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#I can’t find anything about people talking about my mind so I’m just screaming into an echo chamber rn
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Please tell me someone else has started reading Winter Soldier: Cold Front and is also being very normal about it and losing their mind.
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highvern · 3 months
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Drive Me Crazy
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x f!reader
Genre: smut
warnings: strangers to lovers, virgin!JK, dry humping, oral sex, cum eating
Length: ~3.7k
Note: yes i'm insane. no i won't be taking further questions. thank u @gyuswhore for chaperoning my descent into JK madness
summary: You're not the only one with a shitty dating life. Your driver seems to be having a worse night than you can imagine. But things take a turn for the better in the backseat of his car.
m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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“Uber for Y/N?” you ask, stumbling into the backseat. “Thanks. God, you wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man, Ian according to the information on the app, gasps. 
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You’re a wreck; makeup running, clothes damp from the rain peppering on the window. The last thing you want is some hot guy as your driver for the short journey back to your apartment but at this point you can’t muster the energy to care. 
“Uhhh—”
“You probably don’t want to hear about my shitty night.”
“Well that and—” he starts, cut off before he can say more by your tipsy motormouth. 
“Where does a man get off telling me he isn’t interested in gold diggers when he’s a public school teacher? No offense but what gold?” you ramble. “Not to mention, when I told the waiter to split the bill he asked if I thought he didn’t have any money. Like make up your mind dude.”
“What the fuck?” he asks lowly.
You nod in agreement, hands thrown wide in exasperation. “That’s what I’m saying!”
“That’s fucked up.”
The thickness of his voice doesn’t register in your mind, a broken edgy scratching at the edges of your brain but it doesn’t signal any significant interest “Oh, that's not even the worst part.”
“There’s more?”
“He said ‘I asked too many personal questions.’”
“Like?”
“What he liked to do for fun, if he’s originally from the city, do you like dogs or cats? Literally anything I could think of because apparently he’s allergic to carrying a conversation.” In your hand, your phone rings with an unsaved number. “Hello?”
“Hi, this is your Uber. Did you mean to cancel your ride?”
“What?”
“Ian from Uber? I’ve been circling the block and haven’t found you and you weren’t answering your phone.”
“Oh! I’m sorry I’ll just—cancel. Yep. Bye.” You stare at the equelly unease expression on Not-Uber Driver Ian’s face, muddled brain racing. If he isn’t your driver that means you got into the car with a random man. 
“Who the fuck are you?” you scream. 
“Who the fuck are you?” he yells back.
You fiddle with the door handle, unable to grab a hold with shaky hands. “Oh my god, you’re a kidnapper.”
“I’m not a kidnapper!”
“That’s what a kidnapper would say!” You fumble for the pepper spray in your bag only to find it absent. It’s not your usual bag. It’s the nicer one that barely fits your phone and chapstick. Damn it.
“YOU GOT IN MY CAR,” he argues.
He makes a good point. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I tried but you talk a lot.” 
Another good point.
“Oh my god, what the hell,” you gasp. “Why are you sitting here with the doors unlocked? I could have robbed you.”
“I used my last five bucks to buy this ice cream. Just kill me instead.”
You balk. “That’s so sad.” 
“Yeah, I’m aware.”
“You’re a horrible kidnapper.”
“And you’re a pretty shitty carjacker so I’d say we’re even.”
If he was dangerous he's had plenty of time to prove it. Instead, when he looks back over the center console, all you see is the red rimmed eyes of a kicked puppy with a bird nest for hair. A ridiculous expression for a man of his size but you pity him nonetheless. He’s harmless. Pathetic. But harmless. 
There’s a story about him and you’ve always been curious. “Okay, not-Ian, why are you sitting in a parking lot eating ice cream on a Friday night? Kidnapper thing aside, this is just sad.” 
He’s hot. Even in nothing but sweats and his own misery. The intimidating kind of handsome that people, men and women, pine over. Hand themselves over on a silver platter if he so much as asked.
“Thanks,” he grunts, going for another spoon of ice cream. 
“So why are you upset?” The rain outside intensifies, setting the scene to bare your souls in his cramped Toyota.
“Ugh…” he hesitates. 
“You don’t have to tell me, but I don’t think it can be any more embarrassing than what I just went through.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Why not? If it’s more embarrassing then I won’t steal a bite. Is that chocolate?”
“Cookie dough,” he corrects. “This girl I’ve been talking to ditched me.”
“Because?”
He prepares with a deep breath, steeling himself against whatever motive his fling had. “I’m a virgin.”
“What?” you ask dumbly. Virgin.
Chin tipped back, he swipes at his face in embarrassment. “I told you it's embarrassing.”
“You’re eating your feelings because you’re a virgin?”
“Yes.” He waits for your interjection. When it doesn’t come he hesitantly continues. “And the last person I told laughed in my face and started hooking up with my roommate. So…”
“What a bitch.”
“Yeah. People just assume I’m some kind of man whore.” He explains, head banging against the wheel. “But I’ve never done anything besides… ya know?”
“I have no idea, complete stranger.”
“Like hand stuff.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely a virgin,” you snort. “Move over, I’m coming up.”
Shimmying into the front seat takes more coordination than you’re prepared for. The hem of your dress rises to brazen heights, a draft curling around the edge of your panties. Its a feeling you assumed would be happening with your date and not in the car with a random stranger. But beggars can’t be choosers. At least it’s good ice cream.
He pointedly avoids looking anywhere close to your legs. Polite. Innocent. Virginal. How cute.
“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.” His eyes roll as you settle into the passenger seat, snatching the container and taking a bite from the same spoon he’d been using. 
“Sorry,” you say after swallowing. “Is it because you don’t want to? Because that girl can go fuck herself then.”
“No, I just, I don’t know. I get nervous? They’re expecting someone who knows what they’re doing and I have no idea. And then all I can think about is what if I’m bad at it which makes me more nervous and then I feel like throwing up.”
“Please tell me you haven’t thrown up on a girl.” 
“Ew, no,” he laughs, taking a bite for himself. “I just make an excuse to slow down and then leave.”
“Okay. Well…” You try to think of something, anything, that could make him feel better. It’s not everyday a stranger spills their guts about lacking sexual experience. “So what if you’re bad? It’s not like you can’t get better.”
“Okay, but what girl wants to sleep with a guy who’s bad in bed?”
“How do you know you’re bad if you’ve never even tried? It’s different if you’re bad and you don’t care. Just tell whoever you're with you’ve never done it before. If they don’t jump at the chance to teach you then they can fuck off.”
“Well, Mina rubbed my face in it—”
“Oh fuck her. She seems like a bitch.”
“You’re not wrong,” he says. 
Rain drizzles on the windshield, obscuring the lights into messy streaks. A flood of memories surrounding your own virginity rush to the forefront.
Your college boyfriend, Jimin, wanted to wait. It was cute. High school sweethearts going to the same school, taking similar classes, holding hands in the library. You thought he wasn’t ready and you respected it, found it endearing that he wasn’t like most of the guys your friends dated that couldn’t wait to do it.
Or you did until you decided to surprise Jimin for his birthday with breakfast in bed and got your own surprise. A girl, naked in his bed, Jimin’s own clothes scattered around the room.
You broke up with him right there. Two days of crying later, you invited your lab partner, the one Jimin couldn’t stand, over.
It was Yoongi that sent a selfie of you two cuddled up in bed to Jimin. He still likes to cash in on that favor whenever he needs a dog sitter.
Yoongi knew there were no feelings involved. A simple favor in the form of revenge against a shitty ex. Maybe not-Ian is your chance to pay it forward. By the looks of things, you wouldn’t be suffering.
“Ya know, some girls like guys who are inexperienced. It’s hot knowing you can teach someone how to be good in bed. Like an ego boost.” You shrug. If he wasn’t looking at your legs before but he sure is now. Pink ears and round eyes, his fingers twitch in his lap as you suck the spoon clean. At least the hour spent shaving your legs isn’t going to waste. “Besides, you obviously care how the other person feels, which is more than some dudes.”
“Why would someone not care if the other person feels good?” he asks, tone laced with disgust. “That seems like the entire point.”
“The world is full of mysteries.”
“My name is Jungkook by the way.”
Jungkook. Fitting somehow. It tastes good on your tongue. Like the cookie dough ice cream.
“Y/N.”
You end up in his lap in true stereotypical fashion. A too long silence, his eyes on your mouth and yours on his. Someone leans forward and now you know Jungkook is a great kisser with even greater upper body strength.
His inexperience shows in the fine details: shaky hands, hesitant tongue, waiting for you to take the lead as not to offend. It’s endearing. Someone as big as him treating you with such gentleness. But it means he’s thinking about messing this up and that’s the opposite of what you want. 
You kiss him deeper, a grip on the side of his neck that he eagerly surrenders too. Your other hand wedges between your chests. Teeth nipping at his lip, you rock against him, palming against the soft cotton sweats until he’s plump in your hand. 
“God,” he chokes. His own hands busy themself on your body, one at the seat of your ass, teasing the edge of your dress where bare skin peaks out while the offers a tight grip at your chest, pinching your nipple in desperate retaliation.
“Feel good?” You rut again, a tease for your own pleasure in the form of Jungkook’s heavy breath. It’s decent contact on your core, not enough to get you off but plenty for right now.
Kissing is well in his realm of experience. Obvious from how quickly he finds his bearings, licking behind your teeth. It’s good. Better than dry humping his thigh in the front seat should be. Vision dark from his hands frantic at your ass, thighs rising to meet every torturous curl against the heat of his lap.
You fall into his shoulder, drool staining his sweater as you pant. “Ever had your dick sucked?”
“No.” 
A vein raises across his neck and becomes your new guidemap. Your hand at his crotch squeezes, his cock twitching at the action. “Do you want to?”
“You don’t have to,” he hisses. 
You squeeze his cock again, enough for a needy drive of his hips in response. “I want to.” 
“Seriously?” he marvels.
“If it’s cool with you.” You nose along his jaw, teeth scraping red over his skin. His stomach dips under your hand. “Get in the back, I don’t need to get caught with your dick in my mouth.”
“Holy shit, don’t say that.” He kisses you again, firmer this time. 
You crawl back through the narrow opening between the front seats, ass on full display for Jungkook’s eyes. The heat of his palm ghosts over your legs but he doesn’t touch. The deliberate arch in your spine isn’t enough to break his self control just yet.
He comes next. The struggle is endearing, half stuck between the seats and wiggling forward. “I think I’m stuck.”
“Why didn’t you just go around?” You snort, grabbing around his arms and pulling to no avail.
“Too late now.”
You're both laughing. Breathless because Jungkook is lodged between the seats with zero hope. “Why are you so heavy?”
He wiggles through with your help, nearly elbowing you in the head in the process. But he’s in the seat with his lap as prime real estate. You try to commandeer the space once again but Jungkook stops you. Instead, he settles between your legs, weight pinning you into the door. Broad shoulders block out the light but you take it in stride, fisting the back of his sweater as he finds your pulse.
“Can I go down on you?” He nuzzles down your throat, mouthing the spots he’s learning make you putty in his hands.
“Yeah, sure,” you hiccup. “That’s fine.” 
Jungkook crams between your legs, bending in half on the floor like a contortionist. The sparse kisses across your thighs would be a blatant tease if nervousness wasn’t rolling off him in waves. He’s eating pussy for the first time and acting like it’s open heart surgery.
“Calm down.” You brush a hand through his hair, attempting to be comforting. 
“I am calm.” A bold faced lie. Even in the darkness of the backseat the signs of his impending nerves are obvious. 
“You’re shaking,” you say. “I’ll tell you what feels good. You’re not gonna mess it up.”
An open mouth on your core kiss leaves you sweating with a weak hum. At least he knows where the clit is. Or has a vague idea of its presence. Jungkook presses his face further into the cotton, suffocating himself without realizing. 
“O-oh,” you hitch.
Humiliation brews from such a visceral reaction to something as basic as a kiss over your panties. But Jungkook is out of his depth here and any reaction will stroke his confidence. 
He ducks away, watching you with rapt attention. You’re the teacher and he’s a student eager for whatever validation that may fall from your lips. “Good?” 
“Yeah, do it again,” you praise. 
He nods before diving back in, throwing your legs over his shoulders for better reach. Your pulse jumps with juvenile eagerness. Like it’s the first time you’re left with a boy unsupervised and his hand is the first real thing to touch you between the legs. It makes you feel dirty. Has your hairline sweat and tongue go dry. A bold wash of his tongue couples the next kiss, hot and wet as he laps against the fabric until your own arousal mixes with spit. 
