dead.

“Eddie, are you okay?” He looks at me with a bloody smile. “ I’m going to get you out of here okay?” I cry, trying to wipe my tears out. I try move him, but he is to heavy for me to move. “Shit shit shit” I panic.

“Hey, (Y/N)” he says grabbing my hand, his blood now on my face“I need- i need you to do me a fav-favour” he mumbles, I nod my eyes full of tears. “ I need you to take care of all of them, okay? Specially Dustin'' he begs as tears fall down his face “ I will- I will always love you (Y/N)”

“Don’t fucking come with the “I’m dying” mologe because you are making it out of this shit hole okay?” I say between cries. “Steveee! Robbiiinn! Nancyyy!” I scream from the top of my lungs.

“(Y/N)?!?!” a female voice asks not far from where we are. “

“Eddie, don't close your eyes, okay baby? Stay with me. Explain to me what are your plans for the next quest. Jesus fucking Christ where are they” I look aroud nervously as Eddie tries to explain me his next D&D game, his voice is quiet, I can barely beraly hear him. Between the trees three figures appear. “ROBIN PLEASE HELP ME!” I beg. The three teenagers come running.

“(Y/N) your back-“ starts Nancy but I cut her off

“Im fine, okay, we need to take him to the hospital. I don't care if Vecna is dead. If he doesn’t make it I will physically die, I’m not even joking” They all help me take him back to the van, his gaze is lost in the blue/red sky of the Upside down, I’m losing him I can feel it.

Taking him back to our world is difficult but we eventually make it, the first to go after him are Steve , to start the car, and Robin to help Dustin take him to the car. When I make it to the other side I run towards the car as fast as my injured leg allows me. Steve and Eddie are already inside the car, I go to the backseats where my boy is laying down, I put his head on my lap and my hand locks with his.

“You are going to be okay. You are going to make it” I try to wipe his tears. “ Steve I don’t care how many laws you break, if we are not there in less than fifteen minutes he is going to die” he drives as fast as his car allows. “ Eddie, can you hear me?” he nods. The drive is short but it feels like it took us centuries to get there. Steve helps me take Eddie out of the car. When we enter, none of the doctors or nurses want to take him in, and at that moment is when something on my brain just snaps.

“IF IN TEN SECONDS I DON’T HAVE A NURSE AND A FUCKING DOCTOR TAKING CARE OF HIM AND SAVING HIS LIFE, I WILL PERSONALLY GRAB A SCALPEL AND START KILLING YOU ALL OF, I’M NOT FUCKING JOCKING” I yell with the craiziest look on my face. Then they all start moving towards us, they lay him on a litter and take him to a surgery room. They said they need to inspect him before doing anything.

“(Y/N)...” whispers Steve, I turn around “ I think you should get help too, those wounds on your back don’t look good plus you have been limping on your left leg since we were on the Upside down.” he looks around for some nurses, they all seem to comprehend the situation and take me in.

Now all my torso is bandaged and my left foot has a cast, I look disgusting. My face and arms are still covered with dried mud and blood, most of the areas covered with bruises. I'm sitting next to Eddie’s bed, my head resting on the mattress. He is sleeping now, they gave him some sleeping medicine so he can rest, he has lost a lot of blood but the doctors said he is going to be alright. Dustin is sleeping on the big chair.

Before I fall asleep, someone knocks on the door, hoping to see some nurse with some test results. I turn my head rapidly. To my surprise I see my Dad, who I thought had died eight months ago , and El with her head shaved again.

“D-dad!” I try to run towards him, tears falling down my rusty face, but my injured leg doesn’t allow me to make more than three steps.

“Oh my beautiful girl” he says as he hugs me tightly. “I’ve missed you so much” he loosens his grip when he notices the bandages on my back. “ What happened?!” he questions.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?” he nods. I hug El, she has grown so much in this past months.

“(Y/N)” a small voice behind me calls me. Eddie is awake, he is smiling like he always is.

“Hi there sunshine, how are you feeling?” my dad helping me to get closer to him. He doesn’t say anything, still too weak. “I thought I had lost you. Don’t you ever do that again Eddie Munson, because if this shit repeats again you are dead. And this time will be real” He laughs, god I hate seeing him like this.

The doctors come in to check on him while we all wait outside his room. When they leave my dad makes a signal, telling us he wants to go in by himself. He doesn’t fully close the door , I rest my ear so I can hear what they are talking about.

“Thank you, son” he says

“For what, sir?” I can’t hear his voice clearly.

“For taking care of her, for protecting her everyday, since the first day you started dating. You are a good boy Munson” I smile to myself. “ You are welcome to the Hopper family”

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #stranger things #i am an eddie munson simp and im proud #stranger things s4 #stranger things vol 1 #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie x y/n #eddie x you #Eddie muson fluff #eddie munson blurb

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johnsamericano · 3 years

Text

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥 •2•

Hi hi! I'm back with another chapter. This one might not be as good(?, it's a really fluffy chapter so bear with me.

warnings: sugar daddy jae, he's a big baby, tooth rotting, kinda long.

sugar rush m.list.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv @sunny-nyu @nanascupid @silent-potato

“Sir, there’s a girl asking to see you.”

“Hey, I’m not a girl!” He chuckled as his finger pressed the button to communicate with his secretary.

“Let her in.”

Only a few seconds later, your head was peeking through his door.

“I brought you coffee.” You extended your hand out, showing him the carton containing two iced drinks. “Are you busy?”

“Not at all, come in.” You sat on the elegant, individual sofa in front of him, his desk serving as a separation. “Are you here to spy on me? Don't you trust me with your father's case?” He pouted, typing something in his keyboard while your palms started sweating.

How could you not trust the man with the highest case winning index in the whole country?

Briefly, after your encounter with the other lawyer, you'd googled him as well as his company. Because of his incredibly high fees, he didn't have many clients, but those few who had enough money to cost him were almost assured to be on the winning side. So then, why hadn't an excellent lawyer like him popped up when you'd first looked for popular firms? Simple, he wasn't popular.

Just like a hidden gem, only a few had the pleasure to know Yoonoh, and you felt beyond grateful for paying that stupid membership weeks ago.

“No, no!” You were quick to defend yourself, frantically shaking your hands to support your previous statement. “Just wanted to be of help.”

Truth to be told, after receiving your first weekly allowance, an unsettling feeling had been squeezing your heart ever since. Call it guilt or whatever, but it didn't set right to be receiving si much help from him when you hadn't had the chance to do anything in return. The least you could do was trying to be polite.

“You shouldn't be spending your money on me. I'm the one supposed to spoil you, remember?” He grabbed the plastic container by the lid, sipping the bitter liquid with an amused smile. “But thank you.”

“I paid my rent yesterday.” You blurted out, trying to avoid the uncomfortable silence threatening to settle between the two of you. “And I still have money left to save for my father's hospital bills, maybe even buy a present for my aunt.”

He admired how noble you were, making sure those around you had enough before even thinking to do something for yourself.

“I have a party this Friday, would you like to attend with me?” Your presence wasn't required as it wasn't a big event, but by the look in your eyes, he knew you were itching to do something in return for his kindness.

“Yes, of course!” Your orbs sparkled with excitement, finally feeling yourself useful.

“If you don't mind waiting, we can go buy something for you to wear right after I finish with this.” For what seemed like the tenth time in less than ten minutes, small beads of sweat rolled down the back of your neck. Thank God he wasn't able to see them. “Oh, come on, don't give me that look!”

“You’ve already done so much for me. I can buy the clothes myself, don't worry.” With a deep sigh, Yoonoh rose from his chair, taking long strides to surround the desk separating you. “W-what are you doing?” Now kneeling on the floor beneath you, his face was dangerously close to yours, coffee breath crashing against your nose.

“Using mind control to convince you to let me take you out.” He stared at you for a couple more seconds before saying: “Is it working?”

“I think your mind control is broken.” You whisper, unable to hold back the small giggles bubbling at the back of your throat.

“How about now?” He batted his eyelashes, trying to act cute despite his bold features. You shook your head.

Just as you thought it was over, his hand went up to cup your jaw, his thumb drawing uneven figures on the ticklish skin.

“How about now?” He repeated. You stammered, unsure of what to say. “Sorry, that was inappropriate.” Aware of your awkwardness and the rising heat in your cheeks, he stood up, walking back to his chair. “But I do want to get you something, would you let me?”

With your mind busy and your guard low, you nodded, unaware of the silly smile on his face.

“I have a few novels on my shelf in case you want something to kill time.”

“Thank you.” You moved to the huge bookshelf facing his desk, grateful your face wasn't visible anymore.

The books were ordered by genre and size, starting from the biggest law-related textbooks to pocket-sized novels, ending with the smallest one he had. The little prince.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Yoonoh didn't seem to be the type to read that kind of heartbreaking yet beautiful book. Nonetheless, as many said, you can't judge a book by its cover.

An hour or two later, you were halfway into the first book of flowers in the attic, immersed in the small world the author had created. Yoonoh had finished his work a few minutes before, but distracting you when you were reading so vividly, seemed like a crime. He enjoyed the way your eyebrows would knit together every time something shocking happened, clearly too immersed in the novel to notice his intense gaze.

“Y/n...” He whispered once he noticed you were starting a new chapter. You blinked twice, hands clutching the book tightly as you noticed he had finished his work. “You can take it home, don't worry.”

“Sure?” He flashed his pretty dimples as his eyes turned into half-moons.

“You can come back for the rest of the saga when you finish this one. Take as many books as you please, I’ve already read them all.”

“Thank you.” Another act of kindness you had no way of returning. His favors just seemed to be piling up before you could even return any. “Would you like to have dinner with me today? I'm a great cook, or so did my father said.” You blurted out quickly, twisting your hands nervously as you waited for an answer.

“I’d love to. But I might have to attend some work calls if you don't mind.”

“I don't, maybe I'll even have time to bake a cake while you're at it.” God, how bad he wanted to take a picture of that adorably nervous smile.

“Great, so it's settled. Dinner at your place after we go shopping.” He had already put his blazer on, offering his arm to guide you out. With shaky fingers and sweaty armpits, you grabbed it, walking by his side with his secretary’s gazed glued on you. So much for a girl, huh?

Once seated in his car, with the book resting on your lap, you allowed yourself to relax. Yoonoh wasn't a bad person, on the contrary, he was very kind, so there was no use in keeping your guard up when he was around.

“Ready to roll?” You cringed at his use of slang, making him drop his head back to laugh. “What? Isn't it a thing you cool young adults say?”

“Maybe twenty years ago, Yoonoh.” It was the very first time you used his name so informally, and, oh how good it felt to hear you saying it?

“Fine, I won't use it anymore.” He poked your arm like a little child, and for a moment, you wondered if he was actually more than a decade older.

Several bad jokes, two dresses, and a quick stop at the grocery store later, you arrived at your apartment. Yoonoh held everything while you entered the passcode, struggling not to drop a can of vegetables that was starting to bend the edge of the paper bag.

“Ready, hand me something.” You both entered with your hands packed with different things. You went to your room to leave the new dresses while Yoonoh set the paper bags down on the kitchen counter.

“So...” He clapped loudly. “What are we cooking?”

“I bought the ingredients for lasagna. Is that okay with you?” He nodded, lips pressed and dimples in display. “Alright, let's do this.”

It would've been of great help if Yoonoh had told you he didn't know how to cook. But of course, part of the fault was yours for not noticing when he tried to add ketchup to the recipe.

“I burnt it.” He looked at the semi-carbonized pasta with disgust, feeling ashamed of having ruined your dish. “Let’s just throw it away and order something.” He was about to touch the hot container until your grip on his wrist halted his movements.

“We just pulled it out of the oven.” You shook your head in disbelief at the man standing in front of you.

“Sorry.”

Despite Yoonoh’s endless complaining, you ate the lasagna. The flavor wasn't that bad when you scratched off the burnt parts, especially when accompanied by a cold glass of wine.

“It’s not that bad.” You repeated over and over again. A phone call interrupted him from self-pitying any further. “Go on, take it.” You continued eating while he spoke in the living room.

It wasn't until a couple of minutes later that you realized he was whisper yelling at whoever was on the other line. It was your first time seeing him angry, and you didn't like it one bit. The way his face turned completely stoic, his eyes cold as his hand rested on his hip. Sweet, caring, Yoonoh was gone.

“I told you I needed it for today.” He said through gritted teeth. “You better get it before I arrive back at the office, or you can find yourself another job.” Even after he hung up, Yoonoh stood in the middle of the shared area, clutching his phone so tightly, it seemed like it would break any minute.

You wanted to ask if everything was alright, if he needed any help, but most importantly, if the things he needed were related to your father's case, but all the words stuck to your throat like insects in a spider web.

“I need to go.” He simply said, not even bothering to fake a smile. “Thank you for dinner, I'll see you on Friday.” With his free hand, he grabbed the coat hanging from his chair and left, slamming the door on his way out.

Was that the real Yoonoh?

A shiver ran down your spine. What had you gotten into? From what you'd seen, it was only about time he would show his true self to you as well.

All the trust you'd built up during the day, had crumbled down in a matter of seconds. The worst part? You didn't even feel entitled to be scared, not after all he'd done for you.

‘Just keep your distance.’ You repeated like a mantra as you got ready for bed, leaving the book you'd borrowed right where he'd left it, afraid it would burn your fingertips even with the slightest touch.

(...)

The week wasn't nearly as long as you'd wanted it to be, and soon enough, you were struggling to zip the dress you'd bought days ago. Your makeup was done, and Yoonoh had texted you he was on his way, yet, you'd been fighting with the zipper for at least ten minutes. Your fingers were cramping, and the clock was ticking.

Just when you'd finally started to drag the small piece of metal, the doorbell startled you, causing you to let go of it.

“Fuck!” Have you ever felt so desperate that tears start pricking your eyes? Well, that was the exact case happening at the moment.

You opened the door with the salty water collecting at the corner of your eyes, surprising Yoonoh, who was wearing his best dimply smile.

“What’s wrong?” He had a bouquet poorly hidden behind his back, probably to apologize for the night he abruptly left and almost knocked down your door.

“I-I can't zip up my dress.” Your voice came out shaky, giving away the emotions burning your gut. Thankfully, Yoonoh didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he didn't mention it.

“I’ll help you.” He, not-so-discretely, put down the bouquet, gently turning you around to your discomfort. His cold hands touched your back as he dragged the zip up, noticing how tense you were but deciding not to comment on it. “Oh! You haven't moved the book from where I left it.”

“I haven't had time to read.” He hummed, crouching to reach for the bouquet and hand it to you. “Thank you.”

“It’s my way of apologizing for the fit I threw a couple of days ago.” A fit? That was one way to call it.

“It’s okay.” You lied as you pushed the corners of your lips to form a credible smile. “Let’s get going.”

The flowers were left on the kitchen counter before you left. The ride in the elevator was awfully quiet, and Yoonoh had no idea what had happened. You were so chatty the last time he saw you, so of course, he was taken aback by the sudden change.

“It’s not going to take long, so we can head out for some drinks later if you'd like...” You nodded, for you knew speaking would only expose your discomfort. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah! Just nervous about the party, that's all.”

You stood by Yoonoh’s side for the rest of the evening, smiling and nodding at his acquaintances’ comments. At one point in the evening, a man, not much older than you, approached you both with a wide smile.

“Dude, I hadn't seen you in ages. Stop sending your workers and come see me yourself.” They hugged. Why were they hugging?

“Y/n, this is my brother, Sungchan.” The man with puppy-like eyes embraced you tightly, almost as if welcoming you to his family. “Sungchan, this is y/n, my girlfriend.” He said it so naturally, it’d take a detective to figure out the truth about your relationship.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. I'm sorry for your father. But don't worry, we'll take those bastards down.”

“I’m not following...” You blinked repeatedly, eyes going back and forth between Yoonoh and his brother.

“Sungchan is a doctor. I asked him to look at your father's case for further evidence. My assistant was supposed to pick up the report the day we had dinner, but she forgot to drop by. Now we’re a day behind schedule.” The dark cloud surrounding him seemed to be slowly dissipating as you heard his explanation. “This is an important case, and I want to be as meticulous as possible.”

Thank you didn't seem the right thing to say at the moment, at least not with Sungchan standing there, so you simply grabbed his hand, squeezing it to let him know how grateful you were.

To your surprise, he didn't even flinch as he locked your hands together, causing a small giggle from Sungchan.

“Okay, love birds, I'll get going.” He waved you goodbye, making his way to another table where his friend waited for him.

“Can we talk?” You whispered in his ear, afraid one of the numerous attendants would hear you.

“Sure.” Without letting go of your hand, he drove you to a small, private garden just outside the ballroom. “Are you gonna tell me what's wrong now?” His thumb caressed your knuckles with gentle strokes.

“I’m so sorry.”

“What for?”

“I pushed you away at the minimum trouble when you were only helping me.” He hummed as if he already knew about it. “And it will probably happen again, so please, be patient with me. I'm going through-” Your face collided against his chest as his arms draped over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly.

“Call me reckless, but I've wanted to do this for a while.” Your hands hung at the sides of your torso, unsure what to do next. “You can push me away, I'll understand...”

Instead, your palm found its place in his back, rubbing up and down the designer jacket. Your hair started turning messy from the night breeze, some strands striking Yoonoh’s chin as his embrace only grew tighter.

“Let’s get out of here.” He mumbled, crawling the back of your head with his hand. “Sungchan can deal with my father's friends.”

“Are you sure?” His hum vibrated through his chest, making you giggle at the odd feeling.

Once seated in his car, his hand found yours like a magnet, the warmth emanating from it comfortably enveloping your skin.

The calmness of the atmosphere was interrupted by a call from his brother, who seemed to be anxiously explaining something through the phone.

“Just tell him I had a work emergency.” With that said, he hung up, placing his hand back again on top of yours. “Sorry, he said it was urgent.”

“It’s okay.” An unsettling feeling pinched your stomach, but you decided to dismiss it, immersed in the chilly weather of the dark streets.

You arrived at the river, where Yoonoh asked you to wait for him while he bought a couple of beers. It was a sight to see, both of you clad in fancy clothes, barefoot and chugging down can after can.

“I think I like being with you.” You declared, mind fuzzy from the alcohol intake.

“I think I like it too.” The tips of his ears were rosy, revealing he was as intoxicated as you, maybe even more.

“Would you like to visit my father with me tomorrow?” The words flew out of your mouth before you could even realize. Afraid you'd killed the mood, you tried to excuse yourself, only to be interrupted by his lips grazing your ear, placing a timid kiss on your lobe.

“I’d love to.” It was the sweetest peck, no ulterior motives behind it, just pure affection.

“Are we going too fast?” In your drunken state, what you had felt like a real relationship, not a simple agreement. And this sure felt like a first date.

“We’re moving at our own pace, I believe.” He dropped his head on your shoulder, pressing against it to relieve the dizziness clouding his mind. “Are you okay with that? Maybe you don't want to be with an old creep like me, and I'd totally get it. Just don't let me get my hopes up if that's the case.”

“You might be old, but definitely not a creep.” Your fingers combed through his abundant hair as your mind wandered into the future, grateful for the fact that he wouldn't become bald soon. “Or are you?”

“I don't think so.” Anyone who walked by would've seen a couple of goofs, too intoxicated to talk without slurring the words, but you were living in your own, comfy bubble. “I should get you home before it gets too late. Come on, I'll call a driver.” He tried getting on his feet to no avail, stumbling back a little before falling back on his ass.

“My apartment is nearby. You can stay for the night.” You grabbed both pairs of shoes as his arm surrounded your shoulder for assistance. “If you keep supporting your whole weight on me, we're both gonna fall.” People on the street shot you a couple of funny looks, which was understandable since it wasn't usual to see two drunk idiots walking barefoot in the middle of the night.

“How long till-” Hiccup. “-we get there?” His stare seemed to worsen with every step. “God, I think I might throw up.”

“Stop acting like a teenager, we're almost there.”

As soon as you arrived at the small apartment, you sat him down on the little step where you changed your shoes. You left both pairs on the rack, proceeding to put on slippers to enter the house.

“Don’t leave me here!” He whined, stomping his feet like a little kid.

“Just wait for a second!” His attitude was starting to get on your nerves to the point where you couldn't feel the effects of the beer anymore.

You grabbed a rag from the kitchen cabinet and dampened it under the sink. Yoonoh was half asleep when you walked back to him.

“My head hurts.” He mumbled as you sat in front of him, placing his left foot on your lap. “What are you doing?”

“I don't have any slippers that will fit you, and I don't want your dirty feet making my house dirty.” With utmost delicacy, you wiped away the dirt from his toes, noticing the small scratches caused by the gravel he walked on.

He touched your hair while you finished with his other foot, tangling the strands with fascination.

“Done, get up.”

He followed your indications as you guided him to your room, where you laid him down on his side in case he threw up.

“Are we visiting your father tomorrow?” He asked while snuggling under the covers.

“Sure.” You cleared his forehead from the strands falling in it, grazing the soft skin of his forehead. “Sweet dreams, gigantic baby.”

#nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios #nct 127 #nct angst #nct fluff #nct jaehyun #nct jung yoonoh

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spencersawkward · 3 years

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hi i love your writing sm, could u do something w having sex w mgg in his trailer🦋

oh yes i can most definitely do that. i just did a blurb that included something similar but i have a whole other fantasy for this one that i think would be so hot. this is just like filthy smut i might have done a lil too much lol.

summary: reader goes to visit her friend, Matthew, on set. when he catches her doing something dirty in his trailer, he offers to help.

word count: 4.2k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, masturbation, dirty talk, face-sitting, degradation, Cocky Matthew, some semi-exhibitionism.

masterlist

my toes curl over the sheets and I let out a dissatisfied groan as I throw the abandoned vibrator onto the side table. ever since flying home from visiting friends in New York, I’ve been absolutely, embarrassingly... horny.

usually, my trusty toy is able to work wonders; this week has been rough, though. maybe it’s something to do with my stress-levels or maybe my body just doesn’t feel like cooperating. it doesn’t help that I have about an hour before I’m scheduled to visit my friend on the set of his show.

I haven’t seen Matthew in almost a year. between his shooting schedule and my own job getting more demanding, spending time together really hasn’t been possible. I miss his laugh and the way our conversations always flow so easily. whenever we hang out, it’s like we pick up right where we left off. and now, as I give up on trying to get one off before seeing him, I start to wonder what to expect. a tour? meeting his castmates?

to be completely honest, I don’t really want to do any of that. I’m sure they’re all very nice people and we’d have a good time, but the last week in the city was so full of group interactions that I’m really hoping to sit across from each other and just... talk.

there’s no point in speculating, though. instead, I glance over at my disappointing toy and sigh. maybe next time.

when I get there, Matthew texts me to wait for him so he can bring me to his trailer. everyone is bustling around, moving according to their own chaotic schedules. a couple golf carts occasionally roll through the space, toting actors and other personnel. it’d be overwhelming for anyone who isn’t used to it.

“Y/N!” Matthew’s voice cuts across the din of the set as he waves. he’s leaning out of the side of a golf cart that he’s driving, which makes me nervous as he pulls up to me. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as he stops the cart and hops out to wrap me in a hug.

he smells good, like expensive cologne and cool air. as he withdraws, he sets his hands on my shoulders and grins at me.

“you look great! how are you?” as usual, he’s talkative. I smile back, though, and take in his appearance. he’s always been handsome, but right now Matthew is looking especially good: the breeze has swept his curls, he’s got on a colorful button-up short-sleeve with parakeets on it, and there’s some stubble growing on his face that’s new. he looks older, more mature.

kind of sexy.

“I’m really well. cool ride you’ve got.” I nod to the golf cart and Matthew laughs.

“you wanna know a secret?” he smirks. I raise my eyebrows and he leans down a little to reach my height. “I’m not supposed to drive that.”

“how’d you get it?” I frown. knowing him, he probably managed to charm his way around the rules, but I’m sure there’s a funny story behind it as well. he’s full of weird anecdotes.

“one of my cast mates distracted the guy who runs the warehouse where they keep them.” he winks, then gestures for me to follow him. I slide into the passenger seat and before I can really process what’s happening, he’s swerving in a wide circle and speeding off.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he practically yells over the sound of the motor. “but I know you’ve been busy.”

“yeah, I actually just started writing for this new show.”

“you’re downtown, then?” he glances over with a smile and then we’re slowing to a stop. an enormous trailer sits among rows of other enormous trailers, presumably for his cast mates. he turns off the cart and turns his body to face me while I talk. zeroes in on me in a way that makes my stomach flip.

“for right now, yeah.” I can’t help the smile. it’s been a while since I’ve worked in Los Angeles; I was working as a writer on one of Matthew’s independent films when I got an offer in New York and decided to relocate. and even though it was amazing there, I missed California sunshine and I missed him. we were inseparable before I left.

“so, what I’m hearing is that you’re now legally bound to hang out with me.” he grins in that dazzling way of his. I laugh and nod, climbing out when he does. he opens the trailer door for me. “I have to go back to work in about twenty minutes, but afterwards I wanna take you to dinner.”

“oh, I could have come later. I’m sorry.” I turn to apologize, but he’s quick to wave it off.

“it’s fine. as long as you don’t mind spending an hour in here, it shouldn’t be too torturous.”

I peer around the space, noticing the little ways in which Matthew has made this place his own: aside from all the complimentary gift baskets and notes, the trailer is occupied by strange trinkets that he’s collected, random books and notebooks that scatter the couch and what looks like an attempt at a desk.

“wow.” I say. he sidles up next to me, sighing and realizing that it’s a bit cluttered.

“sorry about the mess. I haven’t really had time to clean up.”

“no, no, I meant ‘wow’ in a good way.” I walk over to the couch and sit down, patting the spot next to me. he smiles, pushes an acting theory book out of the way, and sinks into the cushions a safe distance from me.

“tell me about this job, then.” he immediately starts. I shrug.

“it’s nothing huge, just a teen drama. everyone I work with is brilliant, though.”

“that’s amazing. have you had a chance to work on your art?”

I think back to all the times when Matthew and I would spend free afternoons doing doodle competitions of the crew, usually on random scripts. they were judged by other cast mates, anyone who would take the time to look. I don’t think I was supposed to be on set as much as I was, but it was worth it.

“I wish. my schedule is so busy now, I barely have time to make dinner for myself.” I laugh. he leans back into the corner of the couch, resting his arm on top of the back. I pull one leg beneath me and mirror his actions.

“that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing some new stuff.”

“I don’t think any of my co-workers would particularly enjoy the representations I do of them.”

“sour sports.” he says. the strangeness and vehemence of the sentiment makes me snort and I glance at the notebooks around the room.

“how about you? any new masterpieces?”

we go on like this for a while, just catching up and slipping into our inside jokes and memories as if they aren’t from a different time in our lives. although I was excited to see him today, there was a lingering nervousness about it going as planned. sometimes you try to reconnect and the spark is just... gone. but Matthew is still Matthew, and I’m still me.

he ends up leaving to go shoot sooner than I can believe, time passing quickly, and tells me to feel free to read any of his books or look through his sketchbooks. he never hides anything, and it’s admirable.

once he’s gone, I settle onto the couch with a used Ray Bradbury anthology that I found beneath a bag of sour candies and start to read.

my mind wanders, however, as I try to concentrate on the page. I think about how Matthew looks now, how the stubble makes his jaw even more defined. those wide, hazel eyes that always seem to glitter with enthusiasm. I don’t know if I’m still frustrated from the unsuccessful session with my vibrator earlier, but the thoughts begin to turn over in my mind and mingle with other ones.

there were moments with him that I remember, quiet ones where we’d be about to say goodnight or moments where he’d fall asleep on my shoulder in my apartment, where I’d look at him and consider the possibility. we get on so well, and he’s arguably one of my best friends. distance hasn’t changed that. there are things I would tell him that I haven’t told my other friends.

and when he’d brush against my skin, or grab my arm to get my attention, and my imagination would run wild. heated kisses and closed doors. finding the way to my bed in the dark, his hands on my waist while he crawls on top of me. things that never happened but that I imagined as if they were real memories seared into my mind.

and now, sitting in this trailer with this book and on this couch that smells like him, those feelings return like something lost, then found: rushing, feverish, overpowering. the images come in a flux, his weight on top of mine and his teeth dragging over my tits. on this couch, that’s all I want.

there’s a blush on my cheeks as I drop the book on the floor and undo the button on my pants. it won’t take me long; I can feel how wet I’m getting and I haven’t even thought that much about it. the pent-up excitement from earlier will overtake my senses. he said I have an hour, and this might take ten minutes tops.

as my fingertips brush over my panties, I close my eyes and imagine they’re his. curious, gentle, teasing before reaching below the waistband and cupping me. I whimper, starting to trace over the wet folds of my entrance with an eager hand. it feels good, right, and the heat of my body tells me that this time, it’ll work. my head is full of thoughts of him, and I dip a finger in, clenching around the digits. the heel of my palm presses into my clit and I moan, starting to work myself.

I imagine Matthew coming in here after he’s done and kissing me like he’s wasted enough time waiting; like he can’t wait another second to be with me. my pace quickens at the memory of his hands, veined and strong and sure, pumping into me. taunting me.

“Matthew...” I whine, removing my fingers to circle my clit with a hurried pressure. every second burns across my skin, reminding me that what I’m doing is wrong. I shouldn’t be touching myself in his trailer while he works, especially not when he’s coming back soon.

but it’s hot, too, and the rhythm I create is impossible to resist. I switch between fingering and toying with my bundle of nerves while clenching my free hand in the couch cushion. my eyes are squeezed shut as I get closer to orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening with every moment.

“o-oh my god,” I hum. “Matthew--”

the sharp intake of breath makes my entire body freeze. my eyes fly open to see the bastard himself standing there, lips parted. he can’t seem to figure out where to look: my face, which was just contorted in pleasure while I moaned his name, or my pussy, which is almost completely on display now that I’ve managed to push my jeans down to my knees.

“oh my god.” I stutter, immediately removing my hand and sitting up. my cheeks are on fire and everything around me seems surreal. this can’t be real. “y-you weren’t supposed to be back for an hour.” I say stupidly. shit ton of luck that hour did me.

“we, uh, wrapped early.” he averts his eyes, then glances cautiously at my face. “I promise I walked in here before I knew. I never meant--”

“no, it’s fine.” I pull up my jeans, still too shocked to make any sweeping movements. he doesn’t seem quite sure what to do with himself, and I speak to break the silence. “sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wonder what you’d have done with an actual hour.” he says it like he’s attempting to lighten the mood, then winces as he realizes that he shouldn’t have said that. “sorry, bad joke. I’m just-- surprised.”

“Matthew, I’m so sorry--” I start. there’s literally no other direction to take this conversation. I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship within the span of a few seconds.

“were you saying my name?” he asks, eyebrows slightly raised. I would like to sink into the floor and never come up again, I think.

“well, the thing is--” I take a deep breath. “I don’t normally, um... do that in people’s trailers?” my frown makes him smile a little as he relaxes. now that I’m fully clothed, he doesn’t seem so daunted. I scoot up on the couch and glance between the open spot and him to get him to sit. standing only makes it weirder.

he obliges, watching me pull my knees into my chest before I start to explain. guilt is building in my chest now, so much more real after being caught.

“I don’t wanna make this even more awkward than it is, but I feel like I should make it clear that there’s a reason why I was doing it in here and I’m not some freak who, like, contaminates people’s space. like, I was just gonna be super quick about it and be done because-- and now I’m justifying it, which is even worse--”

“hey, Y/N, relax.” Matthew reaches out and touches my wrist, his fingers soft as they pull my attention to his. when I finally muster the courage to look him in the eyes, he’s got a small smile on his face. “I’m not mad or anything.”

“okay.” I sigh, spine going a little less rigid.

“you were moaning my name, though, right?” he smirks. my eyes widen.

“don’t get too cocky,” I try to play it off. “I haven’t been able to get off for the past few days and I only tried it to see if it would work.”

“looks like it did.” he glances between my flushed cheeks and the hand that was playing with myself, which is now sitting on my jeans. how is he being so fucking smooth right now?

“whatever.” I turn my face away, knowing that anything else would be damning.

“are you still... frustrated?” he asks. his voice is low. my face snaps up, jaw dropping. one of his hands is covering the crotch of his jeans, trying to hide something.

“why?”

“I can help you out. only if you want to, of course.” he says this in complete seriousness. my gaze passes over his features once again to make sure I’m not absolutely dreaming. every line in his face, the intensity of those pretty irises, feels too real to be fake.

“like...” I think about his hands, about what he’s offering. it’s heavier than just sex, but also maybe not. it doesn’t have to be; we’re adults. our friendship wouldn’t be shattered by one encounter.

“like I’ll eat you out right now and fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” we’ve moved closer on the couch, our faces inches apart while he says it so quietly that I wouldn’t hear it otherwise. the way he licks his lips, stares at me, tells me that we’ve already passed the point of no return. there’s no use in holding back anymore.

“mhmm.” I nod. if I say anything more, I’ll reveal more than he wants to know. that I’ve wanted this for a while, even though I tried to forget the way he makes me feel.

“come here, then.” he beckons me forward and I impatiently crash my lips to his. he responds immediately, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling me to him. he’s greedy, but not in a way that overwhelms. like he’s trying to enjoy the moment. his nose brushes my cheek when he deepens the kiss, my hands looping around his neck. he begins to bite on my lower lip, tugging to get me to moan. I let him explore me, those features that he’s seen so many times but has never touched.

we’re hopeful in our embrace, and my mind feels like spring and how I imagine the earth feels when it’s in full bloom. excitement in my veins as we get more heated. when his fingers unbutton my jeans, he pulls away to take a moment.

“sit on my face.” he breathes out, feverish. I nod, getting up to shrug off my jeans. he watches, licking his lips when I pull down my panties and step out of them, then take off my top and bra. he leans back as if to sink down onto the couch for me, but I shake my head.

“take off your clothes first.” I tell him.

“you wanna see me naked?” he knows the truth, but wants me to say it. the smirk on his face makes me annoyingly aroused. I just start to go for the buttons on his shirt.

“yeah, I wanna see you naked.” I reply. this makes him grin and he helps me out by working on his jeans. we strip him down and then we’re both there, looking at each other.

“c’mere, beautiful.” he grabs my hip and pulls me closer until I get on the couch and position myself. he lies down flat, gesturing for me to scoot up his chest until my core is right above his face. “perfect.”

I’m about to poke a little fun at him for being so confident when he reaches up, wraps his hands around my thighs, and pulls me down against his face.

I yelp, overwhelmed by how he moans against my heat and starts to eat me out. his tongue moves expertly, lapping at the wetness that’s gathered between my legs before teasing my entrance. I release a series of noises that are downright sinful, but the red marks he’s leaving in my thighs tell me he’s loving my reaction. his nose brushes against my clit and I start to roll my hips against his face, falling apart already as he switches between sucking, licking, and sliding his tongue inside me. I grip onto his hair, mumbling like a prayer.

he takes the opportunity to quickly slap my ass before returning to my thighs, burying his face and working with a divine acuity. I can’t believe how good it feels, throwing my head back and arching my spine while I hold my tits. Matthew moves my hand and massages one while he stares up into my eyes, lust evident in every sound and motion.

“Matthew, please--” I gasp. “don’t stop.”

he groans, running his nails down my stomach while I ride his face. I’m needy for him, only uttering his name and more pleas for his tongue. and the sensation of him holding me down like he can’t get enough makes the knot from earlier return easily. I lean back a little, swirl my hips, and then it comes like a white-hot wave.

“oh my god—“ I can barely get it out, moving with abandon. “it’s so fucking good.”

he lets my body slow to a reasonable pace, drawing out the high until I’m swallowing all the air I can get and pull myself away from him. Matthew’s grinning, mouth glistening while he sits up a bit.

“such a wet little pussy.” he tells me, licking his lips. I’m pretty much resting on his chest and I start to move off of him when he quickly straightens himself, wraps his arms around my waist, and pushes me so I’m laying on my back at the other end of the couch with him leaning over me.

I brush his curls out of his face, appreciating the hunger in his face. he craves more of me, and the erection he’s pressing into my inner thigh is proof. I look up at him.

“you’re good.” I concede. he shrugs, smiles. butterflies.

“I just think about it a lot.” the response is simple, but it’s the right one. I blush and he grabs his dick, pumping it a few times before lining it up at my entrance. I search his eyes, those widened pupils, as he shoves into me.

“shit.” he moans, jaw dropping once he’s reaching the hilt. “give it to me, baby.” I can feel him deep inside, cock twitching against my walls as he settles. one of his arms is over me, supporting himself on the arm of the couch, while the other holds my waist.

I don’t speak, only bite down on my lip and whimper through the initial shocks of him. it isn’t until he pulls out that I get more vocal. he starts to roll his hips, never breaking eye contact while I arch my back and moan.

“harder.” I whisper. he tightens his grip on me and slams himself inside. my body instinctively moves up away from the pressure, but he brings me right back down.