"You fucking liar,” you croak. The back of your head knocks against the window, hips rolling into his mouth.
"What?” Jungkook asks, leaning back but just barely. His breath fans over your skin, a shiver crawling up your spine. “Did I do something—" 
“It’s good. So good,” you praise. “Touch me more.”
He jumps at the chance. Your panties tear down your thighs, out of the way with some rough maneuvering. Bare for his eyes, Jungkook takes more than a fill before diving in for another taste. But not until he spits on your clit and rubs in the mess with his thumb. Your thighs spread wider to accommodate a hard pass of his mouth, more wet kisses burning your cheeks.
“Jungkook, fuck,” you sigh. “When you said ‘hand stuff’ what did you mean?”
“I’ve touched a vagina before if that's what you're asking.”
You swat his hand. “Don’t say vagina, it makes me feel like I’m at the gynecologist.”
“Sorry, a pussy.”
“Don’t say it like that either, weirdo. Have you fingered one?”
Pointed silence is answer enough.
“It’s okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you. Just don’t put a finger in my ass and you’ll be fine.”
He doesn't laugh at your poor attempt to cut the tension but he releases a weighted sigh, muscles sagging an inch. Better. Instead, he focuses on stroking you to life between your folds, fingertips nudging your bud teasingly. 
“Use your mouth some more and then finger me too,” you beg. 
“Uh—how many? I don't wanna hurt you." He’s unsure despite the obvious twitch in your thighs. It burns depravity through your veins. His innocence is hot. Jungkook doesn’t even realize how fucked up he has you from some softcore porn level touching.
"All of them. I don't care, I’ll tell you if it’s too much."
One hand firm on your stomach, keeping your dress out of the way as he spreads your insides with two. The first strokes are meek. Nothing to scream over but he’s learning and that’s what's important. Seconds tick by and Jungkook finds a hesitant rhythm. Wet noises echo with each slow sheath, reserved but stretching you all the same. The wet strokes of his tongue are there too, placating just in case. A soft curl of his fingers makes your hips cant into his mouth. 
The fogged windows are a dead give away to what's playing out in the backseat. If anyone stumbles down the sidewalk then you’re both dead but Jungkook’s mouth is distracting in the worst way.
And then he licks between his fingers, tongue slipping past his knuckles for a pure taste of your arousal. You go fuzzy at the edges, thighs squeezing tight until he’s forced to keep them spread or risk having his head crushed.
“Oh–fuck me, god.”
It’s not fair. For him to be good at this so quickly. To delude himself into thinking he could possibly be bad, trying to convince you he’d be bad. Complete unfair how ill prepared you were for Jungkook worshiping your pussy like he’s never tasted anything better.
He really needs to be more confident because, in the cramped back seat of his car, you’re losing your mind and it’s barely been ten minutes.
“Can I—” he asks around your clit.
“Do whatever you want, just don’t stop,” you ramble. “Jungkook, fuck.”
A hand of your own sinks into his hair, angling his chin for better access. Wet echoes fill the car, sharp mewls from your lips adding to the noise. Nerves blazing, your ride his mouth for all its worth. Eager slippery circles of his tongue against your clit intensify, built on praising moans of his name.
“Fuck. Tastes good,” he grunts. A squeeze of your hand, the one not pulling his hair and then he’s finding your chest, blind groping until you guide him to your nipple and curve into the sting of his grip. He twists it. Hard. 
You want to cry. The sweat suck of his mouth, fingers confidently curling it that spot that makes the air thinner in your lungs. Moans die between your teeth. Too quick into the next sensation to revel. There isn’t a thought other than Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.
“Jungkook!” you cry, grinding into his fingers. Your teeth clench as a third one stretches that extra inch. Stiff in the thighs, you force yourself down into the friction. His tongue hardens, perfect for use as you hump his face weakly.
Your legs kick, scrambling under the sharp pleasure. He’s got you melting into nothing right on his carseat. Jungkook doesn’t lean back to ask for more confirmation; just takes the signs for what they are and keeps going with renewed stamina at the promise of your pleasure. 
“I’m gonna—oh, god. Yessss,” you hiss. Nails sharp against the back of his neck, Jungkook buries his face in your cunt. 
You go rigid, voice breaking into a desperate whimper. Jungkook has the sense to keep going, lashing at your clit over and over with each desperate pulse of pleasure through your veins. Flashes flare behind the darkness of your eyes squeezed tight. You make a few more desperate noises, lurching in his hold before falling lip and worn.
“Fuck, okay. Okay,” you whine, pushing him away from your core before the stimulation becomes too much.
His mouth is drenched, cheeks and chin smeared with your orgasm. A flash of tongue collects some of the mess but you drag him into a kiss before he can go for seconds. First time eating pussy and he’s one for one. If that doesn’t help his confidence then nothing else will. 
“Give me a second and I’ll blow you,” you pant into his lips. 
“I-it’s okay.”
You pout at the brush off, a deep kiss as you invade his space. “I promise I want to.”
Your hand goes for his pants just to be captured with his own. His fingers are still soaked from your insides. “No, I…I came too.”
“Really?” you ask in awe.
Jungkook is embarrassed again. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. That’s hot.” You kiss him again with a gentle suckle along the curve of his lower lip. Jungkook drinks it in, crowding you back into the door again like you aren’t a pile of mush. Your back hurts from hunching over for so long but you let him keep you tangled up for a little while longer just to feel the shuddering exhale from his nose across your cheek. “Can I see?”
He swallows thickly before rolling down his sweats. The thin fabric of his boxers are wet, sticky under your shaky hand. You dip below the waist band, fingers grazing the limp ridge of his cock. He’s stuck in the inbetween of soft and hard but still hot and heavy in your hold. Your core throbs in interest at the feeling. 
Jungkook shivers as you swipe at the slit, collecting a bead of cum. You want to get your mouth on him but he looks like he might cry if you keep playing with it.
When your hand retreats, rising to your lips for a taste, his eyes round, mouth gaping over silent words. The pink of your tongue comes out, lapping at the thick mess coating your thumb. 
“Is it okay if I get your number?” he asks after the initial shock wears away.
“Yeah,” you snort. “You can have my number. You can give me a ride home too. And we can do that again in my bed.”
The glee on his face is worth the disgusting mess between your thighs. “Hell yeah.”
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Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie
@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire
@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes
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@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin @isabellah29
@luvseungcheol @crisle19
© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.
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darnell-la · 1 month
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𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗟𝗬 𝗠𝗜𝗫
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pairing: dark!dom!Logan Howlett x non-mutant!fem!reader
warning: drugging, head butting, oral (fem receiving), nightmare fuck, woken from sleep, rough fuck, multiple orgasms, obsession, etc.
note: we can’t stop writing about this man. he’s everything we need.
please like, COMMENT, follow, reblog, and REQUEST us!
follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits and memes of the people we write about!
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𝟯𝗥𝗗 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗣𝗢𝗩
“Maybe you’re just no one’s type anymore, sugar. That attitude doesn’t sit well on women like you,” Logan said across the bar after hearing y/n complain to Storm that it’s hard to find a person she’s interested in.
“Or maybe you can mind your business!?” Y/n turned to look his way with a yell. Storm slightly touched her back to calm her now. “No! — I’m tired of him talking. It’s not like you’re so sweet yourself!” Y/n said.
Logan looked at the frustrated young lady with a grin as he placed his cigar in his mouth. “Ain’t like your dick could stand up still either,” she said, making the people who were listening, laugh.
“Ahh, wouldn’t you like to know,” Logan said, unfazed by the small words she tried to use to hurt his feelings. “Actually, I wouldn’t, because even Jean didn’t want a piece of you. And that was when you were younger,” she said.
People were shocked at her words, still laughing but watching out how much. They knew mentioning Jane was a topic he hated hearing.
“Watch what you say. Just because you ain’t a mutant, don’t mean I won’t handle you,” Logan said. Of course, her heart rate raised, but she stood her ground as she got up from the bar seat.
“Try me,” she said, making the metal-boned man laugh as he approached her. He could see her chest rise, knowing she wanted nothing she challenged him to do.
Logan looked back at Storm who was shaking her head as she pointed at the shit glasses y/n had downed. A whole tray that hold at least fifteen was insane for a human.
Logan looked back at y/n understanding why she felt so much emotion tonight. Her eyes were glossy and she slightly swayed back and forth. She was definitely halfway to passing out.
Logan leaned forward, mouth slightly grazing Y/n’s ear. “Go to bed, sweet cheeks,” Logan said as his hot breath hit the side of her face before heading to his room.
It’s been a few weeks since the incident at the bar with Logan. Y/n decided to keep it cool for a while until no one expected anything.
“Logan, can you please get my phone from the living room while I cook, please?” Y/n asked. He sighed loudly, always grumpy about something as he got up and walked out of the kitchen.
Y/n quickly pulled two pills out of her pocket and dropped them into his full glass of liquor. She had gone through the pharmacy they had for mutants downstairs, and searched for something that would make him rethink what he said to her.
Y/n went to walk away until she stopped and thought of his constant bullying since she got here.
Y/n pulled two boxes from her other pocket, took every pill from their wrapper, and dumped them in his drink. “One for your lazy dick, and the other energy since I should go to sleep early,”
Y/n quickly through the trash in the bin before running back to continue cooking. “Almost done,” she smiled as he placed her phone down with a fake smile back.
“For a mutant, you sure do get tired walkin’ room to room,” y/n snickered as he downed his drink. If he looked at the glass, he would’ve noticed something off, but he didn’t think of it.
“Does liquor get old these days? Fuckin’ hell,” Logan spoke with a few coughs. Y/n did her best, to keep her laughing. He had no clue.
“Logan, relax!” Y/n heard Scott yell somewhere in the mansion. At first, she thought they were arguing again until something broke and Jane screamed. What the hell is going on?
Y/n quickly got up from her bed and ran out of her room, toward where ever they were. “Logan, relax! Y-You’re safe!” Jane spoke. She’s told y/n she had to use those words whenever he got out of control.
“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked as she stepped around the corner. Logan’s head instantly snapped towards her. “No,” Scott said, having a feeling what Logan was going to do.
“Y/n, stay back. H-He’s not doing well right-“ Jean spoke but got knocked out of the way by Logan running towards y/n. As well as Scott.
Y/n tried to run, but before she could turn all the way around, he grabbed her, quickly throwing her over his shoulders before running away.
“Hey! — Let me go, Logan! Stop it!” She yelled as he ran towards the front door. Where was he taking her? Why was he taking her? He almost made it out of the mansion with her in hand until Storm used the wind to drag y/n back.
Logan stumbled, realizing she wasn’t in his hold anymore. He turned around stepped forward followed after y/n was dragged back until he looked up to see the whole crew staring right back at him.
Logan let out a loud growl before running off and out into the darkness of night.
“What the fuck!” Y/n shouted as Storm lifted her up and Jean checked her for any bruises. “What the hell is his problem?” Y/n asked as Scott ran out of the house to see where Logan had run off.
“Motherfucker’s taking my bike!” Scott shouted. “We don’t know. He was sitting on the couch, eatin’ the rest of the food you cooked, as always, then — then he started switching,” Jean said.
“At first it was mild, but I noticed it first. He then asked where you were and if we thought you’d be asleep yet,” Storm said. “We said we didn’t know, and he instantly grew angry,” Jean said.
“Motherfucker got up to go to your room and I stopped him before he could,” Scott said as he ran back into the mansion. It was late and y/n was confused. What was happening?
Y/n’s currently in her room as the crew took the yet to go find Logan. Xavier came with them. He said, maybe if he got closer to Logan, he could ease into his mind.
The school has been out for a couple of weeks, so the kids are either with their parents or in buddy groups somewhere in instate.
This means y/n has the whole mansion to herself on one of the worst days possible. While an animal is loose. A wild animal.
Y/n thought if she closed her eyes and went to sleep, she wouldn’t stress as much, so that’s what she did. Now she’s deep in her sleep, dreaming about what she was trying to distract herself from. Logan.
Logan was chasing her through the long halls. Every door being locked and the hall getting longer was the most terrifying part of the nightmare.
He chased her for what felt like hours. Each time he spoke, it felt like he was closer.
“Don’t run” “Stay still” “Mhm — That’s it” “All that shit talkin’ and you’re cryin’. Pathetic,” he said with a chuckle following behind his voice.
“Please, someone help!” She yelled in her dreams as she felt his breath on her neck. She was caught. Logan grabbed y/n and dragged her to a room that would’ve been locked for her.
“You’re a fast one, but I’ve gotcha,” he growled low as he hovered over the girl, lips inches from hers. “Smellin’ so good for me. You’re such a tease,” Logan ripped her clothes off. They disappear into dust. She knew she had to be dreaming.
“Runnin’ from me, but you’re soaked. You’re a lair, baby,” he said as he slipped her panties off, sniffing them before placing them in his back pocket. “Now how about ya cum for me?”
Y/n woke up slowly, hearing a voice in her room. “Now how about ya cum for me?” She heard for the second time, but in between her legs. Y/n whined as she looked down, not knowing what was happening until she saw him.
Logan was in between her legs, sucking on her pussy like a starved man. “Logan!” She screamed, scared at first until her back arched from the full effect of his tongue all over and between her folds.
Logan watched her reaction as he ducked on her hard, eating her out rougher than before. He’s been at this for. Good thirsty minutes and still couldn’t get enough.
“Gimme another,” he said. “What? — I-I don’t- Fuck,” y/n’s eyes rolled back. He was working her just right. He knew he was. He’s been waiting all night. From when he was eating the rest of dinner, to when he hid in the woods, waiting for the crew to leave, to sneaking in her room, hoping not to wake her up too early.
“Give me a 6th one, heh? Then I’ll fill ya up,” Logan said as he slipped two fingers into her cunt, curling and pumping into her to force another one he so desperately wanted.
The instant pressure of his fingers sent y/n over the edge with a loud cry and shake. She came all over his face, wetting him like a waterpark.
“Fuuuck,” Logan groaned, feeling in heaven. “Can never get tired of that, princess,” Logan said as he crawled up and over her until he attacked his lips onto her, softly.
Y/n kissed back for a second, feeling too deep into the mood. She only lasted for a little bit after she woke up, but she was sure this was the best orgasm she’s ever had.
“Logan- Logan!” Y/n pushed at his chest, making him lean back. “W-We can’t. They’re looking for you and you’re — You’re here eating me out and making out with me and-“ y/n’s mind ran everywhere until he cut her off with a short kiss.
“It’s okay, sugar. I need them out of the house for what I’m about to do to you,” Logan said, confusing her. “Logan — You’re feeling this way because I drugged you,” y/n blurted out.
Logan forced over her as she slapped her hands over her face in embarrassment. “Saying that out loud makes me feel bad, but, yes. I put a whole box of energy pills and Viagra on your drink when you went and grabbed my phone — I-I’m sorry,” y/n genuinely apologizes.
She thought he was going to lash out before she heard him chuckle. That chuckle turned into a laugh as he leaned up off of the bed.
“Baby, I pieced that together when I was in the living room, eatin,” Logan said as y/n backed up against her headboard. “My plan was to go up to your room and confront you before fucking you into your mattress, but Scott stopped me,”
“Then I saw you come around the corner and thought I could fuck you into the dirty in the woods like the low and pathetic slut you are, but Scott stopped me again,”
“So I ran — I knew they’d come looking for me. I waited in the woods for nearly an hour. Cock throbbing. Balls waiting to empty. I wanted to jack one off right then, but I knew it wouldn’t have been enough,”
“Besides — I’d rather fill every whole you’ve got to satisfy my needs,” Logan said before lunging at y/n. Y/n screamed and fought, trying to get from under him, but there was no use. He was stronger and wild. He needed her now.
“Keep fightin, baby. Always seemed hot knowing you couldn’t overpower me, even if you tried,” he mocked as he ripped his jeans off of him, as well as his boxers.
“N-No, no, no! Logan, I-I’m not doing this. I’m not doing — That!” Y/n said after seeing his length. He was long. He was huge. Veins nearly covered the whole thing. His balls looked stiff and in need of release.
“You’re gonna take it. You brought this on yourself, princess,” Logan said as he ripped his shirt off. Y/n had just noticed she was fully naked. He had stripped her from her nightgown when she was sleeping.
“I-It was a mistake!” Y/n tried pushing back as he came in between her legs. “Was it though? I smell how wet you get around me every day. All that anger is just an excuse because you’re too bitchy to ask for my cock,” Logan looked directly into her eyes, just a few inches away.
“Well, you won’t have to ask anymore. I’ve got the picture from now on,” Logan forced his huge length inside of y/n, stretching her walls in an instant. She cried at the pain but moaned at the pleasure.
“Yeah,” he growled, teeth stuck together. “Gonna fuck you all fuckin’ night,” Logan’s hips began to move at an ungodly pace. The huge man leaned over y/n like an inhuman form. Deep down he was.
He placed her legs on his shoulders and pushed down into her like some duck doll he had ready in his room for him.
Her lower back was slightly in the air. She could him thrust into her fully. She was forced to watch him use her cunt like some movie.
“L-Logan,” y/n threw her head back as she came unexpectedly from the angle he had her in. “Look at that waterfall. So fuckin’ pretty,” Logan wished he could slurp her up, but he was too busy digging in her guts for more.
“You know — That comment about Jean back at the bar — It was unnecessary,” Logan began a conversation with y/n. She was so confused about how because she was struggling to keep her mind straight. Her head already seemed light.
“I should’ve dragged you to my room then, but I was calm. Noticed you had a few drinks. Drinks always make sluts act out,” he spat.
“Anyway — About Jean. Yeah, I lost feelings a while ago. You wanna know when? When you came along,” he admitted. “Those sexy jeans and top that hugged your body set me off, quick. Jean was outta there,”
“Then your personality. Sweet and precious but evil to people like me. People who’re assholes,” he leaned closer to her face. “But, you know what, baby? I think you like assholes. Just look at the way you take my cock. I’m basically bullying myself into you,”
He wasn’t wrong. Before y/n signed up to teach at the school slash mansion, she was always caught up with some deuce. She wouldn’t be lying if she said she felt a type of way around Logan after realizing how grumpy and mean he can get.
She didn’t realize at the time, but when he felt the need to let some steam loose earlier today, he asked, looking for y/n. Not Jean. His mind was all on y/n.
“Such a slut — You’re squeezing me,” he teased as he felt himself grow close. “Keep goin’ — I know you like this,” he said as y/n’s mouth parted. The groan leaving Logan’s mouth as he watched y/n cum on his cock for the second time tonight, sent him over the edge.
The man had no words. All he could do was groan and growl loudly as he pounded into her, watching the light leave her eyes. She was definitely done for tonight.
“Fuck!” He yelled, cum spilling into her throbbing cunt. Logan thrust slowly, watching their cum coat his cock. He knew after tonight, that he’d need her every night. He was going to make that happen whether her attitude matched his or not.
866 notes · View notes
sharkorok · 8 months
Text
ooo u want me so bad
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or…grumpy!enha being in luv w u
requested: nope
cw/genre: cursing, grumpy enhypen, fluff, humor, crack-ish, fem!reader, non-idol au, I wrote this during a zoom class, not proofread fuck it we ball, one joke about reader getting jumped?? anyways lmk if anything else should be tagged hehe
a/n: this was inspired by @macahoons grumpy enhypen texts that I just adored!!! Such a cute trope <3
•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
heeseung
-he’s the basketball team captain, always idly boasting about his talents and loves being first place
-the only exception is you.
-he will never admit it but he absolutely lets you win every time you find him at the basketball court and u challenge him to some dumb scoring game where u see how many baskets u each can get
-“OMG HI HEESEUNG!! :3” when u find him at the basketball court and he sighs but he’s trying not to scream at how cute u r lowkey
-ur all giggly when u keep beating him “hee r u even trying?” “I’m just having a bad day don’t even” like he isn’t completely distracted by the way you look when ur grinning at him
-“I think I can take ur place as basketball team captain!” “In ur dreams??” but he’d gladly give it up if you would keep smiling like that
-insists on walking you home from the court because “I’m not gonna be held responsible for you getting jumped”
-and the next time you catch him on the basketball court it happens all over again! <3
jay
-you can’t even finish saying “I’m cold” before his jacket is over your shoulders and he’s scolding you for not being prepared
-sitting down and your skirt is riding up? his uniform blazer is over your lap and he’s shaking his head
-“what would you do without me??” “do you want your jacket back then , jay?” “…no”
-while it’s also because he cares about ur wellbeing, he also just really likes the sight of you wearing his clothes and you smelling like his cologne
-you literally walk into the room and he’s immediately “y/n you need to buy a thicker jacket you’re gonna get sick” not even a good morning or anything…
-“don’t tell people ur wearing my jacket I don’t want them to get the wrong idea 🙄” but lowkey he wouldn’t mind at all
-gets so (internally) giggly when u sink into his jacket because it’s chilly
-finds excuses u give u his clothes at this point …the tiniest piece of lint on ur shirt and he’s handing you his blazer
-“u can keep it ig”
jake
-gets you tiny gifts and acts like he just randomly found them
-he totally went out of his way to find you two matching keychains but he doesn’t wanna admit that
-“y/n I just randomly found your favorite seasonal pastry. no big deal. don’t thank me.”
-BUT HE ALSO KEEPS EVERY GIFT U GET HIM OMGEEE, he has a whole area on his desk dedicated to notes, trinkets, stickers, if you drew on his paper he’ll tear the section off so he can keep it LOL
-will never admit that. to anyone. but gets pressed if you give gifts to anyone else because that’s his y/nnie!! giving HIS gifts to some rando!! D: the cruelty!!
-gets sooo dramatic if he doesn’t get at least a little doodle he’s texting you like you killed a man
-one time his friend asked if he could borrow a pencil and he was like yea man sure and then realizing it was a pencil YOU!! gave him he snatched it back so fast trust
-he’s so cutie patootie but internally…4 now…
-wishes he could get over himself and kiss you all over when you shyly present a little plush toy you won at a claw game he’s RAHHHHH !!!
-for now he’ll stick to “thanks 😒”
sunghoon
-he’s really protective over you me thinks
-but he’ll be really quiet about it, maybe a girl makes you upset and he sees and he’ll “accidentally” knock over her bottled water on her notes, a guy is talking shit about you and sunghoon is squaring up in the courtyard no questions asked
-“sunghoon u dont have to protect me” “it’s not about you” even though it’s totally about you and he will die defending your honor
-one time on your walk out of school a tree branch poked you and u were all like “oh owie : o” and he was following behind before GLARING the shit out of that tree branch…
-another time this guy made a degrading comment about you and sunghoon managed to find receipts on him cheating on his gf and posted it on the school newsletter…cuz he’s silly like that <3
-honestly it’s a little scary the lengths he’ll go for you and still refusing to admit he’s doing it for you
-he’s not really good at comforting you when you cry, so he’ll make sure to protect you from anything that could make you cry
sunoo
-he’ll always listen to you
-if someone said “sunoo can u go grab me a drink from the vending machine” he looks at them like they’re insane but if YOU’RE asking??? he’s sprinting down the hallways
-“it’s literally just because ur lips get all chapped when your dehydrated don’t get an ego,” while he’s handing you like…water purified in Antarctica sourced from glaciers with a little paper umbrella
-even smaller things, he prioritizes your advice
-“guys should I have hot pot or panera for lunch?” and a rando will go, “panera!” and hes dead silent but you go “oh you should totally get hot pot!!” and he’s basically booking a reservation
-probably “accidentally” books a reservation for two and forces you to come since “it’s a waste of table space” if no one else does lol
-also if you don’t like someone he doesn’t like them either
-“sunoo are u friends with Ria?” “shes okay” “she said my makeup looked bad today :(“ and sunoo will act like he dgaf
-but next time you bring her up he scoffs and is all, “why even bother crying about her? she’s not worth your time and she’s annoying anyways” even though he’s never talked to this girl
-tldr ur word > anyone else
jungwon
-always speaks highly of you
-never to your face but he’ll always defend you when necessary, or speak up for you, or just praise you LOL
-“y/n actually scored higher than you, so idk why you’re bragging so loud” to some rando kid talking about test scores lmao
-or “y/n doesn’t like that snack get her another” when your friends are debating how to surprise you
-ur name is always in his mouth but positively LMAO
-brushes it off if you take note of this and says “people are just exaggerating, I barely talk about you, don’t get it twisted >:T” but everyone knows he’ll take any chance he can get to praise you
-“y/n is better tho” and everyone’s like?? who asked??
-it’s endearing but he doesn’t even notice it, he just is proud of you in every shape and form and since he can’t really express it around you he has to project it anywhere else he can hehe
-“jungwon do you think my hair looks okay?” says hee, looking for an actual answer. “y/n’s hair is nicer” responds jungwon, not missing a beat.
-“did you guys know y/n got a 100? isn’t she smart? don’t tell her I said that.”
niki
-does things for you without you asking and then acts like it’s a habit
-it is definitely not a habit for him to run out of his seat to pull out your chair for you, but he insists he literally does it for everyone (he doesnt)
-opens your capped drinks before handing them to you, stops you suddenly to tie your shoelaces, sends you photos of notes if you missed a day..