“is this what you were thinking about?” he breathes out. “me fucking you like a slut?”

I nod urgently, but he uses an index finger to tilt my face back to his.

“tell me who you belong to, little slut.” his tone is low, laced with lust when he bites his lip and watches my reactions to his cock.

“you.” I whine quietly, grabbing his shoulders for stability while he plows into me.

“louder, sweetheart. you were plenty sure before.” he mocks, pausing after to moan in my ear like he’s absolutely losing it. he roughly tugs me further against him and the sensation makes me cry out.

“y-you-- fuck!”

“c’mon, baby.” he pants. we’re definitely rocking this trailer with the way he’s ramming my body right now. I can feel him like he’s in my ribs.

“Matthew, oh god--”

“show me how you cum, Y/N. lemme see you fucking break.” the final word is punctuated by him bottoming-out within me, his noises their own stimulation to my senses. I’m trying to breathe but it’s so hard with all the thoughts firing in my brain. he doesn’t go easy on me.

“I’m cumming.” my hips jerk up into his, pussy fluttering like it’s trying to push him out. but the tension only makes him thrust harder, further, chasing his own release as I claw at his back and squeeze my legs around his torso.

“can I fill that tight little cunt up, baby?” he moans into my ear, our bodies like undulating waves. I nod and buck against him, which drives him mad as his thrusts get sloppier. we’re filthy together and it’s otherworldly. “good girl.”

he lets out a whimpering sound while he stills inside my body and cums. I feel him twitching, shooting his load into me. I’m writhing while I clench around him, both of us falling apart. for all his cockiness, he’s lovely when he’s orgasming-- mouth open, eyes rolling back into his head before focusing intently on my face, a sheen of sweat that glows on his cheekbones.

when he finally withdraws, leaving me naked and panting on his couch, his eyes run over my body appreciatively.

“that help?” he smirks as he straightens. I glare at him, kneeing him in the ribs, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, giving me a tender look. “I’m joking. are you okay?”

“more than okay.” I smile. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, closing and opening his mouth as if debating whether or not to say something else.

“you’re really beautiful, you know that?”

“thanks.” as if this man hasn’t already fucked me senseless, I blush, look away shyly. he grabs my clothes from the floor and hands them to me.

“do you want some water?” he’s worried about giving me space. there’s a question lingering between us that I’m afraid to ask, especially now that he hasn’t. Matthew has always been the more bold between the two of us.

“uh, sure.” if it means he takes his eyes off me long enough for me to regain my bearings, yes. I watch him pull on the rest of his clothes before standing and going over to his mini-fridge. I’ll need to clean up soon.

“so...” his voice is measured, hazel eyes slipping over my form.

“so.”

“dinner? and then breakfast?” he suggests. my eyebrows raise at the second question, one that he hasn’t mentioned until now. the implication makes me laugh.

“you think you’re getting this again?” I try to act nonchalant, as if I’m not already imagining it.

“oh, wait--” he frowns, hesitates. “that’s not what I meant.”

“what did you mean?” there’s a grin taking over my face, hopeful as I await his response. I guess we’re about to answer that question after all.

“I wanna finally take you on a date.” he smiles softly, surprisingly shy. I don’t even hesitate to answer.

“I’m in.”

#mgg smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler #rpf #criminal minds #mgg oneshot

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axwalker · 2 years

Text

Road Trip

Thanks to @mskaneko for the AMAZING edit on the mood board. I was so excited to use it!!! I love it ❤️❤️❤️

Book: TRR

Pairing: Drake x Alexis (MC)

Synopsis: After an awkward first encounter, Drake and Alexis become best friends. They spend all their summers together until something happens in year ten. Will they be able to get over it? Or is their friendship forever doomed?

WORDS: 3,500

A/N: For reasons, almost all chapters are in Alexis’ POV

Warnings: I write a very stubborn very blind pairing!! Sorry!

2009. Eleven summers ago

Sometimes, I cross paths with Drake around on campus, but we don’t speak again until the day after freshman year ends. It was my best friend, Maxwell, who set the whole thing up. When he gave me his friend’s name and number to coordinate our meetup the idea that his friend could be the same Drake didn’t even cross my mind; mostly because Maxwell was the most outgoing, social human being I’ve ever met. But when I come downstairs to find him waiting by his green jeep at the time we’d previously agreed on, it’s obvious from his steady, uncomfortable expression that Drake was expecting me. He’s wearing the same shirt he had on the night I met him, but somehow, I’m not surprised.

“It’s you,” I say eying his car.

He ducks his head, flushes. “Yep.”

Without another word, he walks toward me and takes my suitcase and the duffle bag from my arms, loading them into his back seat. The first sixty minutes of our drive are awkward and silent.

“Do you have an aux cable?” I ask, trying to figure out how to hook my iPod to his truck.

“Why?”

“Because I want to see if I can hang myself if the traffic doesn’t improve,” I joke. “Why do you think? So we can listen to music.”

Drake’s expression hardens even more. “While we’re stuck in traffic?”

“Um,” I say. “Yes?”

“What are you planning to listen to, O’Brien?”

O’Brien? Ok, then.

“I prefer to know what we'd be listening to because I can only tolerate so much Lady Gaga in one trip.”

“Interesting. You like Lady Gaga.”

“I don’t”

I smirk. “Oh but you do, you just implied that you tolerate her a little.”

He just stars at me. “Sorry but no music until we’re out of the city. It distracts me.” His tone is final and it’s his car so I shut my mouth. These are going to be the longest 10 hours of my life.

I slump back in my seat, return to staring out the window. Drake makes a self-conscious throat-clearing sound like he wants to say something. I turn expectantly toward him.

“Yes?”

“Would you mind … not doing that?” He tips his chin toward my legs, and I realize I’m shaking my left leg. I draw my hands into my lap, then catch myself tapping my feet.

“I’m not used to silence!” I say, defensive when he looks at me. It’s the understatement of the century. I grew up in a house with two big dogs, a Mexican mother who thinks yelling is whispering, and an abuelita who found the eternal background noise of Mexican telenovelas “soothing.” Sitting silence in traffic with someone I barely know —feels wrong. “Shouldn’t we get to know each other or something?” I ask.

“I just need to focus on the road,” he says, the corners of his mouth tense.

“Fine.”

Drake sighs as, ahead, the source of the congestion appears a minor accident. Both cars involved have already pulled off the road, but traffic’s still stuck.

“Of course,” he says, “people just slowing down to stare. Fucking vultures.”

He opens the center console and looks around until he finds the cable. “Here,” he says. “You pick.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You might regret it.”

His brow furrows. “Why would I regret it?” I glance into the back seat of his truck. The jeep is old yet spotless. Somehow it smells exactly like he does, sandalwood, cut grass, and something deeply manly, deeply … him. He has a motorcycle helmet on the back seat and an open bag with a soccer ball. Other than his t-shirt, he’s wearing jeans, black Timberlands boots, and a leather jacket.

“You just seem like maybe you’re a fan of … I don’t know. Hard metal?” I point out. “And I’m not sure I have the kind of music you like.”

The furrow of his brow deepens. His mouth twists into a frown. “Maybe you don’t have me as figured out as you think.”

“Really?” I ask. “So you won’t mind if I put on Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas Is You?”

“It’s June,” he says.

“I’ll consider my question answered,” I say.

“That’s unfair,” he says. “What kind of a psychopath listens to Christmas music in June?”

“And if it were December eleventh,” I say, “what about then?”

Drake’s mouth presses closed. He tries to smooth his messy hair but the minute his hand stops raking through it, a rush of static leaves it is floating. His whole focus is on the road and for a minute I wonder how it would feel to have all that intensity turned on me.

“Fine,” he says. “I don’t like Christmas music. Don’t put that on, and we should be fine.”

I plug my iPod in, turn on the stereo, and scroll to Amy Winehouse “Stronger than me.” Within seconds, he scowls.

“What?” I say.

“Nothing,” he answers.

“You look like Bambi when the hunter shot hit his mom.”

He squints at me. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You hate this song,” I accuse.

“I do not,” he says unconvincingly.

“You hate Amy Winehouse.”

“It’s not her particularly,” he says.

“Then what is it?” I demand. An exhale hisses out of him.

“All the humming and the babbling.”

“The what?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I just … really hate that. Any song with shit like that on is instantly ruined. Even if it’s Amy Winehouse.”

“Are you for real?”

“Name one song that was improved by humming,” Drake challenges.

“I’ll have to consult the notebook where I keep track of every song where the singer hums.”

“No song,” he says.

“I bet you’re fun at parties,” I mumble but somehow he hears me.

“I’m fine at parties,” he says.

“As long as the singer doesn’t hum,” I say.

He glances sidelong at me. “You’re really into that shit?”

“No, but I’m willing to pretend if you’re not finished ranting. What else do you hate?”

“Nothing,” he says. “Just Christmas music and singers that hum. And covers.”

“Covers?” I say. “Like … book covers?”

“Covers of songs,” he explains.

I can’t help but laugh. “You hate covers of songs?”

“Fervently,” he says.

“Drake. That’s like saying you hate fruits. It’s too vague. It makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he insists. “If it’s a good cover, that completely respects the original song, then, why fucking do it in the first place? And if it sounds nothing like the original, then, why the hell destroy a perfectly good song?”

“Oh my god,” I say. “You’re a 70-year-old man trapped in a twenty-something-year-old body.”

He frowns at me. “Oh, and you just like everything?”

“Pretty much,” I shrug. “I tend to like things.”

“I like things too,” he says.

“Like what, soccer and tons of whisky?” I guess remembering our first meeting.

“I certainly have no aversion to either,” he says. “Why, are those things you hate?”

“I told you,” I said. “I like things. I’m very easy to please.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means …” I think for a second. “Okay, so, when I was little my favorite thing was going to the old cinema downtown and picking a movie randomly.

I knew that even if it was the most ridiculous plot ever, I would go anywhere the movie wanted to take me, even if that is watching a spy in a fitted suit balance between two speedboats while he shoots at bad guys.”

Drake’s gaze moves between the road and me a few more times. “Portavira Cineplex?” he asks, a repulsed expression framing his eyes.

“Yes. The one and only.”

“The one where the theaters are always mysteriously flooded?” he seems horrified. “The last time I went there, I hadn’t made it halfway down the aisle before I heard splashing.”

“Yes, but it’s cheap,” I said, “and I had my rain boots. Real cool ones too with rainbows on them.”

“We don’t even know what that liquid is, O’Brien,” he says, grimacing. “You could have contracted a disease.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m alive, aren’t I?”

His eyes narrow. “What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“What else …” “… do you like?” he clarifies. “Besides seeing any movie, alone, in the cold, flooded theater.”

“You don’t believe me?” I say.

“It’s not that,” he answers. “I’m just fascinated.”

“Fine. Let me think” I look out the window just as I see an airplane flying through the sky. “Airports. I love how they connect people, cities, faraway places. Love the possibilities you have at an airport. The encounters and reunions. I haven’t been able to travel as much as I’d like to, but every time that I have to go to one I love—ooh!” I interrupt myself as it dawns on me. The thing I hate. “Team sports! I hate playing at them. I got a C in gym class in high school because I ‘forgot my gym clothes at home so often.”

The corner of Drake’s mouth curves, and my cheeks heat. “Go ahead. Make fun of me for getting a C in gym. I can tell you’re dying to.”

“It’s not that,” he says.

“Then what?”

His faint smile inches higher. “It’s just funny. I love team sports. It’s how I got my scholarship to Cordonia U.”

“What are you talking about? College is free in Cordonia.”

“Yeah, but they cover all my expenses. I don’t have to pay for housing or food.”

“Max told me you worked at O'Connell, next to campus.”

“Yeah, I—I need the money for something else.” He doesn’t offer any more explanations and I don’t ask either.

“So, you hate the very concept of cover songs yet love being smacked around fighting for a soccer ball and running for ninety minutes?”

“I should’ve guessed that you hate football.”

“I love football. Go, Barca! I just prefer to enjoy it while I drink a six-pack and a bag of Hot Flammin Cheetos, thank you very much.”

“I can get that,” he says, his smile still mostly hidden in the corner of his mouth, “I hate when people call boats ‘she.’”

A laugh of surprise bursts out of me. “You know what,” I say, “I think I hate that too.”

“So it’s settled,” he says.

I nod. “It’s settled. Referring to boats as girls is hereby forbidden.”

“Glad we got that taken care of,” he says.

“Yeah, it’s a load off my chest. What should we eradicate next?”

“I have some ideas,” he says. “But tell me some of the other things you love.”

“Why, are you studying me?” I joke.

He shakes his head amused. “I’m fascinated to have met someone who is in love with a flooded old theater, so sue me.”

For the next two hours, we trade our interests and disinterests like kids exchanging football cards, all while my driving playlist cycles through on shuffle in the background. If there are any other songs where the singer dares to hum through it, we don’t notice it.

I tell him that I love watching videos of families reuniting on YouTube, even if they always make me cry. He tells me he hates seeing people walking around without shoes on the hallways of his dorm and displays of affection in public. “Feet as much as feelings should be private,” he insists.

“You need help,” I tell him, but I can’t stop laughing, and even as he shares his strangely specific dislikes for my amusement, he keeps smiling every time I laugh at one of his complaints. Like he knows he’s grumpy but doesn’t care. Like he doesn’t mind at all that I’m making fun of the things he hates so passionately. I admit that I hate both Portavira and jocks, because why not? We both already know the truth: we’re two people with no business spending any time together, let alone spending an extended amount of it trapped in a Jeep. We are two fundamentally incompatible people with absolutely no need to impress each other. So I have no problem saying, “Jeans just make a person look like they’re void of a personality.”

“They’re durable, and they match everything,” Drake argues.

“You know, sometimes with clothes, it’s not a matter of whether something can be worn but whether it should be worn.”

Drake shakes the thought away. “And as for Portavira,” he says, “what’s your problem with it? It’s a great place to grow up. Lots of nature. A wonderful beach, a lake, the forest.”

This is a more complicated question with an answer I don’t feel like sharing, even with someone who’s going to drop me off in several hours and never think of me again.

“Portavira is a complicated place, I never really found as I belonged there,” I say.

He only nods as if he understands how delicate the subject is for me. That I don’t want to talk about it.

Drake tells me he hates themed parties and despises dressing up. Pointed shoes and bow ties. When you show up somewhere and an old friend says “They’ll let anyone in here!” People who never tip. For men who use so much gel on their hair, it seems like they’re wearing a helmet. Sweater vests, on anyone, ever. Shiny clothes. People who use selfie-sticks. Instagram.

Instagram?

“Too fake,” he says and that settles it.

“I love Halloween parties, and dressing up,” I tell him.

“Of course you do,” he says. “You’re good at them.”

I squint at him, put my feet on the dashboard, then take them back down when I see he frowns. “Are you stalking me?” I ask.

He smirks “Please, I was just curious to know if you had met your rich movie producer.”

I can only laugh at that. “Are you making a joke, Walker?” If I’m O’Brien, then he’s a Walker.

He only shrugs. “How do you know I’m ‘good at’ themed parties? I’ve seen you at one party, and it was a regular college party.”

“It’s not about that,” he says. “You’re just … always sort of in costume.” He hurries to add, “I don’t mean in a bad way. You’re just always dressed pretty …”

“Great?” I finish for him.

“Confidently,” he says.

“Wow, the best-backhanded compliment I ever heard,” I say.

He sighs. “Are you misunderstanding me on purpose?”

“No,” I say, “I think that just comes naturally for us.”

“I just mean that for you, it seems like a themed party might as well just be a Monday. But for me, it means I stand in front of my closet for, like, two hours trying to figure out how to match a football jersey and a pair of jeans so they fit on a themed fucking party.”

“You could try … not buying your clothes in bulk,” I suggest. “Or you can just wear your jeans and a matching shirt with a hat and tell everyone you’re going as a cowboy.”

He lifts his eyebrows but otherwise ignores my comment. “I hate the decision-making of it all, and if I try to go buy a costume it’s even worse. I fucking hate malls. There’s just too much. I don’t even know how to choose a store, let alone a style. I have to buy all my clothes online, and once I find something I like, I’ll order five more of them right away.”

“Well, if you ever get invited to a themed party where you’re sure there will be no people with bare feet, PDA, or bow ties and so you’re able to attend,” I joke, “I’d be happy to take you shopping.”

“Are you being serious?” His eyes move from the road to me. It started getting dark out at some point without my noticing, and Nina Simone’s mournful voice is singing out over the speakers now, her song Feeling Good.

“Of course I’m serious,” I say. We might have nothing in common, but I’m starting to enjoy myself. A lot. All year I’ve felt like I had to be on my best behavior like I was auditioning for new friendships, new identities, a new life. I know I have a strange need to please people but strangely, I feel none of that with him. He accepts me just like I am. Plus … I love shopping.

“It’d be great,” I keep talking. “You’d be like my living Barbie doll.” He shoots me an offended look so I laugh. “Ok, ok, Ken doll.” I lean forward and turn the volume up a bit when Paul McCartney starts singing Hey Jude. “Speaking of things I love: this song.”

“This is one of my karaoke songs,” Drake says.

“What??” I snort but from his chagrined expression, I quickly understand that he’s not joking, which makes it even better. “I’m not laughing at you,” I say fast. “I actually think it’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” I can’t tell if he’s confused or offended.

“No, I just mean …” I stop, roll the window down a little to let a breeze into the car. I pull my hair up off my sweaty neck and tie it into a messy bun. “It’s just hard to imagine the bow-tie/ PDA/ Humming song hater loving karaoke. You’re just …” I search for a way to explain it. “Not who I thought, I guess.”

His brow creases. “Who did you think I was?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Some jock from Portavira.”

“I am some jock from Portavira,” he says.

“Some jock from Portavira a who sings ‘Hey, Jude’ at karaoke,” I correct him, then devolve into fresh, delighted laughter at the thought.

Drake smiles at the steering wheel, shaking his head. “And you’re some girl from Portavira who sings …” He thinks for a second. “‘Hip’s don’t lie’ at karaoke?”

“Only time will tell,” I say. “I’ve never been to karaoke.”

“Seriously?” He looks over at me, wide, unfiltered surprise on his face.

“I know! And I love singing. I just never had the opportunity I guess.” I say.

“We should go. Sometime this summer.”

“Okay,” I say, as surprised by the invitation as by my accepting it. “That’d be fun.”

“Okay,” he says. “Cool.” So now we have two sets of plans. Shopping and karaoke. I guess that makes us friends.