-“y/n you’d literally be hopeless without me” but he’d be hopeless if anyone else helped you because it’s his job!!
-it makes him feel special when he gets to do so many acts of service for you, for some reason he doesn’t mind running errands or whatnot, he’d much rather he be the one who does it than anyone else
-“y/n u forgot a hair tie today?? ur lucky I brought one” knowing damn well he brought it specifically for you ☹️☹️ cutie
-if the train is full you don’t even have to ask and he’ll let you take his seat “y/n you have weak legs, you need to sit”
-he secretly loves being someone you can rely on, no matter how much he denies it <3
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lunajay33 · 2 months
Text
Where’s my Wife?
Summary: Being pregnant Daryl made sure you were always safe but when the wall of Alexandria fell you had no choice but to run, when Daryl gets back he’s stressed trying to find you
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader
•Masterlist•
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“Are you sure you have to go?” I asked running my hand through his hair, feeling him gently lean into my touch
“I gotta go, I’m doin this for you and the baby, can’t risk them walkers gettin out and headin here” he said as he gripped my hips
“Okay but just….just be careful okay? Please come back to me…to us”
“I’ll be back sunshine” he smiled as he got on his bike, the smile that was reserved for me and me only
“I love you D”
“Luv ya too” and with that he was off following Abraham and Sasha
It took a long time for Daryl to be comfortable with saying I love you, I never pressured him I knew what he’s been through and that this whole relationship thing was new to him so we went at his pace, we met at the quarry first when the world went to hell, he found me in the woods alone about to get eaten by a walker but he was there in time shooting the walker in the head with an arrow, since then he’s protected me, first our relationship was quiet just spending time together in silence, but slowly he got more confidence and started being back little gifts from his trips, flowers, bracelet, my favourite drinks and snacks I had mentioned, eventually along the way I became his girl, everyone in our group knew it and didn’t dare do anything that could risk my life
Walking along the streets I made my way towards the communal kitchen craving some chocolate, hopefully Carol was there to let me have a whole bar
Walking through the door the cool air hit me, refreshing from the hot summer heat
“Hey sweetie, are they gone already?” Carol asked as she was rummaging through the food supplies
“Yeah I don’t know something feels off, I’m just nervous I can’t lose him Carol” I sigh sitting on a chair after taking the chocolate out of the fridge, my legs aching from the extra weight
“There’s always a risk going out there but it’s Daryl, he always comes back, just try to get your mind off of it…..how’s the baby?”
“Oh she’s good, kicking a lot, she loves when Daryl talks to her”
“Her?”
“Just a feeling, call it mothers intuition”
“I never would have guessed that thee Daryl Dixon would be having a baby, you’ve really changed him, he’s the happiest with you”
“Thanks Carol, means a lot…I should probably go watch the perimeter, Daryl told me to take it easy”
“Okay be careful hun”
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I walked the back wall for a while everything was secure except a little opening at the bottom of one of the panels, it wasn’t too big, not big enough for a walker to slide through so I thought nothing of it, that is until screamed started erupting in the streets, seeing men dressed in black murdering people left and right, I didn’t have enough time to get to a house so I went to the opening in the fence, I kicked it a few times inching it open just a bit more, trying to crawl through desperately feeling the fence cut up my side but this was my only choice to live to protect both me and the baby, finally I got through running through the woods, dodging any walkers that were in the path, eventually I made it to a tree house Daryl had showed me a little farther out of Alexandria, climbing the tree as best I could being exhausted and 8 months pregnant
Slumping down in the run down tree house, feeling the adrenaline wear off, who were those people? Who did they hurt and kill? Where was Daryl and how was I gonna get back when I didn’t know when it was safe
Taking a few breaths to calm myself knowing all this stress and pressure on the baby wasn’t good and I couldn’t afford to go into premature labour, the sun was finally setting and the weather was becoming colder, thankfully there was a few blankets in the corner we had brought out here for when we needed a get away
The crickets eventually lulled me to sleep, hoping that when I woke in the morning everything would be okay again
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Daryl pov
After getting shot and the walkers breaking off I just need to get home to protect the only one I’ve every truly loved, she gave me hope when I was finally giving up being pushed around by Merle, when I found her in the woods I knew she was special, never in my life did someone make me feel safe and loved, it was confusing but she never pressured me, then the day on the road she told me she was pregnant I was terrified, we were exhausted low on food and water and she was the only thing keeping me from going off the deep end but she never lost hope that we’d find a home again and like magic the next day we were in Alexandria
The three of us got back to Alexandria to it being run over by walkers, with quick thinking we set the lake on fire and finished off the remaining walkers, running everywhere i screamed for her, slowly the sun was rising when carol came up to me, thankful she was still okay
“Carol have ya seen y/n? I can’t find her”
“I don’t know she came by the kitchen and then she went to watch the perimeter she said then all those wolves came in and I tried to look for her but there was no time”
I ran to the back wall knowing that’s where she usually watched since it had the most shade, finally getting there I searched the wall noticing a break, looking closer there was blood on the ground and covering the edge of the metal, I smashed it open more throwing my crossbow out first before I pushed through, she had to be out her there’s no way I’ve lost her
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Normal POV
The sun beamed through the opening of the tree house waking me from the half decant sleep I had, throwing the dusty blanket to the side I sat up groaning as I forgot about the jagged cut that littered my side
Gazing out of the opening making sure the coast was clear I slowly maneuvered my way down the tree cautious of the baby and my wound, my feet hit the ground and an immense pain shot through my belly as my legs became covered in liquid
“Oh no”
She had decided this was the perfect moment to come out, panicked I made my way back to Alexandria hoping everything has settled and the one person I need right now is back home
As I was making my way through the forest twigs snapped alerting me of something, rather it be a walker than one of those people, but when I approached the noise a shaggy haired man came into few and my heart leapt
“Daryl!” I sighed in relief right before a contraction ripped through my body, leaning against a tree groaning as the pain grew
“Angel what’s wrong?” He asked scared as his hand pressed against my back
“She’s coming Daryl, little Dixon is on her way, the stress must have triggered this”
“I’ll get ya both home and safe” he picked me up like I weighed a feather until we were at the gates
“I was so worried about you D, those men attacked and I didn’t know what was happening I just knew I had to protect myself and this baby”
“Shit happened I wanted to come back but couldn’t risk it, I was lookin all night fer ya” he said laying me down on the bed of the little infirmary
“I’m just glad you’re back”
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Hours of excrutiating pain came to an end when the sound of little cries echoed in the room
“She’s here, ya were right sunshine” Daryl smiled as he held our little girl close, wrapping her in a little white blanket
He sat on the bed next to me showing me the most adorable baby I’ve ever laid my eyes on
“She’s beautiful D! What should we name her?”
“How bought Lexi?” His suggestion shocked me
“Really? Why Lexi?”
“Don’t know always liked it I guess”
“Then Lexi it is, our little baby girl Lexi!”
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wolvietxt · 5 days
Text
𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗆𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌!
pairing : logan howlett x reader warnings : reader has the nightmare, logan doesn’t know much about reader’s past, trauma flashbacks, hurt / comfort wc : 1.2k
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the air in the room was thick, almost suffocating. sleep should’ve been a sanctuary, a place where you could shut down the world and find some peace, but tonight... it was anything but peaceful. the soft hum of the night outside didn’t penetrate the tension. the bed felt like a trap, the sheets twisted around your legs, tightening like they wanted to hold you down.
you jolted awake, gasping. the world felt too real, too solid, and you couldn’t quite shake the vividness of the nightmare clinging to your mind. your chest heaved as you tried to ground yourself, pressing your hands into the mattress, but the fear and memories were still clawing at you.
you were back there - in the past. hands bound, eyes wide open, watching everything but being unable to do a thing. the missions, the screams, the people you’d hurt... it all replayed in slow motion, burning through your mind like it had never really left.
logan stirred beside you, his body instinctively shifting when he felt your movements. he was a heavy sleeper in some ways, but when it came to you, the smallest sign of distress was enough to get his attention. his arm draped over your waist, pulling you closer, his chest pressed against your back. normally, the warmth would be enough to calm you, but tonight you felt like you were drowning in the heat, unable to escape the memories.
“what’s wrong?” logan’s voice was a gravelly whisper, heavy with sleep but alert. his lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke, his breath warm on your skin. “bad dream?”
you didn’t answer right away. you couldn’t. the words felt too heavy, too tangled up in the nightmare. your hands were trembling, and it was only when you realised how tight your grip was on the sheets that you forced yourself to let go.
“yeah,” you finally whispered, voice barely audible. “just a nightmare.”
he didn’t ask for more, didn’t press you. logan wasn’t the type to demand explanations. instead, he shifted so he could pull you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. the weight of him against your back, the solid feel of him, was grounding in a way that nothing else could be.
“you’re safe,” he murmured, his voice rough but soothing. “nothin’s gonna hurt you. i won’t let it.”
the words should’ve been enough. they always had been before, but tonight they weren’t. not because you didn’t believe him - logan would go through hell to protect you - but because the danger wasn’t outside. it was inside you, trapped in your head, a part of the past that wouldn’t let go.
you swallowed hard, your throat tight, and turned to face him. his eyes were heavy-lidded with sleep, but there was a sharpness there, a readiness to do whatever needed to be done if it meant you’d be okay.
“it’s... it’s not about right now,” you started, your voice shaky. “it’s the past. stuff i... i can’t forget.”
logan’s brow furrowed, his thumb brushing absently over your shoulder. he didn’t say anything, just waited. the silence between you was thick but not uncomfortable, the kind of silence that meant he was listening. that he’d listen for as long as you needed, without judgment.
you drew in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but the memories were still fresh in your mind, too close to ignore.
“i keep dreaming about them,” you admitted, your voice quieter than before. “the missions. the people. what i did before... before you.”
logan didn’t react right away, but his hold on you tightened slightly. his jaw clenched, and you could tell he hated that you were still haunted by that part of your life. but he didn’t interrupt, didn’t tell you to stop talking. he just let you get it out.
“i try to let it go. i try to move past it, but it’s like every time i close my eyes, i’m back there. doing things i can’t take back.”
you hated how raw your voice sounded, hated that those memories still held power over you. but more than anything, you hated that even now, after all this time, they could still make you feel like you were drowning.
logan’s hand moved up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek in slow, gentle strokes. his eyes were dark, filled with an understanding that came from his own history, his own pain. you weren’t alone in that, not with him. logan had his own ghosts, his own past that bled into the present in ways he couldn’t always control.
“you did what you had to do,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you survived. and that’s what matters.”
you shook your head, pulling back slightly. “but it doesn’t change what i did.”
“no, it doesn’t,” he agreed, his voice quiet but firm. “but you ain’t the same person anymore. you got out. you’re here. with me.”
he said it like it was simple, like the fact that you were with him was enough to erase everything else. and in a way, maybe it was. logan had a way of grounding you, of pulling you back from the edge of your own mind. he wasn’t one for long speeches or trying to fix things with words. he just... existed with you in the moment. and that was what you needed.
you felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly, not wanting to make a big deal of it. but logan saw. he always saw.
his hand caught yours, stopping you from brushing away the rest of the tears. he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath steady and calming, like an anchor. “you don’t gotta be strong all the time. not with me.”
that did it. the dam broke. you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall freely now, no longer fighting to hold them back. logan didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. he just held you, his arms solid and strong, letting you release the weight of everything you’d been carrying.
the room was quiet except for your breathing, the soft sounds of your sobs fading as the minutes passed. it wasn’t a loud cry, nothing dramatic. just a release, like the pressure had finally built too high, and you couldn’t hold it anymore.
logan held you until your breathing evened out, until the tears dried up and you were left feeling hollow but lighter. his hand kept a steady rhythm on your back, rubbing slow, calming circles.
“you okay?” he asked, his voice softer than before, almost a whisper.
you nodded, your head still pressed against his chest. you felt the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the slow, calming beat of his heart. it was enough to pull you fully back into the present, away from the nightmare.
“i’m okay,” you whispered, even though you didn’t quite believe it. but you would be. with logan, you always ended up okay.
he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there, warm and steady. “good. ‘cause you don’t deserve to be stuck in the past. not when you’ve come this far.”
you closed your eyes again, but this time, there was no nightmare waiting for you. just the warmth of logan’s arms, the steady sound of his breathing, and the quiet promise that whatever came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.