A car speeds up behind us, pressing in close. Drake, seemingly unbothered, puts on his signal to move out of his way. Every time I’ve checked the speedometer, he’s been holding steady precisely at the speed limit, and that’s not about to change for one small tailgater. I should’ve guessed what a cautious driver he’d be. Then again, sometimes when you guess about people, you end up very wrong. Like how the brooding, steady man next to me loves karaoke.

As the beautiful vineyards from Castelraillan show up before us my shuffling playlist moves nonsensically between Marc Anthony and Elton John and David Bowie and Shakira.

“You really do like everything,” Drake teases.

“Except team sports, Portavira, and jean shirts,” I say.

He keeps his window up, I keep mine down, my hair flying around my head as we fly over flat country roads, the wind so loud I can barely make out Drake’s deep rendition of Queen’s ‘Don’t stop me now’ until he gets to the chorus and we belt it out together in horrendous matching voices, arms flying, faces contorted, and ancient Jeep’s speakers buzzing. At that moment, he is so intense, so funny, so absurd, it’s like I’m looking at an entirely separate person from the brooding, stoic boy I met at that Orientation party. Maybe, I think, Brooding Drake is like a coat that he puts on before he walks out the door. Maybe this is Naked Drake. Okay, I’ll think of a better name for it. The point is, I’m starting to like this one. A whole lot.

“What about traveling?” I ask between songs.

“What about it?” he says.

“Love or hate?”

His mouth presses into an even line as he considers. “Hard to say,” he replies. “I’ve never really been anywhere. Read about a lot of places, just haven’t seen any of them yet.”

“Me neither,” I say. “Not yet.”

He thinks for another moment. “Love,” he says. “I’m guessing love.”

“Louis,” I say quoting my favorite movie, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

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wienerbarnes · 3 years

Text

A Certain Romance (6/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,609

Warnings: happy ending😁

A/N: another series in the books... hope yall enjoyed it as much as i did<3 thank u to everyone who liked/reblogged/left comments/read in general!

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

Seven months go by before he sees you again.

A month after that double date, Sam asked about you, about what the two of you have been up to. He realized then that you hadn’t told Sam anything about the fight. You hadn’t said anything. You hadn’t said you’d “broken up” or even just came clean and explained the whole thing. You went on pretending the two of you were dating; did you do it to keep Sam off your back? Did you do it because you thought that’s what he would’ve wanted? He didn’t care about any of that, all he cared about was you.

He told Sam himself about a month after that. He told Sam everything, about making the deal with you, how you were both feeling about the dating situation. He told Sam about the nights at your apartment, the meals shared, the stories told. He explained the fight that happened the night of the double date and how he’s still trying to get over his feelings.

Sam hasn’t set him up on another blind date, and he assumes he hasn’t set you up on one, either.

Five months after that conversation, he thinks he’s getting better. He thinks about you everyday; how you’re doing, what you’re doing, if you think of him. The only difference between now and seven months ago is that he doesn’t feel the same pain in his chest when he thinks about you.

For a long while it made him so sad, the thought of not being able to talk to you, not being able to see you, not being able to drop by your apartment and share dinner with you. But as much as it pained him, it was what you wanted. You wanted time and you wanted space, so that’s what he gave you.

He misses you, though.

He finds himself in your neighborhood as he approaches the coffee shop he’s been frequenting since he met you. You had gotten him coffee from there once and had him hooked. Perhaps he goes there because the coffee really is that good or because it was you that had showed him the place in the first place. He doesn't think about it.

He walks in and stands in the small line at the counter, not quite taking the time to observe the place and see every single person there as he normally would.

After ordering his regular coffee and placing the change from the ten dollar bill he gave the barista into the tip jar, he stands off to the side to wait for his name and order to be called.

And all it takes is a look to his left to see you sitting there, already staring at him with a surprised expression, for all his progress to disappear.

You look so beautiful.

He stares at you for a second, mouth slightly open before his tongue pokes out to lick at his now dry lips. He clears his throat and stands up a bit straighter to compose himself, or at least make it seem like he’s done so.

“Hi.” He says, a tad awkwardly, but in his defense, he wasn’t expecting seeing you here. He’s come to this same coffee shop in your neighborhood at least once a week for months now, and has never run into you here, even when you were on speaking terms. Of course he’d see you today; he should’ve worn a different shirt.

Your mouth opens to respond with a greeting when Iced black coffee for Bucky interrupts you. His head snaps towards the counter to retrieve the drink before walking slowly back over to where you sit at the counter against the wall.

“Hi.” He repeats again, the only word he seems to be able to say right now.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” You ask him, voice gentle and light, just as he remembers it always used to be. He’s glad that you’re not upset at the scenario of running into him, instead welcoming the interaction; a much better play of this happening than what he was thinking in his head.

He wasn’t sure how the first interaction after not seeing each other would be like, or if there’d be one at all; if he’d ever even see you again.

He was hoping for the movie reunion, spotting each other from a long distance and running into each other’s arms in slow motion, an 80′s love song playing in the background. He feared it’d take an opposite direction, you spot him from afar and walk up to him only to slap him across the face and spit on his shoes. He’d have nightmares about that last scenario.

Neither of you say anything for the first couple of minutes of your walk.

“I’m sorry for how I treated you that night.” You finally speak.

“You have nothing to apologize for -”

“No, Bucky, I do. I should’ve spoken to you about everything, even if we got angry, even if we yelled, but instead I ran away, and I’m sorry.” You tell him.

A moment to take in your words, “Well, apology accepted.” He forgives.

Another minute of silence. He’s not sure how to proceed. While an apology was given, nothing’s actually been resolved. There’s still tension, still wondering of what you’ve been up to all this time, still his own feelings for you that he realizes now after seeing you again for the first time in seven months have not dissipated at all and are very much real in his heart.

He sees in his periphery that you’ve stopped walking on the nearly empty sidewalk and he stops, too, turning around to look at you, a worried expression on your face.

“The truth is I was scared.” You say.

“Of me?”

“Of my feelings.” You clarify.

You inch a bit closer to him, “I was growing feelings for you, and that scared me.”

All he can do is stare as you open your mouth to continue.

“I told myself that I wouldn’t put myself in a position to be too vulnerable. I wouldn’t open myself up as much to people, I wouldn’t get into any more relationships, I wouldn’t do any of that because the last time I did, it fucked me up. And I know you’re nothing like him, but it still scares me shitless. It scares me that you waltzed into my life and made me feel this way in such a short amount of time. It scares me that you made me want to forget all those promises I made to myself. It scares me that you made me want all of that; that you made me want you.” You explain.

He takes a step closer to you so that you’re face to face and you can smell his cologne.

“I want you, too.” He whispers, unable to find the words to say anything else.

You look up at him, “It’s going to take a lot of time, and - and a lot of patience -”

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it all for you,” He promises, the hand that’s not holding his coffee reaching up to cup your face, your free hand laying on top.

He slowly leans in, wanting to kiss you; he’s been wanting to kiss you for seven months. He feels your breath on his lips as you speak again, “Please take care of me.” You tell him. It’s not a question, but a plea.

“I promise.” He whispers back, finally touching his lips to yours, and putting every emotion in it.

A single press of your lips to express how much he missed you, how much he’s thought about you, how much you’ve thought about him. How many times each of you came close to calling the other, unaware of the hope waiting for them to reach out. How many times he dreamed about you, dreamed about taking you out, about kissing you and touching you, about talking to you and wanting you to talk back, if only to listen to the vibrations of your voice in his ears.

Oh, how he missed you.

An afternoon he was planning to spend filling up his time with pointless tasks as a distraction is instead spent holding you in the bed in the back room of his apartment. The soft sheets and plush mattress not all that bad when he has you in his arms to share it with. Embarrassing confessions of how much he’s thought about you, including his breakdown of smashing your plant, which he can now laugh about. Tears shed as more apologies are shared among both parties, love sprouting in the place of fear of a new relationship.

How lovely it is to have you. To have a person he can be authentic with, tears and anger and happiness and laughs included. To have a person who he can take away their troubles and insecurities knowing they will do the same. A feeling he never thought he’d feel; a feeling he always assumed was reserved for the version of James Barnes that never got drafted into the army, the version of James Barnes that survived the fall and went home, or the James Barnes that never fell at all. He never thought he’d find the puzzle piece for his heart, but here you are.

It was a certain romance for two people who never thought they were deserving of love, who thought it just wasn’t in their cards. Maybe in a past life, or a future one, but not this one, not in the lifetime they just happen to be present in at the exact same time.

Perhaps it was a certain romance, or perhaps it was fate, acting through Sam Wilson on that night in that pretentious restaurant.

Which reminds Bucky, he should call his friend and thank him.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #marvel #so cute #sad its over

157 notes · View notes

ererokii · 3 years

Note

Heyyyyy, so I just finished the Aot 2 game and was kinda messed up by the ending... sooo in honor of that, could you possibly write something about the reader sacrificing herself to distract the Titans so that everyone can get away safe and she doesn’t come back for a few years? I’d prefer something with Jean but it’s completely up to you! Thanksssss

Thank you so much for requesting, I had a fun time writing this and I hope you love it!

For those that don’t know, this is based off of the Attack on Titan 2 game! This contains some spoilers from the game!

Year 3, 850

Three years of intense training are now behind me as today is the long-awaited graduation. Unfortunately, I could not come in the top ten, but Shadis believes that I have potential. My goal from the beginning hasn’t changed. I plan to dedicate my heart to the Scouts and take out the armored titan myself.

Y/N

XX, 850

Reiner and Bertholdt escaped, and we were able to retrieve Eren and Ymir. Not long after the fight with them, we gained insight that Wall Sina has been breached. This is it. Now or never. The battle to keep our human race alive was at stake. I will not let defeat take over my body.

Y/N

Jean’s eyes scan over the series of letters in the journal that belonged to an assumed fallen comrade. Every day for the past three years, it has always been the same routine.

Get up, train, socialize with comrades and read this journal.

By now, he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have memorized the whole book. Each inked word seemed to lose its meaning, and its color as the pages began to fade away, just like his hope did.

The tips of his fingers grazed the rough sheets of paper, a lump forming in the back of his throat. No matter how many times he has read this, he can never shake off the dull aching pain in his heart when he realized he had looked over the last entry once again.

Currently, he’s sitting in his room, the window open that allows the cool breeze to wash over his body. Goosebumps form on the nape of his neck as he shifts his attention to the walls in the distance. The moon took its place in the sky, the light shining down on the walls as if it were mocking him.

His tongue peeks out and swipes across his lower chapped lip, hoping that the wetness is enough to moisture them. His fingers continually flip through the pages after the last entry, staring down at the blank pieces of faded white sheets.

The vivid images replay in his mind on the day Wall Sina was breached. Reiner, Bertholdt, and the Beast Titan were all there. The Beast Titan was a surprise to everyone. Out of all the battles, Jean has fought, this one was by far the most blood-curdling. The thought of humanity dying out on that field was enough to ignite a feeling in all the soldiers.

When Eren and the rest of the scouts defeated Reiner for the second time, there was enough time to take Annie’s crystal back to an underground cellar. But because it weighed more, the horses were at a disadvantage.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jean likes to think that you survived. Maybe you were residing in the new buildings of Wall Maria once the scouts took it back. Perhaps you didn’t want to be apart of the Scouts anymore— then maybe you would be safe.

The slamming of the door catches his attention as the sound of pants and coughs are heard.

“Jean!”

“What, Connie?” He sighs and slicks his hair back. “What could you possibly want at this hour?”

“S-Someone’s approaching headquarters! I think it’s Y/N!”

His body grows cold at the sound of your name. “Y/N..?” He whispers underneath his breath, thinking that his mind was playing games. “How are you so sure?”

“The person is wearing the Scout uniform with no horse! We haven’t been scouting outside! It has to be her! It can only be her!”

“That has to be impossible,” he stands abruptly from his wooden chair, stalking towards his comrade. “She’s dead.”

“Weren’t you the one who told us to have faith?!”

“I did. A year ago. It’s been three years, Connie. She’s not coming back.”

“Jean,” he whispers, unsure if he heard right. “We all know you were heartbroken when she sacrificed herself but—“

“She’s gone, Connie!” His arm swings out as his fist collides with the wall, a surge of pain shooting through his arm. “Because I couldn’t help, she’s dead! We were useless! Maybe we should have let Reiner take Annie back so she would be here! But she’s dead!”

His voice cracks as a lump grows in his throat, limiting the use of words. His nails dig into his palms, nowhere near, causing the amount of pain he felt within his heart.

Only a few minutes pass as Connie leaves his friend alone, not wanting to upset him further.

Jean’s mind begins to flood with the memory of your departure. His eyes are squeezed shut as the clear liquid runs down his face, damping the wood of the desk underneath his arms that rest under his head. His grown out hair sways slightly from the cold air that sent shivers down his spine.

“The horses can’t go as fast with that big thing in the cart! There’s just too much weight!” Connie yelled out as he and Jean steered the horses forward as Titans trailed from behind.

You, Mikasa, Eren, and the crystal that held Annie sat in the cart. The horses ran at top speed. Your fingers gripped the leather of the journal, nails pressing against the material.

Your eyes are trained on the hoard of Titans that seem to get closer and closer by the minute.

“Any minute, they’ll be on us!”

“I know that, Connie!” Jean grunts and glances over his shoulder. The determination in his voice washes away as his eyes widened, face growing pale as he watches you slide the journal into Eren’s hand as he lies unconscious.

He was no fool to know what you would do. The air is knocked out of his lungs as the faint noise of the gear rings in his ears. It’s like he’s living in slow motion. His mouth opens as he screams out for you, begging to keep you on the cart.

Your alluring eyes bore into his own as your lips curve into a small smile, mouthing something to him as a hook shoots out from its confinement and into a tree, shooting your body forward.

A hoarse sob leaves his mouth as he sits up, covering his face with his hand as his shoulder shakes violently. Jean can feel himself washing away from reality and falling into the deep void that was his heart as he cries. Each waking second he knows he’s becoming insane.

As harsh as reality was, the man wanted to live in his fantasy world, where you were still aliv—

“Jean..”

His body stifled as he heard the sound of a voice he knew by heart and loved dearly. His pupils are wide in shock as he stares forward at the walls' chipping paint in his room.

“Impossible,” he trails off in a whisper, hands beginning to shake in uncertainty. “It’s impossible..”

“Jean...turn around,” you whisper into the tense air, walking forward as the creaking of the floors alerted him of your presence. “Please?”

“Maybe I have finally lost it,” his voice comes out in a lower octave as he runs his hand through his hair. “I guess that’s what I get for not sleeping.”

“Jean, it’s me!” You plead as you place your hand on his shoulder, feeling how tense he was under your fingertips. “It’s me..Y/N.”

“No, she’s dead. I saw her leave us. You aren’t even here. You’re just a figure of my imagination to make me feel better so I won’t wallow in my pity.”

Your heart aches at his confession as you suddenly wrap your arms around him from behind, burying your head in his neck as your hair tickled at his exposed skin. “I’m home now, Jean,” your voice cracks as tears well up, the liquid hitting against him. “I’m back..”

“How can you?” He questions, relaxing upon touch. From a face showing sorrow, it shifted into one of seriousness. “I s-saw you leave us. You can’t be alive..it has to be a joke.”

“I survived Jean..can’t you see?” You press your cold hand against his warm cheek, feeling his warmth radiated off of his face. “I’m here..flesh and blood. I’m alive...I came back to you.”

Jean tilts his head to gaze up at you; his mouth parted as he gazed into your eyes. All the words he had to say now left his mind as his lips became parched, peeling his tongue out to lick them. “You are here..”

“I am!” You laugh through the tears, cupping his face in your hands. “I was in a shelter in Wall Rose. I was injured for a long time before I was able to return here.”

Words couldn’t express how the boy was feeling, only actions. He abruptly wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing you flush against his body. “You’re here now..”

All of his worries and hidden thoughts could now be thrown out the window and buried deep underneath the earth, a place he would never have to reach. You were alright, alive and breathing.

And especially in Jean’s arms.

#jean kirschtein x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstien x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #attack on titan imagines #shingeki no kyojin imagines #jean imagines #jean kirstein #jean kirstein imagines

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Air

Our first story on Day 1 comes to you by @zurisenchantedquill !

Title: Air Author/Artist: zurimadison Pairing: Romione, side Hinny Prompt: Rock Concert Rating: Teen, borderline Mature? Trigger Warning(s) (if any): bit of snogging :)

Full disclosure, I was inspired by the song "Stay Next to Me" by Quinn XCII and Chelsea Cutler

______

Ron

“You have ten minutes,” Ginny says, smacking her gum as she stares at me. “Harry will be here soon.”

I don’t move from my seat on the couch. “So let me get this straight, not only are you forcing me into going to this concert tonight, but you also invited your boyfriend to my flat?”

“You like Harry.” She checks her phone. “Nine minutes.”

I do like Harry, but I’m not going to admit that to her right now. I try a change of tactics. “I had plans tonight, Gin. You can’t just show up unannounced and expect me to drop everything to go out with you.”

“Laundry is not a plan, Ron,” she says, texting furiously as she plops on the other end of the couch. “Mum says I need to get you out of the house because you’ve been moping since your breakup, and I knew that if I gave you warning, you’d find an excuse to bail.”

I can’t help but wince, reminded of both the recent end to my relationship and the correct assumption that I’m hiding away because of it. “I just need some me-time right now.”

She looks at me, cheek lit by her phone screen, and smirks. “Eight minutes.”

Whoever said Weasleys are pushovers has never met my little sister.

Actually, probably no one has ever said that.

I sigh and stand, making my way to my bedroom to change.

“Comb your hair or something, while you’re at it,” she calls. “You look a mess.”

“Thanks Gin,” I yell back, but then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sheesh, she wasn’t kidding.

Seven minutes later, dressed and groomed enough to be presentable, I set off down the road with my sister and her boyfriend.

“Go on then, who are we seeing tonight?”

“The Black Keys,” Harry answers, grinning. “I’ve been dying to see them for ages.”

I’ve never heard of them before, so I ask, “what kind of music is that? Rock?”

“Technically, more Indie Rock,” Ginny answers, and I can’t stop the small snort that escapes me. She shoots a glare that very clearly warns me not to take the mickey, so I hold my arms up defensively and clear my throat.

“Oh, sounds...erm, fun.” It’s lame, but Harry nods and starts rambling about his favorite songs. For all my trouble, Ginny graces me with an approving quirk of her eyebrow. Thanks Sis.

The venue is close to my flat, so it isn’t long before we’re through the doors, pushing our way into the crowd.

It feels like even less time before Ginny is snogging Harry, their bodies swaying in time to the music as her drink slops unnoticed on their shoes. They break apart every now and then to sing a lyric or two, then they’re right back at it.

I try to ignore it as I down my beer, but the venue is so congested that I’m constantly jostled into them. Not that they even seem to notice, mind you, but as much as I don’t care what Ginny does on her own time, it’s another thing entirely to literally have it shoved into my face.

My bottle is devastatingly empty, so I mutter an excuse and snake away through the crowd, not finding it at all dispersed as I move further from the stage. I spot a bar in the back corner and fight my way over to it, feeling like a hero returning home after battle when I’m able to place my order with the bartender.

It happens as I’m waiting for my beer. I glance down the length of the bar, more out of idleness than anything else, and I see her.

She’s got dark curly hair that’s highlighted with honey, a red strapless dress that could bring a man to his knees, and, unless I’m much mistaken, she’s holding a book in one of her hands as she leans across the bar to be heard above the music.

I am struck with the impulse to know the color of her eyes.

She seems to be alone, and is the only person in the venue actually sitting on a stool. I’m not altogether surprised when, after receiving her drink, she opens her book. She’s so absorbed in her reading that she doesn't notice the people bustling around her. She doesn’t even look up when the bartender hands a drink to someone over her head.

It takes me two more beers, alone in the corner, watching this woman who has such impressive focus, before I work up my nerve. There’s a small opening in the crowd, so I decide it's now or never and throw myself through it. I slip to her side and deliver the almighty line that I’d been working on for nearly twenty minutes.

“Whatcha reading?”

I honestly expect her to ignore me or maybe genuinely not hear me, but to my surprise, she looks right at me.

Brown. Her eyes are chestnut brown, with a dark ring around the outside. They appraise me before the corners of her round lips turn upwards almost imperceptibly. “Treasure Island.” She has to shout to be heard above the music.

“No way,” I exclaim, bemused. “That’s one of the few books I’ve actually read! Isn’t it crazy that Ben had the treasure the whole time?”

“He what?” Her eyes go wide as she gazes at me, slack jawed. “Seriously?”

“Wait, you didn’t know?” I ask, clapping a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry, I thought-”

“Just kidding,” she interrupts me, then begins to giggle at what I can only assume is my idiotic expression. “I’ve read this a million times.”

Her laugh is infectious, and I silently swear to make her do as much of it as I can. I lean against my forearm on the bar and turn sideways so I can view her better. Something about the way she’s looking up at me makes me feel brave. “What’s your name?”

“Hermione.”

“Ron.” I extend my hand. She slips her tiny palm into mine. I shake it, but then I don’t let go.

A drunk patron knocks into me, pushing me closer to her. I can almost see down her dress, I’m standing so close. “It’s too crowded in here,” she shouts as she glances over her shoulder. “So many random bodies pressed together.”

“We should go somewhere.” I’m not sure what’s gotten into me, but I don’t mind it when she rewards me with a tiny smile.

“Where? Outside?”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Your choice. I’ll follow you.”

She surveys me, looking as though she’s deciding. “Aren’t you going to miss the show?”

“No,” I laugh. “I don’t know this band at all.”

“Me neither,” she admits. She’s nearly knocked off her stool by a surge of the crowd around us, and this seems to seal the deal. “Ok, let’s go.” She stands and winds through the crowd, never releasing my hand.

_____

Hermione

I lead my tall, red headed stranger to the back patio, feeling instant relief in the cool night air as we step over the threshold. The music is much less loud out here, and it’s not as crowded. I drop his hand as I perch myself on the patio railing, sighing in contentment as my overstimulated senses are satisfied by the calming change in environment.

Ron flags a server for us, so I take the opportunity to examine him while he orders. He’s broad in the shoulders but narrow in the hips, though the shape is flattering in the way his t-shirt pulls across his chest. From underneath the material on his left arm, a full sleeve of tattoos runs enticingly to his wrist, leaving me with a burning desire to see the obscured designs.

Tattooed and bearded. Just how I like 'em.

The server leaves and he turns his gaze back to me, reminding me of the thing so far that I like the most about him.

His eyes.

They’re almost turquoise-y blue, and seem to ripple like water. That alone would be sexy enough, but there’s something about the way they make me feel. They’re...kind.

He leans his back against the railing where I’m sitting, close enough that my leg is brushing his arm. “So, did you come to this show tonight because you like a little background music while you read?”

I laugh. “No, my friends dragged me here with them, but I lost track of them pretty much the moment we arrived. Hence, this.” I hold up my book. “What about you? You said you don’t know the band either.”

“Nah,” he agrees. “I was also forced to come out tonight. But, I don’t fancy watching my sister snog her boyfriend all evening so…” He shrugs. His hair moves gently in the night breeze.

“Well look at us,” I say. “A couple of third wheels.”

The server comes back with the drinks: two shots of whiskey and two beers. I thank him as I take mine, and Ron raises his shot glass.

“Left your boyfriend at home, then?” He’s holding the whiskey expectantly, smirking while he waits for my answer.

I roll my eyes. “Very subtle.”

“Oh, you saw what I did there?”

“I did, believe it or not.” I hold my whiskey out as well. “To being single?”

It’s phrased as a question, and there’s a triumphant sparkle in his eye as he clicks his glass against mine. “To being single.”

“Cheers.” We throw back the shot. The alcohol hums just under my skin.

Ron doesn’t return to his previous position, but instead stands in front of me so that his stomach is against my knees. He places his free hand on the outside of my bare thigh, sending tingles down my spine. He meets my eye for a moment, as though asking if I mind, and in response I lean forward and place my free hand on his chest.

The full, lopsided smile I receive in return is worth it.

“What do you do for a living, Hermione?” His voice is gravelly now.

“I’m in microbiology,” I answer. “I work in a lab.”

“Wow,” he lets out a low whistle. “Smart and beautiful.”

I laugh again. “What about you?”

“I’m a nurse,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I work in the ICU.”

Somehow I understand the kindness in his eyes even more. I’m so distracted by looking into them that I accidentally spill some beer all over my lap. “Oh no, I’m sorry!”

“Watch yourself,” he says, laughing as he grabs a napkin and dabs off my legs. “Why is your drink so full anyway?”

“Yours is just as full,” I argue, offering my beer as evidence.

He looks between our two glasses and shrugs. “Maybe, but I can drink faster, so it doesn’t count.”

“How do you know that?” I demand, holding the beer up now as a challenge. “Chugging contest?”

His grin is evil and beautiful. “You’re on.”

“Three, two…” We both begin to drink as quickly as we can, though it becomes apparent to me that I’m quite outclassed. His Adam’s apple bobs distractingly and I reach out, tracing my finger down it before I can stop myself.

I freeze, my hand again on his chest, fingers grazing the skin above his neckline. When I meet his eye, he puts his glass on the railing and steps between my legs, wrapping his arms around me to bury his hands in my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss.

The way he feels is so distracting that I drop my own glass, still half full, on the outside of the patio, where it spills in the grass. I’m sure we could get kicked out of the venue for that, but right now I don’t care. I kiss my new friend Ron for all I’m worth. He tastes like whiskey and every flick of his talented tongue ignites tiny fires all over my body.

We snog for I don’t know how long, until we’re forced to come up for air. He doesn’t step away from me, but keeps his face close to mine as we pant.

“I can’t waste another second here, can you?” His whisper tickles my cheek.

I run the analysis, weighing my options even as my head spins from the snog. I grip his arms tighter. “We should go somewhere.”

His lopsided smile takes my breath away.

#chudleycanonficfest #chudley canon fest #hp canon pairings #hp canon romantic pairings #romione #side hinny #source: zurisenchantedquill

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xxxtrouvaillexxx · 3 years

Text

Let’s Strike a Deal

A/N: This is late, I know. If you have not realized from before, I’m really bad at meeting deadlines. Well, at least deadlines that I’ve created for myself to follow because I like to procrastinate things and frankly… what am I gonna do to myself? Band myself from tea until I’ve written a chapter? I don’t have the self control for that! And life is hectic. But you know, enough with my excuses and onto the story. Hope you enjoy. I always love feedback so please be sure to leave a comment! ALSO I wanted to give a TRY (key word) to first person. If I don’t like it... I might change it, idk. I should never write anything at 3am as per evidence below, especially without editing lmao

Pair: CEO!Tom x Reader

Synopsis: Y/N, the small town of Hawkshead girl trying to make her way in the big city of Westminster, London. Not as easy as she thought. When things start to take a turn for the worst one afternoon and only one man in the crowd of hundreds decides to help her, she does something rather uncharacteristic and gives her savor her number in case he could ever use help of his own. Course, she never expected for him to actually call her out on it.

Masterlist

Warning(s): none… yet. Cursing?

Word Count:

My time was limited. There was nothing left that had to be done here or anything left to pack. Everything I’ve ever owned sat in a car on the way to my new apartment and last of the suitcases were in the bed of my brothers pickup at this very moment while I sat on the floor of my room. There wasn’t anything left for me here, I knew that, but it was still difficult to say goodbye to the place that carried so many of my favorite memories and the imprints of my childhood that still were splayed around the surrounding room.

There were two dents in the wall right in front of me from when I was ten and hit my head after tripping on one of my toys, thumbtack holes that littered everywhere above the bed from forts that I would make with my brothers and friends, nail polish that was spilled on the carpet from times when I was too distracted with talking than keeping the bottle up straight, my engraved initials on the windowsill. The memories that I had made in this room were countless and they were all absolutely priceless.

“Y/N!” I heard your mother call from the living room, her voice was slightly hoarse from held back emotion and it broke my heart to hear her like that. “You got to get going, dear! You’ll miss your train if you wait much longer to head out.”

Taking a deep breath and slowly standing from the, now old, bed I made my way toward the door, feet dredging behind me and scuffing the floor as I walked out. “I know, Mama. I’m just-” the words caught in my throat and I was at a loss. “I’m really going to miss you guys so much.”

“Oh stop it, you’re gonna make me cry if you keep on like that,” She said giving a tight hug before pushing me out the front door. “You are going to love it in London so much you’re not even gonna be thinking about us here, so get goin’. Your brothers already waiting for you in the car.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her antics, “I love you Mama! I’ll call you when I get there!”

Jumping into the passenger seat of the truck, I waved final goodbyes from the window, dramatically blowing kisses as the car started to drive away.

“You better!” She exclaimed, watching as we pulled out and down the road.

“She is going to be a mess when I get back home. I can’t believe you’re going to leave me to deal with that alone!” Christian, stuck driving you to the train station much to his dismay, gave you a mocking glare. “After all the things I’ve done for your, this is how you choose to repay me? I’m pretty sure I’m getting the short end of the stick here,” he laughed humorlessly.

“Ahhh~” I cooed and smiled, “You’re only saying that cause you know you guys’ are going to be missing me so much!”

“Miss you?” He scoffed, “Yeah right. What we’re going to be missing is your baking. It’ll be the greatest blow our family has faced since 1824.”

I gave a scathing look, “And what, if I may ask, happened in 1824?”

“Don’t know, but something bad probably.”

»»-——————————————-««

I have never been so sore getting off of a bus in her life. The cheapest route to get to Westminster from Hawkshead was a train and 8 bus stops, totaling up to 10 or so hours in and out of vehicles. I groaned and stretched when my feet planted on hard asphalt for the first time in what seemed like forever. But, for all the soreness, I had made it to my destination with time to spare.

It was louder than I had imagined, crowded with traffic from all directions and people running any which way to get on with their lives. It was bustling and busy. Lively. Not exactly what I was used to which made me smile.

Wide.

I made it.

I only had a suitcase with me, the rest of her belongings would be delivered in a few days to the new apartment.

My apartment.

I was positively giddy at the thought.

It took a lot of self control to keep from skipping down the side walks while I somehow navigated the new scenery, but I managed to keep my excitement under wraps for the time being. Arriving an hour early gave me a bit of time to take in the bigger sites near by, like the Ferris wheel, the clock tower Big Ben, and my personal favorite- Westminster Palace and abbey. It was a dream of mine since I was little to see it in person, and now here I was standing mere blocks away from the grand building, elated and amazed.

Vibrating caught my attention and I barely managed to turn my eyes away from the sites in front of me to my phone, Kyra’s name popping up on the screen. My best friend and now room mate, Kyra Bardou, who was probably wondering where the hell I was now.

“Hey,” I drawled with an obvious grin I couldn’t even hide in my voice.

“Hey yourself! I’ve been waiting at the stop for 15 minutes with no sign of you only to learn you’re already in town and didn’t even bother to tell me!” She spoke so quickly I was shocked she didn’t run out of breath and laughed.

“I’m site seeing, sue me!” I turned and started making the slow walk back, “I’ll be back in a couple minutes, I promise.”

She only grunted in response and let me walk in a comfortable silence, letting me continue to take everything in while simply enjoying her presence on the line. It was the last few moments I’d get now, the last bits of my old life slipping through my fingers like sand in exchange for a new one.

And the chaos that comes with a big city.

Like robbers.

I couldn’t even let out a cry as I was shoved to the ground, my phone forced from my hand and my suitcase caught up in a strange mans arms. It took me a whole 5 seconds to get my bearings enough to yell at the man and give chase, shouting for help though no one so much as looked our way, just moved out of his.

“Stop!” I screamed, running but quickly losing him as he bobbed and weaved through the crowd skillfully. “Stop! Someone stop him!”

And this time, someone moved to action, running past me at an alarming rate and quickly gaining ground on my assailant before they both rounded a corner and I lost sight of them.

My heart dropped and I picked up speed again, hoping that I didn’t let them get far enough away for me to lose them completely, it would have been easy for them to get away from me here.

But when I turned around the block, I found the man on the ground with the track star of a man on top of him, already on the phone with I assume the police. I finally caught up to them and without thinking, hugged the man on the phone, a silent thank you while he spoke to whoever was on the line, before I gathered my things and hugging them close to me.

He smiled kindly, finishing the call and turning to me properly while still pinning the thief to the ground. “Are you alright miss?”

“Yes! Thank you so much, I’d have been completely lost without this,” I gestured to my luggage. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me get it back. I don’t even know how to get around town yet.”

He laughed and nodded. “So new to town then. It was my pleasure to help, though I was really just doing what anyone in my position would do,” he responded kindly.

Furiously I shook my head, “No, you didn’t. I don’t believe I saw a single soul other than you move to help. Unless you did but beat them to it at the last minute. Not that that it implausible, you are seriously fast on your feet.”

He laughed again and I noticed what a nice laugh he had, it was contagious and I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of my own now that my adrenaline was fading bit by bit. “Yes, well- I do enjoy the sport.”

“Dually noted,” I grinned, jumping a little when my phone started to buzz in my hands. Kyra’s name popping up on the screen again. “Shoot!” I exclaimed and answered. I wasn’t even able to put the phone to my ear before I heard her shouting my name on the line. “Kyra-”

“Oh my god, Y/N! What the heck happened, I heard you shout and then the line went dead! Are you okay? Did something happen? Where are you?” She was speaking so loudly I had to hold the phone away from my ear a safe distance as she spouted one question after another at me without reprieve.

My rescuer across from me chuckled, overhearing my frantic friend. “I’m fine, someone tried to steal my stuff on my way to meet you. Luckily someone came along and helped me catch him, otherwise I’d have lost everything. But everything is okay now, we are-” I looked around and realized I have no idea where we were.

He seemed to catch on to my newest distress and whispered, “Tell them we are on the corner of Tufton and Bennett’s Yard.”

I nodded and mouthed a thank you, “ Tufton and Bennett’s Yard,” I repeated and she said she’d be here in a 10 minutes and to sit and wait before hanging up the phone.

I slouched on the wall of some building, letting myself relax. “Not to be repetitive or anything, but thank you.”

He just shook his head, “No need. You’re friend sounded pretty worried about you, it wouldn’t do well to let her stew in that worry longer than needed.”

“Yeah, it’s been a few years since we last saw each other. She’d be pretty upset if something bad happened before I could even move in,” I laughed, though it didn’t quite sound right even to my ears. “I’m Y/N, by the way,” I introduced and stuck my hand out.

He took it and gave a firm shake, “Tom. It’s a pleasure to meet you Y/N. Even in these less than optimal circumstances.”

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.”

“Y/N!” Someone yelled, and we both turned our heads to see Kyra sprinting full speed around her car and at me. I stood and braced myself for the collision of her, and fell back against the wall with the force of her body.

“Holy shit, girl! You scared the hell outta me, you could have died! This is why I told you to call me when you first got into town, you always manage to get yourself into trouble like this. What would I have told your parents if something happened, huh? Huh!?”

I grinned and pulled back to get a proper look at her. Her black hair, normally frizzy was sticking out in every direction and her honeyed eyes wide as she scanned me over, running her hands over my arms for injuries. “I’m fine, Kyra. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, you’re right.”

“I know I’m right!” She shot back with a glare, “That doesn’t make me feel any better!”

“Well, there is a first for everything after all.”

Tom laughed hard at our back and forth, making us both jump a little and look down at him. Before I could even say anything, Kyra was down on his level with the thieves shirt in her fists and a scowl that would scare the devil himself on her face.

“Is this the bastard that did this?”

“Let go!” I shrieked and pulled her off, albeit with a little effort. “Tom called the cops and they’ll deal with this properly. Not you,” I said sternly. She just let out a huff of a response and pushed herself back enough to look at Tom properly.

She gave him a once over and held her scowl in place, “So you’re the one who saved Y/N/N?”

He gave a small, hesitant nod and gave me a nervous glance. I just laughed and stood back up, as Kyra launched forward to give him a hug. “Thank you,” she murmured a few times and pulled back.

“No worries,” he said, and looked far less distressed now that Kyra didn’t look like she wanted to gut him. “I was there at the right time is all.”

“Yes, well- That doesn’t mean what you did was anything less than amazing. My whole life is in that bag and in that phone at the moment. Seriously, if there is anything I can do for you in return it’s yours. Ice cream, some roller skates, a kidney. Just ask.”

Everyone laughed at that and he nodded with an obviously sarcastic “sure”, just as the police arrived to take the culprit and our statements. Kyra mumbled something about them being slow and went to the car for a few minutes to be out of the way.

15 minutes later, everything was settled and they took the man away. Leaving Tom and I alone on the side walk again while I settled everything in my case to be sure I didn’t miss anything and quickly scribbled on a stray notecard.

“I meant it when I said I owe you one,” I said and handed the card with my name and number to him. “Just give me a ring if I can ever be of any help at all and I’ll come running. Though, probably much slower than you did.”

He tried to decline the offer only once, but after some persistence he took it with another smile, “Thank you, Y/N. Hopefully this will not be our last meeting. And hopefully never again under such pressing circumstances,” he held out his hand, and I took it, returning his earlier shake with a firm one of my own and I agreed.