366 notes · View notes
bangchansgirlsblog · 4 months
Note
my dear! I'm your fan, I love your writing. Thank you for taking us out of our reality and allowing us to enter a world of our own! Could I make a request for a crazy idea I had? An anguished Y/N and Chan fight and he tells her to leave and leave him alone. When Y/N leaves in a daze he doesn't see the car and is run over. In the end I trust you. =) If it doesn't bother you and you can fulfill my request, I would be very happy!
Can we turn back time?
Warnings: blood, tragic, angst, accident.
Summary: ^^ Requested
A/N: hey baby :) not the best :/ butttt I hope you like it. Sorry for any grammar mistakes.
**
Her heart was beating at a fast pace. Why was he not understanding what she was trying to say?
“You always come home late Chan! I thought I could have this one night. This one night to ourselves but you chose to go drinking instead?!” She poured her heart out as she stared at her idol boyfriend.
“Please Y/n now now okay? I get you wanna talk but can I please just go to bed? We can talk about it tomorrow,” he pleaded as he put down his black leather jacket on the couch.
His curls sat neatly on his head and his black shirt fitting him perfectly and his jeans neatly ironed.
“Chan it feels like you don’t love me anymore!”
“Well maybe I don’t, okay?!” He got up and yelled. His anger was now full on visible as he aggressively slammed his hands on the table.
She stood there looking at him shocked. Tears pricking through her eyes. What was this mess?
His eyes softened as looked her scared figure. “I- I didn’t mean too,”
“Save it Chan.” She sobbed. Her hand was fiddling with her promise ring that Chan has gifted her on their 2 year anniversary. It was the most beautiful ring that she has laid her eyes on but as time went on she realized it was just a ring it was a stress reliever because anytime she was sad, frustrated, mad or confused she would play with the ring on her finger.
“Why can’t you see the things you keep doing hurt me Chan?” She sobbed and looked up at him. Praying that somehow she can find answers.
“I-“ he took a deep breathe trying to keep his own tears in, “I’m failing okay? Can you just leave me alone? Please?” He took a shaky breath before taking a step back and grabbing his jacket.
“Am I a burden now?” Her chest tightened. Chan couldn’t look at her. He had no courage, no strength.
“I’m going upstairs,” he simply said and walked past her.
She wanted to stop him, beg him to hold her, beg him to be there for her but the pain in her chest told her otherwise. She looked so silly, like a kicked puppy.
She wiped her tears and walked over to grab her shoes before leaving her house totally forgetting her phone and keys.
**
It was dark and cold. The sun had officially set and people were either out having dinner or rushing home from work.
Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad as she watched the couples sitting outside restaurants talking and laughing.
She felt empty, she felt deceived. Chan was the perfect boyfriend. He made sure of it but when they started becoming a hit he started slowly pushing her to the side leaving her at home and going out to drink and party or he would be locked up in the studio trying to make new songs.
She was lost without him. She had created her whole routine off of him and now she would wakeup every morning feelings lost not knowing what to do.
Her mind was runnning so fast that she couldn’t keep up. The tears in her eyes were were blurring her vision as she took quick steps to the park.
It wasn’t far. That was always her safe space. Everytime she would get overwhelmed or exhausted she would run away and hide behind the big old oak tree down by the river next to the park.
It was a little foggy, she couldn’t see anything but Chan’s loud voice kept playing in her head until she heard a loud screech. She looked to the side but it was too late. A painful scream left her body as she watched the car crash into her body.
She didn’t feel pain all she could hear was a ringing sound then a few sirens before everything went quiet.
**
“199 what is your emergency?”
“I-I crashed into someone, help! Please! I don’t know what to do-“
“Okay sir is she breathing? I need you to calm down and tell me what happened,”
“Y-yes she’s still breathing, I- I was driving and she just stepped infront of the car, I don’t know! It wasn’t my fault,” he sobbed as panic was filling his chest.
He looked down at the frail body, blood was everywhere and yet he still didn’t pass out. He tried to put pressure on the area that was bleeding the most but it wasn’t working. Blood was still gushing out of her.
She looked familiar tho, he thought.
“Sir, I’ve sent an ambulance. I just need you to keep breathing and tell me if she stops breathing. Keep your hand on the wound,” the dispatcher kept telling him over and over again.
“Oh God this is a lot of blood. Please God, please don’t let her die,” he whispered as he looked up at the car that was parked by them.
It felt like hours until he felt like who could breathe. He heard the sirens. They were here. The paramedics were finally here.
**
“C’mon Y/n please pick up,” Chan cursed at himself as he walked back and forth in the living room.
He was now in sweatpants and a hoodie. His hair wet from the shower.
When he had come downstairs he saw no sight of Y/n and at first he thought that maybe she had gone for a breather so he decided to do some work knowing that she wouldn’t pick up his phone even if he had tried to call so he just chose to distract himself.
He felt guilty for the fight they had. It was chewing him alive but he knew it was his fault and he needed to make it up. As time kept passing by; 30 minutes turned into 2 hours.
He started to feel uneasy so he decided to try her phone but she wasn’t picking. He called all the boys at the dorm asking if she was with them but they said they hadn’t seen her then he called her bestfriend and she too hadn’t seen her. That’s when the panic started to set in.
He called her phone over and over again while making sure to text her too. He rushed upstairs to grab his crocs and that’s when he saw her phone on the night stand table.
“Shit, Y/n,” he groaned and rubbed his eyes before grabbing his car keys.
He put on his crocs and rundown the stairs and that’s when he got a call from his manager.
“What is it Soon-hoo, I can’t really-“
“Chan we need to get to the hospital now,” he said in a panic. Chan’s blood went cold as he could hear shuffling in the background.
“W-what is it? What happened?!” He managed to say.
“It’s Y/n Chan,” Chan’s senses came to a hold. Everyhting around him felt like it was moving in slow motion, “she got run over Chan, I’m coming to pick you up,” their manager said as he started the car.
All Chan could hear was a ringing sound as he stared at the blank floor. Tears running down his cheeks as his heart was beating faster.
______
Don’t forget to reblog😋
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yourimagines · 5 months
Text
Believing in you
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* English is not my first language I apologise
* Triggers: bullying, online hate, swearing and fluff
Summary: Y/N is Lando’s girlfriend, she’s been there for him since the F2 and believes in him, even when it looks like he’s never going to achieve the things he really wants, becoming a race winner in the formula one.
Lando POV
It was an amazing feeling to win my first race in formula one. Everyone was cheering and chanting my name. “Lando, congratulations on your first win. How do you feel.” One of the reporters asks me as I walked back to my car. “It feels good, I don’t have words for it to be honest. I just want to smile.” I flashed them a smile and got in my car. “First stop the hotel, then the after party.” I said to myself as I drove away from the circuit. My mind wandered off to my girlfriend y/n, who was back in Monaco. “She’s probably screaming.” I smiled about that thought, her in my hoodie, screaming at the tv in happiness. Maybe a few tears involving as well. ‘She’s been here since the beginning….’
Flashback to 2018
“Come on Lando, just be positive about it. Maybe they want you to be their next driver, you’re already their reserve driver.” I just had a talk with McLaren about me being their reserve driver and test driver. They didn’t said anything about me actually driving for them, only about testing the car and being available during the race weekends. “They probably want George, just like Mercedes…” I sighed and sat down defeated. “Lan…I know it seems like the whole world is against you but I promise it’s not the case. Just don’t bring yourself down.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and sweetly gave me a peck on my lips. “I believe in you Norris.”
End of the flashback
I stopped the car in front of the hotel and got out, people were screaming at me and singing that song about me. “Thank you guys.” I waved at them and went inside. I quickly went to my room and sat down on my bed and took a look at my phone. She had texted me about how proud she was of me and that she knew today would be that day. ‘God….she’s perfect.’ I quickly send her a text message back and sent her the same picture I sent to my parents, me smiling happily at my phone while holding the trophy.
Flashback to 2019
I was nervous for my first race for McLaren. My girlfriend y/n was here to support me and so were my parents. “I believe in you Norris.” She says as she placed a soft kiss on my cheek. “Don’t get your hopes up, I’m never this good as my teammate Carlos.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Stop talking like this…it’s your first race of course you probably won’t defeat him but that doesn’t mean you are a bad driver Lando.” She gently brushed my shoulders before letting me go to the race track. “I’m always supporting you, no matter what.”
End of the flashback
The team picked me up from the hotel and went to one of the most popular clubs in Miami. “It’s going to be a hell of a party, I heard max is also coming.” I nodded and looked outside the car window, seeing the buildings passing us by. “Maybe Pierre as well…” they were talking about everything, the clubs, the drivers. I can’t blame them, they are just excited about my win.
Flashback to 2020
“You’re going to be on the podium today, I just know it.” She says through the phone. “I don’t know, maybe I crash and die…” I joked but she didn’t find it funny at all. “Lando! Don’t say that…it’s not funny.” She was a bit upset about the little joke I just made. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” She only shook her head at me. “You’re on the podium today Norris, don’t be an asshole to me, you know I miss you right now.” She looked a bit sad at the camera. “I know you are, I miss you too.”
End of the flashback
I did get on the podium that weekend, my maiden third place. I was over the moon with that one but of course I wanted more. “You want an other one?” A young girl asked me as she raised her empty cup. “No thanks.” I said politely as I didn’t want her to think I’m available. “You sure? It’s free.” She gave me a wink and a broad smile. “Yeah I’m sure.” Before something weird could happen, max showed up with two drinks in his hands. “One for you.” He handed me a drink and smiled at the girl. “You okay?” She nods and disappears. “Weird, what did she want from you?” “Everything, I guess.” I joked as I took a sip from my drink. Max laughed and patted my shoulder. “Ladies man.”
Flashback to 2021
Rumours were spreading around the paddock that I was cheating on y/n with some other girl. Of course it’s not true but it did made a scar in our relationship. All the hate to me on the internet, being a shitty driver and a cheater. “I believe in you Norris, I trust you.” She says as she was helping me to pack my bags. “I know, it’s just frustrating that others see me differently.” I sighed and rubbed my face. “I’m not a cheater, you know her she’s a friend of max.” I shook my head and sat down, feeling worthless. “Hey, I know you didn’t cheat on me.” She sat down next to me, laying her hand on mine. “We’ll get through this, I love you Lando even with those shitty rumours.” I looked up at her and tried to smile at her. “I know.” I whispered as my voice faded. “Come here.” She opened her arms for me to hug her. “You’re not alone in this Lan.”
End of the flashback
It was very late when I arrived at the airport, Zak and the rest were there as well. Ready to board the plane. “I’m so dead.” I said as I sat down in my chair. “Me too buddy.” Zak said as he sat down in front of me. “What are your plans back in London? Visiting some family or friends?” I nodded tiredly as I checked the time. “Yeah, my parents first, maybe some friends.” He nods and gives me a pat on my shoulder. “You doing fine Lando, we’re all happy to have you in our team.” I smiled tiredly and looked outside the window. “Yeah…I’m happy too.”
Flashback to 2022
“Let’s move in together.” I said to her as we were building some legos together on my apartment floor. “Your serious?” She looked surprised at me as I just asked her to move in with me. “Yeah, why not?” I shrugged and went further with our build. “Omg you’re actually serious.” She throws her arms around my neck and pushes us down on the ground. “Love, of course I’m serious. You basically live here already.” My arms snaked around her body as she started to give me a few kisses. “I’m so excited to live with you, I need a job here and learn some more French.” She was rambling about everything, when she should move to Monaco and how to plan her days. “You’re going to be fine, you don’t need a job. You’re dating this muppet remember.” She giggles and shook her head. “I can’t do that, but thank you for your offer.”
End of the flashback
I landed in London and went immediately to my parents house, feeling happy but also drained by all the attention and stress. “Hello honey! I’m so proud of you.” My mom said as she greeted me with a hug. “Hi mom, thank you.” She guided me inside their house and saw my dad and my siblings waiting for me. “Hey guys.” “Congratulations son.” My dad immediately pulled me into his embrace. “Thanks dad.”
Flashback to 2023
She was there as I stood on the podium again, she was smiling happily at me. I was feeling proud to make her that happy and she made me happy too. “I’m so proud of you Lan.” She hugged me as soon she got the chance. “Thank you my love.” She placed a kiss on my cheek and smiled happily at me. “I knew you would be on the podium today.” It always feels bittersweet, being on the podium but not as the race winner. “Yeah, I’m still Lando Nowins.” She stopped smiling and slightly slapped my chest. “No, don’t listen to that crap. They are haters Lando, there are enough people like me that are supporting you.” I shrugged and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “Whatever, let’s just go back to the hotel and celebrate.”