“Until next time then,” he said and left.

I barely was able to take my seat in the car before Kyra grasped my arm with a devious smile, “Y/N/N- Did you just give that guy your number?” My silence was answer enough and she laughed, “Girl! No way!”

No way was right, I thought with a small smile of my own as we pulled away and started home.

»»-——————————————-««

TAGS: open

@drakesfiance @dumbgopher1 @kewlbeans-22

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

The Dark Team (part 10)

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @the-departed-potato, @jesuswasnotawhiteman, @idontknow296 , @beksib, @spythoschei, @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass, @mysticunicorn7)

Warnings: adorable jerks.

As the sun finally came up (for what it felt like an eternity, a night with seven nights inside of it), you rubbed your eyes and greeted your teammates, who somehow were both already up and having breakfast.

“I was wondering when would you join us”, said Loki, covering his mouth with the manners of a Prince while eating a piece of something. “Barnes made dessert for breakfast”, pointed out more amazed than reproachful.

“Desert?”, you laughed. “A cake?”.

“Yes”, said Loki, very sure of himself, and Bucky rolled his eyes and chuckled, correcting him.

“It’s a pancake, Loki. It’s a normal breakfast in Midgard”.

“Actually, probably just in this country”, you added. “What do you normally have in Asgard?”. As you chattered, you started getting ready and fixing your hair, stealing a piece of pancake from Bucky’s plate. “Wow, I didn’t know you could cook. It’s actually great”, you said, tasting a mouthful.

“Well, as in Midgard’s nordic areas, back home it’s often fruit and bread, or porridge with dried fruits” he recalled distracted, and immediately interrupted himself with “are we not supposed to alert the rest of this?”.

“About Buck knowing how to cook? Yeah, I’m impressed, we should tell everyone”.

“I guess we should’ve told them yesterday, instead of going to sleep”, said Bucky, ignoring you. “Only God knows where that supersoldier is now”.

“I don’t, actually”.

“I didn’t mean... nevermind”, he sighed. “I'm calling Stark and let’s hope we don’t get too yelled at”.

You recalled yesterday’s events. You had so many dreams, you could barely remember being awake at all. First, the bearded man’s nightmare. Then, something about… the compound? Then, you remembered distinctly, Loki speaking Old Norse begging Thor about something. You remembered the phonetic of the words, but they were all gibberish now. Then, a last dream, something about buying rotten apples and being forced to eat them by Thanos. Your imagination surely was active on the nights.

Loki seemed paler than usual as he stared at you, without even blinking.

“What?”, you snapped him out of your head.

“You dreamt with me?”, he muttered, getting up and cleaning his plate with a snap.

"I also dreamt with Thanos".

“Don’t get too attached, I’ll be back to Asgard soon”, he promised, or alerted. Intentions unclear.

“I’m not attached”, you protested. You thought he’d smirk or be the smug idiot he usually was. He didn’t. Instead, he looked unsettled; disturbed even. “I didn’t dream with you on purpose, it was probably because of yesterday’s thing”.

“What thing?”, peeped in Bucky. “Oh no, did you two fuck?”.

“I didn’t let them die, big deal. I was just saving myself the amount of annoyance it would be to have Stank on my neck all week long if your blood was sort of in my hands”.

“Sounds like a lot of deflecting emotions to me, buddy”, said Bucky, and you chuckled.

“He’s just embarrassed he saw himself cry in one of my dreams from last night”, you mocked. He got up and you didn’t get to see his face, but presumed it would hold something near a death threat.

“You two have an intense bonding experience and decide to concentrate on it with more insults? You know, this is why you’re single”, added Bucky.

“It wasn’t a bonding experience”, you said, cutting-glass sharpness in your gaze.

“I’m not single”, corrected Loki at the same time, with an equally whetted voice.

Both Bucky and you looked at him with plate-wide eyes, waiting for him to elaborate. He didn’t. Neither of you asked, but surely shared a fair amount of desire to gossip about it. Oh, how much you wished to be able to tell Bucky about Loki re-reading Hamlet to reminisce about his beloved. But there was a line you wouldn’t cross in there; you knew where to stop.

“Mr. Stark”, you called through the earbud, “you there, sir?”.

“Painfully”, he answered. You connected the earbud to your phone and held it on speaker, so the rest of the team could join. “Tell me more about what I’m gonna yell at you three about”.

As you walked him through (almost) every event in the past twenty four hours, you could feel how his hands traveled all the way up to his face, and had to hold in a few sighs of disgust and utter hate towards… Well, you weren’t sure towards what, exactly.

“Are we grounded, dad?”, spat Loki with sarcasm.

“Listen, Rock Of Ages, if I could, I’d have you in a prison cell still to this day. Don’t push any buttons”.

“Come on, it’s been, what, nine years since he last fucked up something in here?” you defended him, not quite sure why. Loki grew nervous as Tony laughed obnoxiously at him.

“Sure. He didn’t keep fucking things up in here after that”.

“I can assure you I didn’t. How Odin manages his deals with Midgard does not concern me”, explained Loki, and you frowned at the mention of that name. Of course, Loki Odinson. That was where that name resonated from. Besides the Mythology. Though you weren't sure until where those stories were true or not; in there, Loki wasn't even Thor's brother.

“Going back to your current screw up, what happened to the civilians you frightened in the process? I imagine they didn’t realize about the new supersoldiers”.

“They should be extremely blind or idiotic to not have noticed, since the soldier jumped out of nine floors and survived”, answered Loki, looked at you up and down, and kept going “so, no. They have probably slept on it”.

“Wait, what?”.

“What?”.

“Nine floors? Pretty sure Capsicle and Barnes wouldn’t survive that either”.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”, you asked, concerned.

“I’m afraid so. Loki and Bucks won’t cut it, especially when we don’t know the number of new super-supersoldiers out there. And you’re coming back to the compound, directing the mission from the distance”.

“Are you kidding? I’m fine here. I’m all levels of mean, you said it yourself”.

“You’re too young and inexperienced in combat for these kinds of things, and they have special genetic advantages in their bodies, you know, the serum”, explained Tony as you rolled your eyes. But you understood exactly what he meant, and in fact, you agreed. “Do you understand?”.

“Yes; supersoldiers and Gods only”.

“Good kid. Now, Teleporting Popsicle, would you mind taking there with you the rest?”.

With an overly dramatic sigh, Loki vanished behind a party of green lights and reappeared in a matter of seconds in the same spot, holding carelessly Thor and Steve’s arms. Thor, for obvious reasons, was unfazed by the trip. Rogers, on the other hand, seemed about to throw up. There wasn’t anything balance would help with when your cells are reconfigurated inside and out in a fraction of a second. How the hell did he do all of that? You knew it was magic, but it still wouldn’t stop you from being absolutely astonished by it.

Loki arranged his hair behind his ears and locked eyes with you, followed by his typical smugly smile and a “thank you”, as if you were praising him in your thoughts. Oh, wait.

“I didn’t say anything”, you retorted, hoping to maintain at least a drop of pride left.

“You thought I was impressive”. You were going to correct him but realized that absolutely astonished was even worse.

“And since when do you offer gratitude?”.

“In case you wonder, yes, they’ve been like this the whole mission. You’ll get used to it”, said Bucky to Steve and Thor.

They started arranging their things and got updated as thoroughly as they could. Meanwhile, you stood exactly where you were the following ten minutes, absorbed in your own thoughts. Once you snapped out of them, Loki was still staring at you, standing in the same place too.

“What?”.

“I hate to break it to you, but…”.

“What?”.

“I’m your best option”.

“You’re my what?”.

“Your best option”.

“You’re not giving much context”.

“You’re going back to the compound. I figured you’d think about the mission or something about it for the past ten minutes you were zoned out, but apparently you only have room to think about how terrified you’re of that quinjet”.

Your palms got sweaty and a shiver ran through your spine by the only thought of remembering how heights felt under your feet, and how a simple machine wouldn’t stop you from landing on water and drowning, or crushing against a building and being burned to the bones until all you become is dust and…

“Hello? You’re spiraling again”, he snapped you back. “It’ll be just a blink. You won’t even notice”.

“Uh-uh. No, I’m not doing that. I’m waiting for whatever Tony sends to come and get me”.

“You’ll feel terrible”, he said, and he was right. For a moment, you considered accepting his offer. “And I’m the best”. His humble offer.

“I’m sure you are, but it’s not my best option”.

He sighed.

“Will you allow me to teleport you or not?”.

“Heavens, no”.

“Alright, you little stubborn human mortal”.

“Long nickname, you better come up with a shorter one”.

“Like what?”.

“I don’t know, something that bothers you. I’m not the one supposed to make your insults towards me”.

“Let me think”, he said, looking around the room. His gaze landed on the still unwashed plate of Bucky’s breakfast. “Pancake”.

“Not... that’s not an insult”.

“Why? They’re too sugary. They rot your teeth”.

“Yeah, but it’s not derogatory”.

“Fucking pancake”.

“It doesn’t cut it”.

“But what’s wrong with my pancake?”.

“It’s actually a pet name. You know, like the ones we said when we were in...”, but apparently that was all a distraction (of course, he was the God of Lies, after all), and when you were already thinking about how to explain to him why he shouldn’t call you pancake, he stood in front of you and held you by both sides of the arms, surrounding you almost completely, holding you still.

And just as he said, a blink later you were in the compound, perfectly fine. Peter and Tony greeted you as he pulled out and you stood there in shock. So, you really just needed some stabilization to not die in the intricate process of teleportation. Just before stepping away from you, he leaned over your shoulder and his whisper made your ear ticklish, saying “you’re welcome” with a grin. You didn’t look at him.

You started to gather all your stuff; papers, maps, laptops, and getting ready for the planning of the following steps of the mission as fast as you could, until you realized Loki was still there, and Tony and Peter were waiting for you. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Aren’t you going?”, you asked Loki.

“No, I’m staying, apparently”.

“Why?”.

“That’s what Stark was thinking, I don’t know”.

“Hey, Elsa, don’t read my mind, would you?”, snapped Tony. He was about to explain himself, but you kept talking to Loki, cutting his words.

“What’s wrong with you that you read everyone’s thoughts all the time? You know how unethical that is? It’s invasive”.

“You say that because you think slow”.

“Untrue, I’m actually a very fast thinker”.

“How would you know? You’ve never read anyone’s minds so, how could you possibly…?”.

You stopped dead on your tracks, and didn’t listen to what he was saying. That phrase. That exact phrase you dreamt with. The darkness. It was the exact same voice of the darkness, you remembered. It wasn’t darkness, it was his voice. Were you just imagining things? Too suggestionated? Definitely. How could you dream with something you’ve never heard before?

“Sorry to interrupt, you two seem to be having a long, unnecessary and avoidant conversation that could be resumed in three tiny words, as you did all mission long” interfered Tony, sick of listening to you two. Loki was observing you as heedful as he could; your thoughts had caught his attention. You couldn’t read his face. “So, I’m gonna cut it shortly”.

“What?”, you went back to reality. You needed to actively ignore Loki’s gaze on you to actually pay any mind to Tony’s words.

“The rest of the team has another mission, and both Peter and you are technically still kids…” and as soon as you opened your mouth to argue, he shut it “no, don’t interrupt me. You know I’m right. So, I can’t leave you two alone for the entire week”.

“Oh”, you understood. Peter’s innocent eyes shone at the idea. Yours, not so much. “So, Loki is our babysitter”.

“Yes”, said Loki, while Tony answered “No” at the same time.

"What about Happy?", asked Peter.

“I think we can manage perfectly on our own. Besides, what makes you think he’s more responsible than me?”.

“He’s an adult”.

“He’s seventeen in human years, and fucked a horse”.

“Wow, someone has been stalking my mythology”.

“If you two quarrel too much, Peter will tell me and I’ll be back with Clint Barton in charge of you three. So you better behave. Alright, I’m leaving”.

“Wait! What are the rules?”, asked Peter. You grabbed your face and Loki muttered what a damn nerd.

“Eh, don’t burn down the compound, I don’t know, kid”, said Tony getting inside his bright red suit.

“The bar is on the floor. Let’s play macarena”, you whispered.

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki headcanon #loki fic #fanfic mcu #loki masterlist #laufeyson #loki friggason #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x avenger!reader #loki x y/n #mcu loki #marvel #marvel loki #avengers #tom hiddleston

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redriotdynamite · 3 years

Text

I Wanna Feel You

TRIGGER WARNING:

NSFW

CUSSING

TOXIC RELATIONSHIP

DOM & SUB PLAY

DEGRADATION PLAY

PRAISE PLAY

BDSM

THREESOME

KNIFE PLAY

BONDAGE PLAY

EDGE PLAY

ORAL SEX (GIVING AND RECIEVING)

ASS PLAY

ANAL SEX

VAGINAL SEX

NIPPLE PLAY

CUM PLAY

So guys this is a pretty long short story that I’ve been working on for a while. This is part one. Hope you enjoy.

The rain felt amazing. It was cold, just what I needed on my hot sweaty body. The bar was packed but I had been persuaded by my best friend. A night out of drinking and dancing would do the trick, the perfect end to a shit week, as she had explained it. Looking back through the windows I could barely make out my best friends' silhouette, leaning against the bar, throwing back another shot of tequila and laughing out loud. Her uber was coming in about thirty minutes but as for me, I had to get back home asap. I pulled my phone from my small shoulder bag and groaned when the screen lit up. Thirty-seven missed calls...about fifty texts and to top it off one voicemail. A shiver ran up my spine and I wasn’t sure if it was the cold rain or the realization that I had made a big mistake. I pulled down the notification bar and there laced with questions and demands about where I was, was one name. The name that had haunted me for nights, the name that filled me with an everlasting fear and excitement.... Dabi. I closed my eyes as I locked my phone and shoved it back in my bag. I looked up at the sky and breathed a big sigh. “Fuck”. I knew what the voicemail would say without even having to listen to it. Dabi had told me not to leave the house tonight. He had some official villain business to take care of. Something to do with Shigaraki's master plan. Not that I would have any idea what he meant as all villain matters where kept from me. I gritted my teeth in frustration.

Dabi never wanted me to leave the house. He was daring and scary and to be frank hot as fuck, but he was protective above all. It was sweet... at first. But now I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t really decide if it was him being protective or just controlling. The rain came down in small splashes, taking some of the frustration off me. Better get home before it’s too late. I looked both ways before crossing the street and made my way towards home. It was just a little bit of water and besides I liked the rain. Home was just a small ten-minute walk away. As I walked, I could feel my phone vibrating. What was another few minutes of peace before the storm came? I knew he was worried; he always was. His past wasn’t something that he liked to talk about, and I could see the worry lines in his brows from time to time but if I was completely honest, I loved disobeying him. It was thrilling. But more than that, it was like nothing I had ever felt before. The thrill that came with it, filling my stomach with butterflies. It wasn’t like I was unsafe. I was surrounded in a bar, a bar that was ten minutes from home. No big deal. But the further away from the bar I got the less that seemed to be true. Maybe it was the thinking that distracted me, or maybe the shots I had taken but looking around I realized that I didn’t recognize anything. I had been walking for about 5 minutes now and knew I should be close. But the cute coffee shop and bookstore I often visited while Dabi was gone were nowhere to be found.

I started to panic but pushed it down agreeing that if I didn’t see anything familiar within a few minutes I would call him. He needed to know that I was capable of being on my own. I had to prove that to him. So, without hesitation I quickened my pace and rounded the corner. I knew it was late by the darkened windows of empty shops that I was passing. Hmm. It couldn’t be that late, could it? I paused and pulled my phone out for the second time. Forty-five missed calls now, sixty-five texts, all full of fucks and shits. There was even a god damnit thrown in there. Looking at the clock I realized that it was already 1am. “Shit.” If me leaving without permission wasn’t bad enough this was. I knew that the streets were dangerous, especially at this time of night.

I stared at his name, trying to buy myself some time. But I knew that it was hopeless. I had to face him sometime. I pressed the call button and waited for the ring. It only rang once before the other line erupted into a roar. “WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Just as I was about to respond a noise pulled your attention to the alley close by. At first glance I didn’t see anything. Thinking that my mind was playing tricks on me, I turned my attention back to the phone and answered. “Before you say anything else just know that I'm okay. I know you told me not to go out, but I just went to the bar to drink with my friend. I’m on my way home now. I’m sorry it’s so late. I know your mad, but I promise I'm okay.” I took a deep breath after my confession. Of course, he knew that I was gone. At this point I knew that he had been looking for me all over.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I TOLD YOU NOT TO LEAVE. WHY CAN’T YOU EVER DO WHAT YOU’RE FUCKING TOLD. JUST YOU

WAIT UNTIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU. TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE RIGHT FUCKING NOW!”

Nothing could have prepared me for the deathly scream that came from the earpiece. God, I knew he was angry, but this was a new level for him. I glanced over to the intersection and read him the street name.

“YOU BETTER NOT MOVE A FUCKING MUSCLE UNTIL I GET THERE.” He yelled. I was just about to answer when another noise pulled my attention away again. This time it sounded like an empty glass bottle rolling on the ground. My eyes were pulled to the alley and there in the darkness staring back at me were big gold eyes. The shock was evident in my breath. It was a strangled sucking in noise. I couldn’t help it. It took me by surprise. I could feel the terror rising in my stomach. It took all I could do but I managed to get three words out.

“There’s someone here.” That was all it took for the anger in Dabi’s voice to disappear. His voice was husky and hoarse, but the worry was there. I could hear it. “What do you mean?”

Before I could answer the gold eyes moved forward and gave way to a tall handsome man. His gold eyes were mesmerizing. They shined and matched his hair perfectly. He stood clad in a black jacket, a simple white tee shirt, black jeans and converse. He had exquisite black eye liner, a metal barbel through his right eyebrow and a metal ring through his bottom lip. His eyes looked up and down, taking me in. The right side of his mouth pulled up in a smirk. He took a few steps towards me and out of the darkness two huge red wings followed him. They looked ginormous and beautiful. I was mesmerized, I wanted to feel how soft they were on my skin. I was a bit taken aback by this as I had never thought of anyone in that way but Dabi. We had a connection that was unexplainable from the moment we met. This feeling was new and scary but it washed over me, pulling me in.

I guess Dabi wasn’t happy with the silence on my end and he erupted again. “I’M COMING!” That was all I heard before the line went dead. It was odd for him to be concerned. Normally I would have been annoyed by Dabi for hanging up but I was distracted. Sure, this man in front of me was one of the hottest men I had ever seen before, but I didn’t know him. I was scared. I knew the kind of villains that Dabi was around on a daily basis. So, I knew how terrible people could be. I took a step back my eyes not leaving his. His smirk covered his whole face and he took two strides towards me.