End of the flashback
I was a few days in London before I traveled back to Monaco, back to my girl who was waiting for me. I opened the door and before I could step one foot inside she flew into my arms. “Lan!” I almost fell as I catches her, holding her tightly. “I’m so proud of you, I knew it.” She buried her face in my neck and I carried her back inside, closing the door behind me with my foot. “I know, I knew it too baby.” She had tears in her eyes, looking so proud at me. “No more Lando Nowins.” She said with a giggle and I joined her. “You know that makes me even more proud, proving them wrong.” She nods and kisses me. “You were never Lando Nowins to me.” I smiled at her and sat her down on our kitchen counter. “I know, I’m your muppet.” She laughs and nods. “I freaking love you.” I said to her as she looked so beautiful to me, that proud feeling was there again. “I love you too Lan.”
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mattyriddlesbitch · 5 months
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Hiiiii! So, I'm Arab and I was wondering is you could do a y/n x Mattheo riddle(cuz y/n is so badass) where they're fighting about the girls that go to Mattheo. y/n goes into Arabic and mattheo goes hard and then. . . you can determine what you want to do with it. BTW I LOVE UUUUU
ps can u make them in a secret relationship?
I LOVE UUUUU TOO AAAA THANK YOU! Sorry this took so long!
All Yours
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: Oral(female receiving), fingering, unprotected sec, cream pie, cussing.
18+ Minors DNI!
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There he was again. Your secret boyfriend. Mattheo Riddle. Surrounded by girls at one of the Slytherin parties. There were quite a few reasons to keep your relationship secret. His father. Your parents. His friends. Even your friends. He didn’t want you to be used against him as a weakness either.
Whatever the reasons, you were still fuming about how he spoke with the girls. Granted, he never did touch them or reciprocate their flirtations. But he didn’t push them away either or reject them outright.
He spotted you across the room, locking eyes with you and giving you his wicked smile that normally made you melt. When he got met with your crossed arms and eye roll, he knew you were mad and the smile dropped.
He was able to get away from the girls, redirecting them to his friends before he slipped away. He was pulling you away from everyone, skirting around the party to avoid anyone’s attention as he pulled you up to his dorm.
He closed the door behind you two before speaking. “Alright. What’s wrong, sweet girl?”
“Don’t call me that.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest again.
He sighed. “Fine. What’s wrong?”
You weren’t sure what to say, trying to figure out how to phrase it. You weren’t exactly prepared for this confrontation.
“Is it the girls?” He asked, stepping closer.
“Of course it is!” You nearly yelled. How can he be so stupid?
“Come on, princess. You know I can’t do anything about it.” He tried speaking softly as he touched your arm.
All that did though was piss you off even more. You pulled your arm from him and started yelling. “Yes, you can! You can tell them to back off! You can tell them you’re not interested!”
“I can’t do that. It’ll be suspicious. I don’t want people catching on that I have a girlfriend.” He said, keeping his voice calm.
You knew what he meant. He meant he didn’t want people to find out so they can use you against him or harm you. But you were mad, so of course the words were falling from your mouth faster than you were even thinking. “Oh, it’s so bad to have a girlfriend now? I’m that embarrassing to you?”
“No-” He tried interjecting, but you cut him off.
You were slipping into Arabic without even realizing it. You were just yelling and he was staring at you, stunned. It was the first time he’d heard you speak Arabic, let alone yelling it.
You stopped yelling after a few moments, looking at him to respond. “What?”
“That was so hot.” He said and his mouth was on yours.
The anger that you had was turning into desire for him as you guided you two towards the bed, lips pressed together still as you took off what clothes you could without breaking the kiss. He pushed you back onto the bed once you reached it and helped you out of your clothes, wasting no time to sink between your thighs and start licking and sucking like a starved man.
“Keep going. Talk to me.” He said, pushing two fingers inside you.
It took you a moment to start talking, rambling something about how good it feels and whatever else came to mind. It’s not like he knew what you were saying anyways.
“Fucking hot.” He groaned before licking at your clit again.
You kept your rambling, only breaking with moans and whimpers. His name falling from your mouth every few sentences as he was desperately trying to make you fall apart on his tongue and fingers.
“That’s fucking it. You gonna cum, princess? I wanna see you cum on my fingers. Look so pretty screaming my name.” He said, staring up at you between your legs.
You couldn’t deny him what he was craving, nearly begging for. You were falling apart for him only moments later, tugging his hair, trembling, crying out his name.
He flipped you over after riding out your orgasm, gripping your hips to pull back towards him. He slowly eased the head of his dick in, groaning as you moaned.
“You’re fucking hot when you’re mad.” He said with a slight struggle as he kept pushing inside you.
“My yelling turns you on?” You asked, gripping at the sheets.
“More than it should, probably.” He started thrusting, no longer being gentle, he gripped your hips with bruising force and fucking you fast and deep. “You can keep going if you’d like. Or would you rather scream my name?” He asked, leaning over to grab your hair, lifting your head from the bed.
“Fuck, Mattheo! I-fuck!” You cried out, finding it difficult to think with his cock hitting so deep inside you.
“Guess that’s my answer, huh?” He teased.
“Shut up!” You tried for an irritated tone, but it was hardly even halfhearted.
“Oh, but you love when I talk to you like this. Can feel how wet you get, love.” He leaned down so his chest was pressing against your back. 
He was fucking into you so deep, he moved his hand from your hair to rub at your clit, making you whimper from how sensitive it was.
“Maybe you just needed to be reminded that I’m all yours in another way to get rid of that anger, hm?” He mused, pressing kisses along your upper back. “Fucking clenching me, princess, you gonna cum again already?”
All you could do was nod in response, your voice occupied with moaning and crying out with his thrusts.
“That’s it. Be a good girl then and cum for me.” He said softly. “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”
And you were trembling again, crying out his name and you gripped at the sheets.
He cursed as he came from the feeling of your pussy trying to milk him, filling you with his cum.
“I’m all yours, sweet girl. You’re all mine, too.” He said reassuringly as he pressed kisses where he could reach as your body relaxed.
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marvelstoriesepic · 13 days
Text
Two
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Pairing: College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader
Summary: Your friends Wanda and Nat drag you to a corn maze event at night. After a rather unpleasant encounter with Bucky, Sam, and Steve, you want nothing but this night to end. Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to find the exit first.
Word count: 6.2k
Warnings: Annoyance to lovers; scared!Reader; scare actor with chainsaw; scarecrows; protective!Bucky; little bit of sad!Bucky
Author’s note: This is me ignoring my wips and writing something that randomly popped up in my head. Wrote this all in one sitting but I’m actually genuinely happy with it :)
Masterlist
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“We’re going to get lost in there.”
“With your sense of direction, definitely, but thankfully you have me.”
You shove Nat in the shoulder lightly enough, grumbling under your breath, while Wanda on your other side snickers softly.
The brunette links her arm with yours. “We’ll stay together the whole time,” she assures you.
“Well, I left my bed for this, so this better be good!”
Natasha and Wanda insisted on visiting the corn maze event your town had to offer this year. And since they claimed it would be boring to do this in daylight you now are standing in front of towering stalks of corn being so close together, they obscure the view inside. Sure, it would be way too easy otherwise but, the easier this is, the faster you’d be getting out of here.
There is a clear cut through the corn, signaling the entrance to the maze, but you can’t see past the artificial fog swirling in the tunnel so that’s no help either. The branches over the entrance have cobwebs dangling down and a scarecrow is placed right beside the hole, its eyes glowing red with unnatural light.
A few dimly lit jack-o-lanterns path the way to the foggy entrance, giving only enough light to make sure you wouldn’t catch on uneven ground and fall before anything even started. That would surely be embarrassing enough for the night.
You can make out faint whispers coming from inside the maze, unsure if those come from other visitors or if they are simply sound effects. Either way, you don’t like it. It’s not like you get scared easily. But there’s something about the dark that had always irked you and you don’t feel like getting jumped by some scare actor tonight or some other shit.
There are a few other people standing in groups around you three, talking to staff members, or looking at the map of the maze to somewhat prepare. You don’t pay them any mind though. There is no way you’d be socializing tonight.
“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Nat exclaims beside you.
“I don’t see this being a party,” you mutter, “and shouldn’t we get a map as well? Might be helpful, you know?” The dry sarcasm in your voice gives way to the enthusiasm you are absolutely lacking.
“We don’t need a map. Come on!” Is all she says as she pulls you and Wanda to the entrance.
“Alright well, just so you know, I'm blaming it on you when we’re still aimlessly wandering around in there by dawn,” you warn, but there’s clearly amusement in your tone you can’t suppress and you share a quick laugh with Wanda.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
It takes you three a little more than fifteen minutes to find the first checkpoint. You’re not sure if this is good or bad timing but at least you haven’t lost anyone of your small group yet so that is good.
The small flashlights you had been given earlier by an instructor cast narrow beams through the dense, twisted rows of the maze. Now, each light lands on the scarecrow ahead, its ragged form standing as still as the one you passed at the entrance. He only has one arm outstretched, clearly pointing in the direction you’ll find the next checkpoint.
“This way,” Natasha calls out, already turning to follow the path being pointed at. Her black leather jacket catches the glow of your flashlight as you walk behind her, Wanda beside you.
You hear a set of screams echoing faintly through the maze, the fifth one since you entered - an indication that in the distance, other visitors just got ambushed by scare actors in the dark. You have no intention of being next so you’re thankful for Nat taking the lead.
However, your gaze constantly darts behind you, checking your back every few minutes, convinced that at any moment something - or rather someone - might leap out of the shadows. You quickly assess and flash the path you had walked seconds earlier, before turning around again, paranoia creeping in with every step.
Distracted, you almost miss the tombstone jutting from the path ahead of you. Your heart skips a beat as your foot catches the edge, but before your face can meet the ground, Wanda’s hand shoots out. She firmly latches onto your jacket sleeve, pulling you back and steadying you, an amused laugh slipping past her lips.
“Thanks, Wan,” you laugh, a little out of breath.
“Getting lost already, ladies?”
You shriek, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest, and Wanda yelps in unison. You bump into her side, both of you spinning around hastily toward the source of the voice. Even Nat flinched, but she seems to recover quickly, letting out a low chuckle as she eyes the three figures standing before you.
You could practically hear the sultry smile she’s undoubtedly wearing behind you as she questions them. “What are you guys doing here?”
Yeah, what are they doing here? You narrow your eyes at the man who made you leap out of your skin.
Bucky Barnes. Of course.
In the middle of a creepy maze, with scare actors hiding around almost every corner, he somehow managed to sneak up on you. Typical. You shouldn’t be surprised he found you in a fucking labyrinth.
“Thought we’d check out the fancy attraction everyone’s been yapping about.” It’s Sam who answers, his words laced with a teasing grin as he stands slightly behind Bucky with his arms crossed over his chest, clearly entertained.
But Bucky didn’t even acknowledge Nat’s question. His focus remains on you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and that glint in his eyes you know so well. He’s evidently pleased with himself for catching you off guard. Fantastic.
Steve, who comes into focus on Sam’s other side, offers you girls a sympathetic smile. There is an apology written in the way he tilts his head. “We didn’t know you were planning on coming, or else we would’ve asked you to join us,” he says, voice sincere.
Before you can respond, Bucky cuts in, stepping forward with that infuriatingly confident swagger. He throws a lazy arm over your shoulder, pulling your stiff form against his side. “Ah well, we’re together now, so let’s stay that way. We’ll get you through this maze well-protected, girls.”
His voice carries that signature smugness as if he’s doing you some grand favor and you should be grateful. You’re not. Definitely, absolutely not.
You immediately shake off his arm, stepping away from him with a sharp glare. “Yeah, no thanks. We’ll manage on our own,” you argue.
Bucky raises an eyebrow, noticeably unfazed. His smirk deepens as he leans in, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Surely that scream said something different, doll. Don’t you think?”
You scowl. “Oh, shut up, Barnes-”
Steve interrupts you with his hands held up, palms open in a calming gesture. “Let’s not make this difficult. We’ll go our own way if that’s what you want.”
“Stay,” Nat drawls, standing relaxed with her arms crossed and shooting you a teasing glance. “It’s funnier that way.”
You cut her a look that should have been able to kill her. The corners of her mouth only curl higher as she turns back towards the path ahead of you.
You see Bucky’s grin from the corner of your eyes.
You all resumed walking, six flashlights cutting through the eerie darkness around you, their beams illuminating the narrow, winding path ahead. Despite your reluctance to admit it, having the guys with you provided some sort of ease. Your shoulders droop slightly and your gait becomes more confident.
More often than not you feel the hot gaze of Bucky on your skin but choose to ignore it, focusing on the path ahead so as not to stumble over another tombstone.
“So, have you guys started preparing for-” Steve’s voice breaks through the silence but gets immediately cut off by Sam.
“Hell no, no talking about classes, or practice for that matter. That ain’t on my agenda tonight,” Sam scolds rather loudly, his voice filled with mock severity. Nat snorts, still walking ahead of you, and you join in, a small laugh escaping as Steve sighs.
The moment was brief, though, as you round another corner and Nat calls out what lay before you. “Dead end,” she declares, her tone flat but unsurprised. “Turn around.”
Grumbling softly, your group pivots and you retrace your steps to take a different turn, only to find another winding corridor shortly later. This goes on for minutes - Natasha calling out dead ends and your group backtracking to find another path offering no more than the last. The guys didn’t take a map with them as well.
You don’t fail to notice the constant presence of Bucky at your back. Each time you turn a corner he seems just a little closer, the warmth of his proximity soothing the nerves in your veins and helping with the chilling air that comes with the night. You ignore that, though.
However, you can’t ignore the fact that you did not once turn around to check your back since he and the others expanded your little group and Bucky took his place at your back. It’s strange. All the paranoia and unease from earlier had softened somehow, as if his irritating confidence bled into you, making the maze feel a little less menacing, the darkness a little less suffocating.
You feel almost reassured by the steady weight of his attention at your back like his silent presence can ward off any sense of danger.
You’re not sure how to feel about that.
Suddenly, loud menacing laughter erupts from the thick corn wall beside you. The sound is dark and jarring, cutting through the air and sending a bolt of fear through your chest. You startle with a gasp, instinctively reaching for Wanda beside you as you jump away from the bushes, your hand clutching onto her arm.
Your heart pounds violently, the adrenaline making your breath quicken. You’re too lost in the moment to notice the steady hand that has settled on your back - Bucky’s hand.
Without a word, he keeps his palm firmly pressed against the fabric of your jacket as his other hand shoots into the corn wall. You barely register his swift movement until you see him yanking out a small device - a microphone hidden in the stalks, playing that sinister laughter on repeat. With a click, the sound stops.
“Just an audio, doll, everything’s alright,” Bucky explains, his voice low and calm, the teasing edge from earlier absent.
Your breathing slows and you let go of the death grip you had on Wanda’s arm, not registering how tightly you held onto her.
Bucky’s presence remains solid and you glance at him quickly, expecting to find his usual smug grin or some sarcastic remark waiting, hoping you don’t look as embarrassed as you feel.
But there’s none of that. Instead, his expression seems almost grim as he eyes the microphone in his hand, a hint of disgust crossing his face, lips twitching. Without much care, he tosses the device back into the corn, not bothering to see where it lands.
His other hand still lay pressed against your back and you let it ground you for a fleeting second.
However, the shock transforms rather rapidly into confusion. Shouldn’t he be delighted it went on right as you passed it? Usually, he would revel in something like this, tease you for your reaction, and flash you that infuriating smirk.
He doesn’t.
You keep walking for another few minutes, the tension slowly easing back into a manageable rhythm, when Sam barks out. “There! Second checkpoint! Y’all that’s on me!”
He moves past Wanda, stopping in front of a small carton laid out on a makeshift table. Scattered across the surface were pieces of a puzzle, all with seemingly random lines on them. Four small wooden stools sat nearby, clearly set up for people to take a seat while working on the puzzle.
“A puzzle?” Bucky asks incredulously, coming to a halt with a frown, his hands on his hips.
“I think it’s cute,” Wanda offers with a smile, moving to one of the stools and lowering herself down. She picks up a piece, studying it as she begins sorting through the chaos. You agree, following her lead and settling on a stool beside her.
“You too cool for a puzzle, Barnes? Or are you scared you won’t be able to solve it?” you mock half-heartedly, your eyes already skimming over the pieces, trying to find where they fit together.
Bucky scoffs, his teasing tone returning full force. “Joke’s on you, sweetheart. I’m an excellent puzzle solver. Always did this with Bec’s when she was small.”
His voice was lighter now and you feel yourself relax a little more at the returning banter settling between you.
Though you find yourself thinking about the small comment about his sister you keep stuck on and curiosity rises in you at the little insight in his former private life. You shouldn’t find this as interesting as you did. And you shouldn’t want to know more.
Bucky lowers himself into a crouch beside you since the two other wooden stools sit beside Wanda. Nat and Steve sit down on those with mild amusement, all eyes on the puzzle pieces.
Bucky stays rather close to your side, his thigh brushing against your own as he reaches over the small makeshift table.
Sam hovers over Wanda’s shoulder, offering commentary and the glow of his flashlight as she arranges the border pieces with surprising efficiency.
“It’s an arrow,” you quip, placing a few more pieces together with a minor sense of accomplishment.
“Oh yeah? How’d you figure that out?” Bucky smirks beside you, playful as ever as he gives you a gentle shove to your shoulder with his own.
Annoyance creeps back in and you roll your eyes. “Cut it, Barnes. What you’re doing over there isn’t helpful either,” you snap, shoving him more forcefully in return. He sways slightly on the balls of his feet, letting out a low chuckle that only grates on your nerves more.
For what feels like the hundredth time, you slap his hand away from the pieces you’ve already fit together. Bucky stopped sticking his own pieces together and rather enjoys reaching over and intentionally placing the wrong pieces onto yours, or worse, rearranging what you’d already solved, eyes twinkling with mischief and the corners of his mouth tugged high up his cheeks. Each time you fix it, he finds another way to mess it up.
You refuse to look at his blinding grin.
You huff instead, slapping his other hand away as it winds around your arms trying to sneak another mismatched piece into your section.
You're also too occupied to notice the knowing glances shared across the table.
“Alright, alright, let’s get this done so we can keep moving. I’m trying to make it outta here in one piece, people,” Sam jokes with a lightness in his voice that suggests he’s enjoying this rather thoroughly.
You finished the puzzle quickly, the final piece snapping into place, and you had to hold back Bucky’s hands, refraining him from spinning the whole thing to make the arrow point in the wrong direction.
A few minutes into the walk and a few dead ends later, Wanda breaks the comfortable silence. “When’s your next game again, guys?” she asks softly.
Sam let out a groan of exasperation, throwing his arms out dramatically, almost hitting Nat. “Oh come on! What’d I say about that, huh?”
He’d been walking at the front since he claimed his spot as the lead after 'earning' it by finding the checkpoint. He turns around as he talks, facing Wanda with a playful glare.
“You said no talking about class or practice. So, I can ask about games,” she counters with a smile.
From behind you, Steve’s laugh rumbles through the group. “She got you there, pal.”
Sam shakes his head, turning ahead again, muttering. “Yeah, yeah. Game’s next Saturday.”Though his annoyance is half-hearted at best.
Then, from beside you, Bucky’s voice breaks through, casual but directed. “You’re coming, right?”His tone is laid back with an underlying expectation. The question seems to be aimed at the group but he was looking at you.
Bucky had stepped up to walk beside you after you resumed walking, his pace matching yours and you see the way his head is tilted in your direction.
You glance up at him, blue eyes watching you. He obviously waits for an answer.
“Don’t know. Maybe I have to work then.” You shrug, playing it off, and look back forward again. But you’re surprised at the way your pulse quickens under his gaze and your hand squeezes the flashlight a little tighter.
You don’t always put a whole lot of effort into being there for their games. Sure, you showed up every now and then, but not nearly as often as everyone else. It wasn’t for lack of support. More like self-preservation.
Watching Bucky stride onto the field with that cocky confidence, owning every inch of the space around him, irks you incredibly. He’s good, and he knows it - he owns it.
Unfortunately for you though, sometimes you couldn’t shove down your annoyance for the guy enough and he, unbeknownst to himself, found a way of making your stomach flip in ways you weren’t entirely proud of.
Also, that football gear - You hate the way your body reacts upon seeing him in it as if it were the first time. The fitted jersey, the helmet tucked under his arm, the way his shoulders look even broader in the pads, the brown tendrils of his fluffy and tousled hair falling over his forehead - it all makes your stomach flutter every time and it drives you crazy.
So you found ways to avoid it. You picked up extra shifts at the library, checked the game schedule weeks in advance to make sure you had a built-in excuse. You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, just something casual you were doing to avoid unnecessary distractions. But deep down, you knew better.
And so does Natasha - if her smirk in your direction is anything to go by. You glare at her to move her attention, but it’s useless.
You’re unprepared for the following corner of the maze, lingering in the echo of your thoughts. So when the scare actor does his job, emerging from the shadows and brandishing a chainsaw that roars to life in a terrifying symphony, your soul might have just kissed you goodbye.
The flickering light from the chainsaw illuminates his grimy, masked face, a wicked smile etched across his features, and eyes glimmering with twisted mischief.
You scream - just like Wanda, just like Sam. Nat lets out a quick yelp herself and you hear the sharp intake of a breath behind you from Steve. Bucky, who had seemingly been lost in his own thoughts, flinches beside you. In a swift motion, he surges closer, grabbing your arm harsher than probably intended and pulling you to his side. His leg instinctively positions his body in front of you.
The outfit of the actor - or that’s what you try to tell yourself he is - is a patchwork of tattered flannel and soiled jeans, the perfect embodiment of a deranged lumberjack. Raised high, the chainsaw vibrates with a menacing growl, its teeth gleaming wickedly as the man brandishes it like a weapon, the scent of gasoline mingling with the earthiness of the maze.
You clutch Bucky's arm, fingers digging into the firm muscle of his biceps as he stands protectively before you, his stance rigid and shoulders tense. Your other hand is linked with his, shaking fingers surrounded by steady ones. Though his stance is stiff and tense.
Time seems to freeze as Nat, Wanda, and Sam stand still in front of you, Steve’s presence at your back.
Your heart races violently in your chest, suffocating you, and for a moment, it feels like your breath stopped altogether as the chainsaw-wielding man lunges toward you six.
All you are able to do in your state of panic is squeeze Bucky’s hand so tightly you might have feared his blood circulation cut off, if your mind were able to conjure up a thought at the moment.
Bucky reacts instantly. Without hesitation, he pivots and bolts down the maze, pulling you along. His fingers clutch yours with such fierce intensity as if his only fear is losing you in this chaos.
Steve surges ahead, taking a sharp turn right while Bucky guides you left, then right, and left again; maneuvering the maze like a seasoned racer. The world around you blurs as you focus solely on keeping up, your heart racing along with your feet. All sense of direction is lost in the chaos and you can’t tell if Nat, Sam, and Wanda are still trailing behind or if they’re swallowed by the cornrows.
You try to take a glance back, hoping to catch a glimpse of red hair, dark brown skin, or Wanda’s long coat.
“Don’t look back!” Bucky shouts over the roar of the chainsaw, his voice snapping your head to the front before you can see anything else besides the blur of yellow-green walls. “Switch off your flashlight!”
You do as you’re told.
You could have had a relaxed evening, maybe taking a bath or watching a show with warm tea and popcorn but no, instead you find yourself chased by a man with a real fucking chainsaw.
Panic surges through you again, your breaths getting shorter at Bucky's fast pace and you feel his hand tighten. There’s an unexpected strength in the way he holds you, his muscles coiling with determination. He navigates the twists and turns with instinctive agility, intense eyes moving over to you every few seconds as if the only important thing here is you.
And somehow that is oddly reassuring and maybe a bit satisfying at the moment. All that mattered is Bucky’s strong grip, anchoring you as you run alongside him.
Around another corner, the path opens up to a small clearing that offers a momentary respite. Bucky pulls you into the safety of the space, pressing your back against the rough stalks of corn, their leaves brushing against your skin. You stand chest to chest, touching each other with every ragged breath you take in.
Bucky still seems composed despite all the running you just did.
He faces the direction you had come from, muscles coiled and ready to react, arms on either side of you, practically hugging you to his chest.
“We lost the others,” you pant, glancing around as best as you could with a mountain of muscle blocking your view.
Bucky’s face is a mask of focus, his eyes scanning the maze. “Yeah. Just stay with me,” he murmurs, lowering his voice, his breath fanning over your cheeks.
He takes another few seconds to assess the surroundings, before looking down at you. “Are you alright?” he asks softly, yet urgently.
You had never been this close to Bucky before, had never imagined such a scenario, and it leaves you unprepared for the overwhelming feelings that flood your senses.
The moonlight cast a slightly silver glow over his features but some remain hidden in shadows. His eyes search yours and you find yourself caught in the depths of his irises, a captivating swirl of blue that makes it hard to look away. His lips are parted slightly, soft breaths brushing against your cheeks and your nose fills with a scent that is something distinctly him. It doesn’t help with finding your voice. The slight furrow in his brow suggests worry as he scans your features.