“Well, Hey there baby bird.” He spoke. I couldn’t help but like the way the pet name sounded. His blonde hair was a mess and he ran his fingers through it, making it look messier, not that it was a bad thing. His wings followed behind him and they fanned out majestically. They were so beautiful. Have I seen this man before? I couldn’t have, could I? I mean honestly, I would have remembered. Regardless of how handsome he was or how charming he seemed; I was still on guard. I quickly turned around and started walking fast, back the way I came. I heard his footsteps behind me which caused me to panic a tiny bit.

“Oh, come on baby bird. There’s no reason to be scared.”

It seemed genuine; but I was remembering what Dabi had always told me. Don’t trust anyone. It was something I had lived by; something that had kept me safe. Being in the league, Dabi was always dealing with pretty crazy people; people who had held grudges against him. He was always protective but when it came to other villains, he was super protective. I had made my way to the corner, about to pass by an alley and cross the street, when I felt a hand on my wrist.

“Hey there kid, where are you going?” He asked. I spun around as fast as I could, my hand raised to slap him as hard as I could. My hand had almost connected with his face but was stopped before it could. He had caught my wrist in his hand. His smirk grew on his face and he tightened his grip on my wrist.

“Now now, let’s play fair, shall we?” He said with a light expression; walking me backwards until my back connected with the brick wall of the building to my slight right. The building was cold, causing goosebumps to raise on my arms and legs. In once swift movement both my hands were pinned above my head, against the brick, captured in one of his hands. A small breath forced its way out of my mouth. It was surprising. When I refocused on him, I realized how close his body was to mine. His face was inches from mine

and his body was just as close. His cologne washed over me; a mixture of Mediterranean waters, cliffside geranium and amber wood. It surrounded me, consuming my thoughts to the point of feeling drunk. I could feel myself slipping. I couldn’t control my thoughts. His free hand came up and caressed my cheek. As soon as he touched me a shock went through my body, all the way to my toes. I shivered. Apparently, he noticed because his smirk grew.

“So soft, are we cold song bird?”

I couldn’t speak. His fingers traveled down my cheek to my lips. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip tugging at it.

“Mmmm so fucking pretty.” The way his voice dropped a few octaves, made my body heat up. His fingers left my lips and moved down my chin to my neck. He massaged the skin there causing me to shift from foot to foot. He suddenly wrapped his hand around my neck, securely.

“You have to learn to be still baby.”

I could feel his rings digging into my skin. I couldn’t think of anything else at that moment other than his hands on me. I felt his breath fan out over my face, him coming closer. It was cool mint. It mixed with his deep cologne; the mixture heavenly. I bit my bottom lip. My breathing was hard and fast. The thrill in my tummy was out of control; the butterflies tingling. I guess he liked what he saw because he squeezed my neck tightly.

“Fuckkk, baby bird. You look so fucking tasty.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes darting from mine to my lips; before he leaned in and kissed me.

Sparks erupted in my lips and spread all over me. His lips were so soft and warm but I could feel the cold metal of his lip ring on mine and it drove me crazy. I moaned in his mouth before I realized what I was doing. I pushed my body forward, trying to get closer to him. I could feel his smirk against my lips before he pulled away slightly and chuckled.

“So eager aren’t we kid?”

With his hand still around my throat his thumb moved to caress my chin.

“I was right. You taste so fucking good.”

Normally I was a rational person.... okay maybe not 100% sane. I mean I was dating a villain. I normally would have never done anything like this. Maybe it was the alcohol that coarsed through my veins giving me a high or maybe it was just this man. I wasn’t sure and that thought terrified me.

His hand traveled down to the neckline on my shirt. He ran his long index finger along the line of the dark fabric; causing more goosebumps to pop up. His finger left a hot trail in his wake along my cleavage. Once he was satisfied, he moved his hand lower, rubbing my side. His hand then came to bottom of my shirt. He lifted the fabric slightly; exposing my skin. The air was so cold but his fingers like fire; heating up every part of my body. He rubbed the skin there; sweet praises slipping out under his breath. My breath was coming out in fast pants. It was somewhat shameful to say that I was already turned on. He moved his hand lower coming to the bottom of my skirt. He took his bottom lip between his teeth. His hand moved under the fabric and started moving up. He was trailing his fingers along my thighs and hips. He ran his fingers along the bottom hem of my panties. The butterflies erupted in my stomach, causing me to feel dizzy. I wanted more; I needed more. It was like I was starving; he was a four-course meal and I wanted to indulge. His hand moved along the hem for a moment before moving to the top of my panties. He was so close to where I wanted him to be. His fingers lightly played with the hem; not giving me what I wanted; what he knew I wanted. He inched lower and lower, his lip still in between his teeth.

It was driving me crazy, in a way that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Of course, Dabi and I had always had a great sex life. But Dabi had been busy with the league lately. I knew he was stressed and that it wasn’t his fault; but our relationship had taken the worst of it. No longer did we spend nights awake in each other's arms, riding out highs, just to chase another. And if I was completely honest, I missed it; I missed it a lot. My thoughts were interrupted when the man dipped his finger below the hem; taking me by surprise. A sharp breath slipped out of my mouth and I moaned. He finally let his lip go and smirked.

“Tell me what you want baby bird.”

I internally whined.

“Please, more.” I said breathless.

He came closer and kissed me again, this time running his lips down my chin to my neck. He nipped at the skin.

“More what?” I could practically hear his smirk against my skin. He was literally going to make me beg. I sighed; annoyed. It was embarrassing to say it.

“Just more. Please” I said, hoping that was good enough.

He chuckled.

“Come on kid, It’s not that hard. All you have to do is tell me what you want.” He was teasing me at this point. I rolled my eyes causing him to chuckle more.

“I want you to touch me.”

“Ahh, you want me to touch you were?” he questioned as if he didn’t know. I huffed. Of course, he was going to make me say it.

“I want you to touch me there. Please.” I batted my eyelashes at him and bit my lip again. Maybe the puppy dog eyes would work.

“There? Are you sure? I could stop.” he teased; moving his hand away. I spoke immediately.

“No please, I want you to touch...my.... pussy.” I said shyly.

“Ohhhh.” he said faking realization.

I huffed again, annoyed.

“Please don’t make me say it again. Please, just make me feel good.” I said sweetly, trying to win him over.

“That’s its kid. I love to hear you fucking beg. You want me to touch your pretty pussy? I bet you’re so wet just thinking about it aren’t you?”

He then moved his hand into my panties. His fingers rubbed their way down to my folds, stopping there; teasing me more. I gave him a “are you kidding me look”. He smirked and raised his eyebrow at me.

“Beg. If you want me to touch your pretty pussy and make you cum you’re going to beg for it, do you hear me?” His dominance only made me wetter and before I knew it, I was begging.

“Please, please, please touch my pussy. Make me feel good. I want to feel good, please.”

He smiled and finally pushed through my folds. It was unlike anything I had felt before. It felt so fucking good. He moved his fingers around my clit, in circles, causing pleasure to spread everywhere. His fingers Moved expertly against my core, taking me higher and higher. I was just to the point of wanting more when he slipped two fingers inside me; kissing me as he did. I moaned in his mouth. God it was incredible, so fucking incredible. The sensation, it was like I hadn’t felt this kind of pleasure in forever. I wasn’t thinking about him, about Dabi, about anything but the pleasure. I wanted to feel good, so fucking good. I didn’t even know this man's name but I knew how good his fingers felt and I wanted more. I pushed my hips forward trying to get his fingers to go deeper. He obliged and I could feel myself nearing my peak when his rings hit right at my entrance. I was a moaning mess.

“Yes please, oh my fucking god, yes.” I rocked my hips back and forth looking for the release. I wanted this so bad.

“That’s it. You feel that? It’s so good isn’t it. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

That was it for me. I could feel it coming. I was there on the edge about to let go, when I heard tires screeching and an engine roaring. My stomach fell into my feet. I froze. The man tried to continue but I pushed him away. His fingers ripped from my core and I suddenly felt the loss. I pushed my skirt down trying to make myself look decent. HA! Make myself look decent after what I had just done; yeah right.

My high had been ruined and it was all because of Dabi. I wasn’t upset that I was interrupted, I was upset because I was beginning to realize the impact of what I had just done. The betrayal that I knew would crush Dabi. To say he had a temper was an understatement. I looked to the right, out to the street and there, one wheel on the sidewalk was his black Audi R8. The blue lights underneath the car that I got him for his last birthday glowed in the dark. The engine roared again. I couldn’t see inside due to the blacked-out windows. Not that I would want to. I couldn’t believe what I had just done and I didn’t know how he would react. Before I could prepare myself, the driver door opened and Dabi stepped out. He was dressed in black skinny jeans, a black v neck t shirt, his scars poking out of the neck line, and black boots. His spikey black hair was a mess, no doubt from running his hands through it, something he always did when he was mad or frustrated. As soon as I saw his blazing eyes, not only was I scared but I was also saddened. I couldn’t believe that I had done this to him. Sure, we had our issues but this man, this hurt scarred man had loved me the best way he knew how. He protected me against any and everything. And for me to just do something like this was unforgiveable.

He stormed towards us.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” he demanded.

Part 2 is up now!!!

https://redriotdynamite.tumblr.com/post/656431365597822976/i-wanna-feel-you-part-2

#MHA #my hero academia #bnha dabi #toyua todoroki #bnha hawks #hawksbnha #keigo tamaki #smut #anime smut #my hero academia smut #bakugou #facticion

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rikalovesrice · 3 years

Text

Brother

A ficlet inspired by this thread on Twitter, some “Douxie During Trollhunters” stuff I was working on a while back, and my love for Douxie and Jim being best bros UwU

@aaronwaltke and @biancasiercke if you guys ever wanna give this a read (Absolutely zero pressure! Just sharing💙)

Also a big thank you to my good friend @nikibogwater for proofreading for me! ^_^

Please enjoy!

~ ~ ~

Douxie still remembered the day a seven-year-old Jim Lake Jr. came through the door to Benoit’s, tugging his mom in after him by her hand. His big toothy smile when he exclaimed that it was his mom’s birthday and that he was paying for all of it, even the drinks.

“Are you now?” Douxie asked, handing the pair of them menus. They’d chosen a two-top right next to the windows, the backdrop of Arcadia under a soft orange sunset in full view.

“I helped mom clean,” Jim said. “Like a lot. So I have lots of money.” He crossed his arms, throwing his mom, Barbara Lake, a cheeky grin. His black hair was on the long side and messy, sticking up and flopping in various places including over one of his eyes, though it did virtually nothing to hide his pride and excitement.

“Can you believe he wanted to spend his whole allowance on me?” Barbara said.

“Uh yeah! You’re the best mom ever!” Jim leaned towards Douxie, feigning a whisper. “She’s the best mom ever.”

Douxie chuckled. “I’m sure. And it looks like she’s got a great son to match.” Jim beamed, though a hint of shyness bloomed on his face.

“I’m sorry, what’s your name?” Barbara asked.

“Oh, quite alright. You can call me Douxie. I’ll be your server tonight.”

“Well thank you, Douxie.”

“Mom, can I get a milkshake?”

“Why are you asking me, little man? You’re the one paying.”

“Oh yeah.”

One shared entree of well done steak, a milkshake, and two free slices of cake (accompanied by Douxie’s acoustic guitar and a birthday song) later, Jim caught Douxie by the hem of his jacket after he’d set their receipt down.

“Wait, Mister Douxie I uh…” Jim dug deep into his pockets, rummaging with a look of determination.

Douxie smiled, kneeling down beside him. “What is it, little man?”

“Um, wait, wait I need to...Oh!” Jim smiled big as he pulled a single coin out of his pocket. He held it straight out to Douxie, his eyes seeming to sparkle. “This is for you! Mom said that you should always tip people.”

Jim placed the coin in the center of Douxie’s palm. It was a nickel, a small bit of rust darkening ol’ Tommy’s profile. Douxie glanced over at Barbara, who was gazing at her son with an expression nothing short of pure endearment, glowing with pride. Douxie closed his fingers over the nickel and held it to his chest.

“A fine tip, indeed,” he said with a soft smile. “Thank you very much, Jim.”

Jim beamed. Then he was springing out of his chair, giggling as he gave Douxie a hug. How long had it been since he’d been smothered by someone who wasn’t Archie? Maybe long enough, because Douxie’s brain stopped working at the gesture, as did his arms. It registered more with every second that passed, the feeling of Jim’s small arms wrapped around him and his head on Douxie’s shoulder. Even without seeing his face, Douxie somehow knew Jim was smiling into his jacket. Something welled up in his heart, warm and touched. Douxie hugged Jim back, one hand on his back and the other gently holding his head.

“You’re awesome Mister Douxie!” Jim said as he pulled back, his hands still on Douxie’s shoulders. “Mom was really happy.”

“Hey now, I’m not the one who bought her dinner tonight.” Douxie ruffled Jim’s hair.

“Alright, Jim, Mister Douxie has to go back to work,” Barbara said softly. Jim’s expression fell and he began to wring his hands.

“No worries.” Douxie gave Jim’s shoulder a squeeze, tilting his head to look Jim in the eyes. “Chin up, buddy. Next time you come in, I’ll still be here.”

Jim beamed. “Cool!”

“Go on, then.”

Jim hopped to his mother’s side, taking her hand. When he was distracted by one of Douxie’s co-workers wrestling with a malfunctioning blender, Barbara reached into her purse and pulled out a bill. She slipped it into Douxie’s hand, silently mouthing a thank you. Then the pair were off, stepping back out onto the streets of Arcadia under a pleasant evening.

Douxie unrolled the bill.

Twenty dollars.

His eyes shot to the window in disbelief, catching Jim giving him one last wave goodbye. A deep breath turned into soft chuckling. Douxie waved back.

See you, little buddy.

~ ~ ~

The morning Archie reported Kanjigar’s death, they’d booked it to the canal. The last thing they wanted was for the Amulet of Daylight to wind up in the museum or in some kid’s backpack. Douxie would pick it up and then head right back to Arcane Books. So a brisk ten minute walk later, they were peering down the deep slope of the canal and spotted what must have been the remains of the Trollhunter. A heap of broken stone, just out of reach of the shadow of the bridge. Douxie closed his eyes, taking a moment to honor the fallen Protector of Trolls and Man. Wondering if, somehow, Merlin was doing the same.

“Alright Arch, let’s go — “ Before they could take another step, what looked like a boy on a bicycle suddenly launched over the other side of the canal, suspended in the air before diving back down and landing on his wheels. The boy skid to a halt and turned to holler behind him, up from where he’d come.

“Jim?” Douxie whispered, recognizing that head of black hair and those skinny legs. “A bit late for school, isn’t he?” Then Douxie felt a pinch of panic seize him. He prayed the kid would stay away from that odd pile of rocks.

“Come on Tobes!” Jim hollered.

And not a second later…

James...Lake.

A deep, echoing voice rumbled out into the atmosphere, buzzing in Douxie’s ears. Shock and disbelief struck Douxie like a manticore’s tail. He and Archie shared a look. The panic spiked.

Douxie watched, his heart beginning to pound harder and harder, as Jim faced the stone rubble, slowly removing his helmet. Another familiar face, Toby Domzalski, came struggling down the canal, falling onto his face as Jim passed under the bridge and approached what was left of Kanjigar.

“Do you think he heard the voice?” Archie said.

“No...It can’t be…He’s not…” It couldn’t be. Jim wasn’t a troll. Jim wasn’t a troll. And yet —

James Lake.

The voice rang out again. Jim yelled and fell backwards in surprise.

“That pile of rocks knows my name!” Jim exclaimed, scrambling closer on his hands and knees. Douxie stared, mind still suspended in shock but gut starting to sink with dread as Jim dug around the rubble, eventually unearthing the Amulet of Daylight, its distinct soft blue glow ever hard to miss.

Everything in Douxie wanted him to somehow swipe it from Jim’s hands.

Because not him.

Not Jim.

But Douxie also knew better.

“What should we do, Douxie?” Archie asked. They ducked behind a tree when Toby started shouting for someone to reveal themselves. Made sense he would think it was a trick. Only magical beings or the chosen could hear the Amulet.

Only magical beings.... Or so Douxie had thought. Jim slipping the Amulet into his bag was a nail in the coffin.

“Well...we can’t take it now,” he said, eyes still trained on the boys. “The Amulet... seems to have made its choice….”

In the distance, the school bell of Arcadia Oaks rang out. Jim and Toby hurried back to their bikes, quickly mounting and taking off. When they were long gone, Douxie stepped out from behind the tree without a word, sliding down the canal and standing over the pile of stones. He stared off in the direction the boys had left, his mind reeling like nothing else, trying to comprehend what he’d seen and what it meant.

Why it had to be Jim.

Archie joined him, climbing up on and inspecting the rubble.

“I know...the Amulet doesn’t make mistakes,” Douxie said quietly. “But...a human Trollhunter? And he’s only a child…” His voice quivered, pangs of worry and dread striking his heart.

“It’s...certainly a first,” Archie said, leaning a paw on Douxie’s leg. “I’m not sure what to make of this myself.” There was a long beat of silence before Archie spoke again. “What do you want to do, Douxie?”

What could they do? Was there anything to be done now? That and there wasn’t anyone he could discuss this with, at least who would know more.

If only you were here, Master… Douxie thought, one hand balling into a fist. He stewed in his thoughts for a moment longer before scooping Archie up onto his shoulders and heading back up the slopes of the canal.

“Douxie?” Archie said.

“We’ll keep doing what we’ve always done,” Douxie said. “Watch...and protect.” He didn’t have any answers. But it was done. The new Trollhunter had been chosen.

Something stirred in Douxie’s chest, growing stronger as he remembered the smiling face of a seven-year-old boy who’d tipped him a nickel. Stronger still because Douxie knew. He knew what it was like to be so young and have so much, far too much, thrust upon him. Having his hand and the growth of his strength forced. The secrets that had to be kept, even from the ones he loved most, for their own safety. Pain he hadn’t known was coming.

The loss.

The loneliness.

The weight of the world.

When Douxie retired to his cot that night, he approached the small shine of silver on his nightstand. No, he didn’t have a clue what any of this meant. But what Douxie did know was that he’d be Jim’s greatest ally.

He picked up the nickel and held it tight, a promise burning deep within him.

I’ll protect you.

~ ~ ~

Author’s Notes :

So I imagine that Jim and his mother ended up not frequenting the diner as much since Barbara was always so swamped and Jim was learning how to cook more at home. So Jim eventually just forgot about his first meeting with Douxie. But Douxie of course still continued to look out for him as best as he could. And I believe this is why Douxie saw Jim as family, even though he seemed to have only known him for a short time. In reality, though, Douxie always loved the kid💙

God bless and thank you all so much for reading!💙

#rika tries to write #tales of arcadia #Big Bro Douxie #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #jim lake jr #barbara lake #toby domzalski #tales of arcadia headcanons #this was fun heehee #this is my favorite bromance ever i swear lol #is so precious how can you not love them #can't wait to see my boys again #21st OF JULY LET'S GOOOOO

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fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Note

Hello. How are you? I saw you are a Hufflepuff. I'm a Ravenclaw! Anyway, can you please do a Chris Evans x reader in which the reader is a Harry Potter star and she is telling him about the series and how it was to work in them. Bye!

Magical

a/n - hello lovely nonnie! i’m fine but i’ve been really swamped with... life lately, which is why it’s taking me soooo long to put out requests and i’m so sorry, but i really hope you’ll like this!! reader doesn’t play a specific character, it’s a made up vauge one so everyone could read:) also, chris isn’t the biggest harry potter fan in this one because i don’t think he is one irl lol. Enjoy!!<3

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: very little proofreading i’m sorry

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Babe, is the popcorn ready yet?" Chris yelled from the living room.

"No, but if you stop asking every two seconds maybe it'll take faster!" you retorted from the kitchen.

"Fine, fine, but I'm choosing the movie till you get over here!"

"Are you talking to the popcorn or to me?" you laughed.

"Both of you!"

A few minutes later you put the popcorn into a big bowl and made your way to the living room. Upon seeing the movie paused on the TV screen, you groaned.

"Chriiis," you drawled, "I don't wanna watch that! I'm in it!"

"Precisely," he smirked triumphantly, "but you said nothing when I said I was gonna pick the movie, so you can't complain. Besides, I always watch the Marvel movies with you when you want to, now it's my turn to watch your movies."

"You're not even that big of a Harry Potter fan!" you objected, sitting down next to him and shoving some popcorn in your mouth anyway.

"But I'm a big fan of you," he smiled, leaning to grab a mouthful of the popcorn himself.

"Ugh," you smiled, "well, I can't say no to my fans," you said, faux-posh, and he grinned before turning on the movie.

About ten years ago, you wrapped your role in the Harry Potter franchise. You were in all of the movies, albeit not having the most screen time, but you played a friend of the golden trio's, from Ravenclaw. To this day, you couldn't believe that's what you got recognized for, since you did quite a few other projects, but usually people recognized you from the franchise, which you didn't mind that much, since it was such a positive experience for you as a young actress.

About ten minutes into the movie, Chris sighed. "Where are you?" he grumbled.

"They're not even in Hogwarts yet," you said, "be patient. Oh, here's Daniel's line!" you giggled. "I remember being on set that day and he just couldn't get it right. Kept stumbling over his words," you smiled fondly.

"Isn't it a magical train? Can't it like… go faster or something?" Chris complained.

"You can always fast forward it if you want to. Or we could just watch something else," you suggested with a smile.

"No! We're watching this," he said adamantly.

"Okay!" you laughed.

A few minutes later they finally got to Hogwarts, meeting your character for the first time.

"Awww, look at you!" Chris grinned, "you were such a baby!"

"Well, that was over a decade ago, so I'll take it," you giggled, "but just so you know if you'd told me that then I would've been real mad. Working on a film set makes you feel very mature," you smiled.

"Was it fun?" Chris asked, "working this young on such a huge franchise?"

"Yeah, it really was," you reminisced. "I read the books before and I absolutely adored them, so being told I get to work on the movies was a huge thing. Plus, I got to make a bunch of friends, you know."

"But wasn't hard, with school and all?"

"I mean, I guess it was a little packed, but I liked staying busy. We all studied on set together, and it was really nice," you smiled. "Oh my god, and Emma and I had the biggest crush on Tom," you laughed.

"Like Draco?" Chris frowned.

"Not really Draco, cause he's the villain sorta, but Tom was very cool," you giggled again, "looking back, I honestly don't know how crush-worthy he really was, but especially in the first movies it's most of what Emma and I talked about. But don't worry, I like Captain America way better now," you smiled and leaned in to peck his lips.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," he chuckled.

"Oh my god, and the special effects were really fun to do," you said. "When you did them it felt a little stupid but then watching yourself cast spells and see dragons and stuff, it was the coolest thing to see, especially the first time I saw it."

"So why are you so reluctant to watch it now?" Chris smirked.

"First of all, don't think I haven't noticed you're conversing with me, so you must be nearly as reluctant as I am," you smiled, "and secondly, I already saw all the dragons and that excitement wears off, so now I'm only left with hating seeing myself on screen," you laughed. "I was so young, it's just… weird I guess. Also, not to sound arrogant, but my acting skills have very much improved since then," you chuckled.

"I'm not reluctant to watch Harry Potter, I'm ecstatic!" he objected.

"Alright. We're watching Not Another Teen Movie tomorrow then," you smirked.

"Ugh fine. Can we drop the movie? I love you, but the plot is hardly compelling to me in my old age," he smiled.

"Don't make me make you watch Not Another Teen Movie to prove to you that you literally look the same now, if not even better," you threatened jokingly. "And I'd love to watch a movie we both really want to watch."

"Disney?" Chris smiled.

"Whatever, you toddler," you laughed and snuggled closer to him as he put on another movie for you to enjoy.

“I’m sorry we didn’t watch the whole movie,” Chris smiled, “but you’re all the magic I need.”

“Well I’m not sorry we didn’t finish the movie, but please shut your gorgeous face if you want to continue watching this one before I use my magnificent powers of distraction,” you smirked.

“I’m listening,” Chris laughed before leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

if you want, share your thoughts about what house chris is in:) i personally like to think hufflepuff but i’m a hufflepuff so i’m probably biased lmao

Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

if you wanna join / be removed from this taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans x actress!reader

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butterfliesluke · 3 years

Text

I missed you|| Calum Hood imagine

Y/n: POV:

Luke, Michael, and Ashton have all been texting me for the past week saying that Calum has been miserable. This is the longest that Calum and I have even been away from each other and to say it’s been hard is an understatement.

We have managed to FaceTime regularly but every time it is cream that we are both sad at the fact we can’t be in person with the other to hold them. It has been four months and I don’t think I can manage being away from my boyfriend anymore, I miss seeing his beautiful smile in person, I miss feeling his arms snake around my waist in the mornings, I miss cuddling with him at night, but most of all I miss the feeling of his lips on mine as we share a loving kiss.

——————————-

Ashton sent me my flight info and I immediately started packing because my flight left early in the morning. Since we lived in California and I was flying to London it would be about a 10 hour flight and I wanted to be there as soon as possible.

In the morning I had Kay Kay drive me to the airport since she couldn’t be on tour due to her job.

“Thanks Kay!” I waved.

“No problem go get your man!” She yelled and blew me a kiss.

I have always hated flying, it gave me really bad anxiety thinking about all the possible things that could happen. Calum would always hold my hand really tight and talk to me to distract me but this time I’m flying alone. I would do anything to see Calum he does so much for me so I can at least get on a plane by myself for him.

I went through the intimidating airplane security and boarded my plane pretty quickly and took my seat by the window. I really hoped the person next to me wasn’t annoying and I was right because they just slept basically the whole flight while I read and watched movies. There is just somethings I couldn’t do and sleeping on a plane was one of them, my anxiety would never allow it.

Finally 10 hours later I landed and got into the car Ashton rented for me saying he didn’t want to leave to come get me because that would cause suspicion. I silently thanked the lord because their hotel was only ten minutes away from the airport and all I wanted right now was a bed and Calum and I knew I couldn’t stand to be in a car long.

When I got there I texted Ashton and he came down and gave me a bone crushing hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here. He’s been more mopey today than usual.” We both laughed and he took my suitcase from the backseat and walked with me back to their rooms. “Okay so my plan is that I’ll walk in first and close the door then I’ll tell Calum he has a surprise in the hall and you’ll be standing there when he opens the door.”

“Okay” I smiled barely able to hold in a squeal of excitement.

Ashton then went inside and I heard mumbled voiced inside the room. I heard Calum loudly groan probably because he didn’t want to get up from his seat but I could tell he did anyway because his heavy foot steps were getting closer. My heart sped up with every step I heard and felt like it stopped when the door handle twisted. The door then swung open to reveal a shocked Calum.

“I-I-I” he stuttered and didn’t get another word out. He dropped to his knees and held your legs while letting out sobs. “I missed you so much y/n oh my god I love you so much.”

“I missed you too calum don’t cry, you’re starting to make me cry.” I lightly giggled and whipped under my eyes. Calum slots up and one quick movement and held my face in his hands staring into my glossy eyes while tears still fell from his.

“I’m never going on tour without you again” he said before pulling my face towards his and landing a passionate kiss on my lips. When I tried so pull away for breath and due to the other boys cheering and hollering but Calum chased my lips and gently pulled me back to him for another kiss.

This is was I missed most...

Being with the love of my life.

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pretty-setter-bois · 3 years

Text

your outro

ONE YEAR LATER

“(Y/N)! GLAD YOU could make it!” atsumu notices you entering the restaurant, waving you over.

“hi, everyone.” you smile.

your friends from highschool are already here, after a month of planning to suit your busy schedules. courtesy of atsumu, of course.

“hey.” aran grins.

“hey.” osamu raises an arm.

“hello.” kita smiles.

conveniently, the only open seat is next to him. he shares his menu with you, although you end up ordering the same thing.

the five of you catch up, atsumu casually throwing in unnecessary yet amusing comments with osamu there to regulate him. of course, aran is there to keep the conversation going, too.

somewhere along the way, volleyball gets brought up into the conversation, leading into a one-sided debate between aran and atsumu. osamu pays attention for the fun of it.

“you okay?” kita casually whispers in your ear.

“why wouldn’t i be?” you tilt your head to the side. “we’re all together, we’re having fun.”

he stares at you for a bit, looking sympathetic. “you know it’s not all of us.”

you don’t reply. he’s right.

as much as the topic is better to avoid, it’s almost impossible to miss the fact that one of their old teammates is absent.

you try not to mull over it. after all, you did come here to have fun.

“it’s fine.”

“drinks for all of us!” atsumu declares, cutting your conversation short.

you chuckle, looking at kita once more. “let’s have some fun?”

he nods, directing his words to atsumu, “we need at least two of us to be sober.”

“me.” osamu casually offers.

“i’ll be the second. the rest of you, go all out.” he laughs.

kita’s laugh is nice. so are several aspects to him. in fact, it’s almost impossible for you to find flaws in kita.

as much as you do care for him (one will even go as far as saying you love him), you know you can’t get back in another relationship for at least a while.

kita knows that, too, and he’s very respective of your decision. that doesn’t mean the two of you don’t think it over every once in a while, though.

“(Y/N)! drink something!” atsumu says.

“unlike you, not all of us are free from work tomorrow.” you tease. “i have an important meeting.”

“you’re no fun.” he pouts, though you know he’s joking. “we’re here to celebrate!”

“and what are we celebrating, exactly?” you cock an eyebrow.

he pauses for a bit. “it’s been one year since our team participated in the olympics!”

“10 months.” osamu corrects.

“so what, i just forgot a few months!”

“you’ve been obsessing over the olympics for months prior to the event itself. you wouldn’t forget an important detail like that.”

“do i really need an excuse to hang out with my friends?”

“no, but if you’re going to come up with an excuse, don’t lie about it.”

osamu seems to have said something he shouldn’t have, because you can feel the slight vibration of the table as something hit it. atsumu instantly reaches for his foot, mumbling something incoherent.

although you never really understand what they fight about, the twins never cease to bring a smile to your face with their banter.

“it’s been a year since… (Y/N) became an independent woman!”

osamu sighs.

“too soon?”

another kick is sent under the table, this time hitting atsumu. he goes for his other foot, softly massaging it through the shoe as he insults his brother.

“if you keep that up, i won’t be able to use my feet.”

“you hit yourself the first time.”

“shut up!”

you chuckle a bit, and atsumu is relieved that the topic isn’t sensitive for you to speak about.

“to independant women.” you raise a glass.

“do independant women!” atsumu raises his, despite it being almost empty.

“to independant women.” osamu raises his glass of water, intentionally clanking into atsumu’s.

“hey!”

“to independant women.” aran grins, raising his drink.

“to independant women.” kita smiles, raising his glass of water.

the five of you simultaneously drink out of your glasses, despite the difference of liquid within them.

the men find themselves arguing over how to split the bill, and you find that as an opening to sneak outside.

as much as you do enjoy spending your time with them, there are times that you need for yourself.

you never think that you’ll find yourself staring at the same sky again, and you could have sworn that you promised yourself to leave behind this city.

it was hard, and you caved after a little over a year.

it’s also hard to believe that it has been that long. a whole three-hundred-sixty-five days, and you still haven’t gotten over everything.

“hey.”

speak of the devil.

“who thought i’d find you here?” the voice speaks again.

you turn to face the familiar tone, not surprised to find the one you left behind. he doesn’t look much too different.

“hi.” you say, not really wanting to indulge in conversation.

“so, what are you doing out here?”

“i could ask you the same.”

“just on a walk.”

a pause takes place. the both of you know that the conversation is awkward from the start. there are far too many unspoken words, far too much meaning behind them.

“you look great.” he says again.

“thanks.”

“you changed up your hair.”

“yeah.”

“i always liked it better when it was long.”

“i think it looks better this way.”

another silence. this one is a bit shorter than the last, but it’s long enough for you to decide that you want closure.

“how did things go with the olympics?”

“ended a few weeks after.”

a few words are missing from the context, but the two of you have managed to understand each other with no misconceptions.

he knows you’re speaking about her, and you know what he means when he says after.

“i’m sorry.” he mutters.

you’re holding yourself back from shouting at him, yelling that he can’t apologize after all this time from being away and what he’s done.

“was it a coincidence that we met here?” you say instead.

“no.” he sighs. “they told me they were busy tonight, and i made a lucky guess that you’d all be here.”

“you wanted to speak with me?”

“yeah. you needed some closure after all this time.”

“so will you answer my questions truthfully?”

“to the best of my abilities.”

“for how long?”

he sucks in a breath, “a few months.”

“for how long?” you repeat.

“three months.”

you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. as much as you hate admitting it, crying was inevitable when you think of what happened.

“when did you meet?”

“that day i brought you to the jelly-stick stand, when i had to leave early.”

“what’s her name?”

“that’s kind of irrelevant now.”

you chuckle a little. then it turns into a full blown laugh, and you’re bent over your knees trying to catch your breath.

“i really, really wanted to believe that you had changed.” you say. “it’s not realistic for people to change, but part of me wanted you to. part of me hoped for you to.”

“i…”

“the same part of me that can’t get you out of my head.”

he faces you with his eyes widened, but you pay him no mind as you continue to stare up at the moon.

“i’m… i know what i did was wrong, but-”

“there isn’t a ‘but’, and you and i know that well.” you sigh. “as much as i still think about you, i can’t put myself through something like that again. even before that incident with her — and i don’t know her name because you’re not telling me — i was beginning to feel out of place.”

“i-”

“don’t say you’re sorry. you and i both know that won’t do anything.” you say. “but if you were right about something, it had to be that i’d become a shell of myself.”

he knows that what you’re saying has been on your mind for a while. “i understand what you mean-”

“you don’t understand, suna. i’ve never felt more free in my life than i do now.”

“oh.” he breathes out — he notes the use of his last name. “i didn’t realize i’d put that much pressure on you.”

“you’re smart.” you say. “you just didn’t want to realize.”

you are right, and he’s surprised to have seen you caught on. it’s hard to forget someone, someone you used to feel every emotion that you can possible feel towards. ten years of your life that the old you will claim to be the happiest, but the new you knows better.

“oh, yeah.” you shuffle for something inside your pocket. “i’ve been meaning to give you this, incase we met up randomly at a time like this.”

he’s handed the ring he gave you over a year ago, in almost pristine condition. you don’t wear it often, but that is a given considering the meaning behind it. it rests in his palm, and he makes no effort to put it away.

“(Y/N), you alright?” you faintly hear kita shout from the dark.

“yeah, i’m fine!” you shout back.

he’s too far away to see you, but the sound of your voice is enough reassurance for him to stay put.

“we’re finished with the bill, do you want us to come?”

“no, it’s fine. stay in the car, i’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“alright.”

“so, kita?” suna questions. “anything going on between you?”

“i don’t think it’s your place to ask.” you say words similar to his own when speaking of her.

“you’re right, my bad.”

“well, i should get going. it was nice to get some closure, i guess.”

“do you ever think about what could’ve been?”

you sigh, “we’re not having this conversation. you and i both know it’s futile.”

“you’re right.” he murmurs. “this must’ve been how you felt before.”

“what do you mean?”

when he doesn’t answer, you look up at his face. suna rintaro isn’t a very emotional person, so it’s a surprise to see small, subtle tears falling down his face — almost invisible in the moonlight.

“i really put you through a lot, huh? and i made you cry again tonight.” he sighs.

“i have to get going.”

“so this is goodbye?”

“yeah, i guess so.”

“will i see you around?”

“we both know the answer to that.”

you turn around, beginning to walk to the parking lot with heavy steps. before you can get very far, he calls out to you once more.

“katsumi sato.”

“huh?” you face him.

“that’s her name.”

a small pause settles into the air, with an accompanying breeze.

“like you said before,” you say. “it’s irrelevant now.”

you turn on your heels for the final time, your footsteps much faster than before. you don’t want any distractions or last-minute stops.

suna watches you go, wiping the small tears of his own. the droplets of water were but a fraction of what you had to endure for a long time, all because of him.

he should’ve known that the wholesome, friendly interactions the two of you had in highschool could never develop into anything more.

even if you’d gotten to know him more than anyone else, he should’ve never accepted your confession without thinking it through. he should’ve never kept moving on with the next step of your relationship just for the thrill of it.

after all, the relationship was doomed from beginning.

it was good until it wasn’t.

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NOTES ♕❣⁂ღ

hello, everyone! firstly, i would like to thank everyone that has commented and left asks about the story, all of you really kept me going! at some point, i lost all inspiration for this story and even considered discontinuing it, but i coudn’t. it’s been a nice journey between the innerworkings of a toxic relationship, and i feel like i can... truly understand what the mc feels like now (i don’t know if that makes sense?). again, thank you for sticking around, and i hope to see you all in the next series i have planned!

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