You nod, still breathless from the scare and his proximity.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you manage to reply, though just then, a chilling laughter echoes from around you. The sound of the chainsaw roars back to life, slicing through the stillness.
You flinch in Bucky’s hold, instinctively moving closer and burrowing half in his chest. “Fucking asshole,”you breathe out a laugh and Bucky tightens his arms momentarily around you with a low chuckle. He seems to relax a little.
“We’ll have to keep moving,” he states, a slight trace of amusement in his tone as he looks back at you. He lifts his hand for a second as if longing to tuck the loose strands of hair behind your ears that landed in your face after the frantic escape.
You ignore the sliver of disappointment as he takes his hand back and moves away slightly, letting the chill night air brush against your skin instead of his warm breath. You feel cold, despite the adrenaline pumping in your veins.
The laughing grows louder and Bucky links his hand with yours again. “You ready?” he asks, waiting for your nod before starting to run again, darting through the maze some more.
You have no idea how long it takes before you come to another stop but your chest heaves with exhaustion as you do, ragged breaths leaving your lips. Bucky stands composed with narrowed eyes, looking around the maze.
The silence between you is perhaps a little uncomfortable, the only sound being the heavy breathing of your own labored lungs.
“Well, shit,” you utter after regaining some semblance of balance. “How do we find the others? I have no idea where we are.”
Bucky’s eyes meet yours, his expression unreadable for a moment. He licks his lips, then shrugs nonchalantly. “Looks like it's just the two of us.”
Your incredulous gaze sweeps over his face. “Seriously?” you ask, coming out sharper than intended.
Bucky rubs his hand over his face, looking away from you. “I’m sure they’re fine. Not like anything ever happens in these things. Sam probably already made a bet that he makes it to the exit before we do. So we should just…try and beat 'em.”
You know he tries to seem like this doesn’t affect him at all but there is something about him that makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. He looks a little defeated, perhaps even…hurt. And you don’t quite understand why.
Bucky’s eyes crinkle at the corners slightly as he tries for a smile but it looks wry. “Come on, doll! We’re a great team,” he insists.
You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, I don’t know about that, Barnes.”
Pain shoots through your chest. Not unfamiliar but not known around Bucky. His faltered expression stings and you don’t know what to do besides watching him drop his eyes to his feet and sigh heavily.
The sound feels like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless once again but without running from a man with a chainsaw.
His hands move over his hair. “It’s still Bucky for you doll. Told you many times,” he says softly, voice heavy with a mixture of dejection and desperation. “And we don’t really have a choice now, do we? We don’t know where the others are and it might take hours to find them. Just looking for the exit of this thing would be easier. Bet the others are doing the same.”
He looks at you then, with a troubled expression, seeming so vulnerable all of a sudden, traces of the cocky football player lost somewhere in this maze.
You nod then, slowly, not able to bring a word out because you have no clue as to what has him this sad.
“Alright,” he continues, nodding to himself. “I think we might have run past the third checkpoint. Let’s find the last one.”
The silence between Bucky and you stretches out like a fragile thread, the tension building with each passing moment. You can feel him glancing at you every few paces and you look over at him every once in a while but nobody says anything.
You don’t even talk when reaching another dead end, just turning around and resuming to walk.
He seems to let you lead, though, taking the turns you do.
You let your gaze sweep over the maze’s twists and turns until something catches your eye. A small, narrow wooden post stands almost camouflaged among the corn stalks, and your pace quickens.
“Over there! Look!”
It feels weird to break the silence between you but you don’t look over at Bucky as you approach the post and hear him fall into step behind you.
It’s adorned with two wooden flags, both having slightly faded letters atop. You read the first one, a small riddle as it seems.
“What’s it say?” Bucky asks, his voice quiet and low near your ear.
The glow of your flashlight helps you make out the words. “It says…What has keys but can’t open locks? What has a face but no eyes, nose, or mouth?”
You chance a quick glance at Bucky beside you. His eyes narrow. “I think I know this one,” he says slowly. “A clock, maybe.”
You read the riddle again, feeling his eyes on your profile. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” You hesitate a second. “Damn, Barnes. Not only all muscle, I see!” You're grateful for the teasing tone that made its way back to your voice and out of the corner of your eye, you can see Bucky’s grin lighting up his face again.
“You’d be surprised, doll,” he replies softly, a smile in his voice.
It isn’t quite the answer you had expected.
You thought he’d dig out the fact that you basically complimented his figure and you snapped your gaze up to his, though he doesn’t meet your eyes, instead staring at the letters on the wooden post.
“So, it’s a clock. What do we do with that?” He questions and you slowly turn back, lighting up the wooden flags again.
“There’s more.”
You move your light to the second flag, starting to read what’s written there.
“I’m a number that’s often paired. In harmony, I’m the perfect tease. Together we’re a perfect pair. A balance of Yin and Yang to share. In the morning, I’m bright and bold. By night, I’m soft and gentle to hold. My presence is felt in every way. From sunrise to sunset, every day.”
You hadn’t even finished reading when Bucky began shuffling a little beside you, straightening his spine. He watches you in silence now and you do your best to ignore his gaze.
You had no idea who came up with that riddle, but you feel like slapping that person. The weird tension between Bucky and you only tightens, seeming to snap any minute and this is no help at all.
Those words seem to sear themselves into your brain, echoing with an unsettling intimacy, you either wanted to bask in or get rid of.
You feel yourself wandering down a dangerous road.
You stare at those words carved into wood and it is as if someone had been watching you two, studying your dynamic, and decided to reduce your complicated relationship to a text.
But do you really think so?
In harmony? A perfect pair? Yin and Yang?
You know there was always something. You can try to suppress feelings for all you want but how can you get rid of something you won’t even acknowledge in the first place.
You like him. You like him a whole lot. Damn it, there is just something about this idiot you have to adore. But you can’t tell him that. Not now.
Not when the weight of his gaze hasn’t left you yet and you feel a flush rise in your cheeks.
Finally, you meet Bucky’s eyes, still fixed on you, as if waiting for something. His expression is unreadable and you feel like bolting away into the corn maze and getting lost. Maybe forever.
How can he look so calm and rigid at the same time? You know he is affected by those words but it looks more like he tries to see what they do to you.
His eyes dart back and forth between yours, so intense, your throat constricts and you look away, clearing your throat in hopes it will break the spell.
“Two,” you croak out. “That’s the answer. We have to head towards two o’clock.”
You see Bucky nodding slowly from the corner of his eye, his jaw clenched and you begin walking again.
The tension is palpable, like a living entity that wrapped itself around you. Every step feels like a struggle as if you’re wading through quicksand, fighting against the undertow of your own emotions.
The silence grows so thick, you can hardly breathe.
Light.
There is light just around the corner, beckoning you forward and distant voices grow louder with each step you take.
But right after rounding the corner, fog appears, wrapping you in its damp, grey folds. It’s disorienting at first but feels just like the fog you had passed at the entrance so this has to be a good sign.
However, as you spin around, desperate to locate Bucky, he is lost in the mist and you feel the suffocating need to feel him, hands reaching out frantically, grasping at nothing.
“Bucky!” You call out, voice strained and urgent. You don’t even notice the nickname rolling off your tongue, torn from your lips as if ripped from your throat.
In an instant, a gentle touch brushes against your arm. You jerk back at first, startled, but then feel the soft pressure of Bucky’s fingers wrap around yours. His other hand takes hold of yours, touch so gentle and careful as if you are something to be treasured.
Your heart begins to race as you realize he is right in front of you, chest nearly pressed against yours just like earlier, though this time it feels much more intense, intimate, purposeful.
You strain to see beyond the veil of mist, but it’s like gazing into a void. All you can make out is the faint outline of Bucky’s form, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His breathing is growing ragged. He can run however long away from a chainsaw-wielding man but standing in front of you is what makes him lose his breath?
Blood is pumping through your veins and you feel it rushing through your ears. He’s still standing in front of you, hands holding yours, chest resting against yours and you feel his hot breath against your face again.
You try to comprehend what he is doing, why he doesn’t lead you to the exit, but deep down you know. He’s gauging your reaction. Maybe he saw something in your gaze while reading this riddle, maybe it was in the way you looked at him, or carried yourself. But something about the way you had acted seemed to have given him courage. He found something as he searched your gaze at the wooden post.
And now he’s waiting for you.
“Bucky,” you whisper, barely audible but the hitch of a breath right in front of you is an indication he heard you.
His name is a plea, a confirmation, the consent to continue what he started.
Bucky’s fingers caress your skin, moving up your arms in such a slow motion as if he’s mapping and memorizing how every inch of your skin feels under his fingertips. Shivers run down your spine and goosebumps erupt in the wake of his hands and you know he can feel it.
His hesitation tempers down with every second.
The touch of his fingertips is magnetic and although you can’t see it, it draws you in with an almost magnetic force. You feel yourself leaning into him, eyes fixed on the fog where you know his own are, as if willing to clear it, ready to see the exact kind of blue you fell for. But you know he’s looking at you, not seeing, but still looking. And that was enough to make your stomach flutter.
As his fingers reach your face he gently tucks the flyaway strands behind your ear, holding your face in his palms and tilting it just right. His forehead lands on yours and you take a deep breath in until all you consume is him.
You don’t care about the eyesight you are lacking at the moment. You wouldn’t even care about hearing that menacing laughter again, or the roar from the chainsaw, because here in Bucky’s arms you’ve never felt saver.
You feel his presence in every way.
And when your lips meet his, moving in sync, you know.
In harmony! Like the perfect pair! Yin and Yang!
“Hold your horses, people, I hear something.”
You ignore Sam’s voice outside the fog, attention set on Bucky and his plump lips, his tongue gliding in your mouth, exploring its new home.
“Barnes! Hey, man! Y/n! You in there?”
Sam’s shout again remains ignored.
“You lost, guys, everyone’s out here!”
Bucky pulls away at that, resting his forehead against yours. You feel his huge smile against yours, keeping your eyes closed.
“Nah,” he whispers against your lips. “I definitely won today.”
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“The road might be long
The stars may not guide me
But if you keep your heart open
I will find you”
- Michael Xavier
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alessiasfreckles · 6 months
Text
amnesia - part 6 (ona batlle x reader, alexia putellas x reader, ona batlle x alexia putellas)
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part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5
a/n: this is a short one, sorry! but the next chapter is coming and will be a lot longer x
-------
“We can’t tell her,” Alexia said after a moment of silence. “She’s only just started getting her memories back, I don’t want to overwhelm her. She’s already had to deal with so much in the past few weeks.”
“Fuck,” Ona repeated. “I should never have come here. I just got her to forgive me, to trust me again, and now this, fuck!”
“It’s okay,” Alexia said, trying to soothe the younger player. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.”
“How? I promised her, no more lying! She’ll never forgive us.”
“It’s not… lying, necessarily. It’s just not telling her something,” Alexia said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself of that fact just as much as she was trying to convince Ona. “Not telling isn’t the same as lying.”
“Mierda,” the brunette dragged her hands down her face. “This can’t happen again.”
---
You hadn’t heard anything from Alexia or Ona all day, which was a little odd, but you supposed that they were at training and it was to be expected that they couldn’t be on their phones 24/7. Still, you found yourself missing them, both of them. 
Plus, you were bored, and started to feel frustrated about all of the hazy spots in your memory. So, you did what anyone in your position would do and googled yourself. First you read through your wikipedia page, which, to be fair, you’d already done a couple of times since waking up. Nothing really stood out there, except for some lines under ‘Personal life’ that detailed your involvement in the LGBTQ+ community. 
Where else could you find out more about yourself? You deliberated for a minute before going on Twitter and searching your name - you had a hunch that you’d been told not to look yourself up on social media before, that it was something most players tried to avoid. Still, you figured that social media would probably give you some more information, even if it was just about what people thought of you.
Once the search loaded, your laptop was flooded with posts about your accident, people theorising about what had happened, how you were doing. Scrolling back a little, you found posts with pictures of you and Alexia at the café you’d gone to together, with captions talking about the two of you. Some of them speculated what you were doing, if you were dating - you had gathered that your relationship with Ona wasn’t public knowledge, although a lot of people liked to talk about whether or not you were together.
As you kept scrolling, you realised that there was a fairly large amount of people who were convinced that it was Alexia you were dating, not Ona. You looked at photos posted of the two of you, people gushing over the way you were looking at each other, the way Alexia would touch you, her hand on your shoulder, your arm. You saw countless edits of the two of you, snippets of videos where you were deep in conversation or laughing together, Alexia’s smile always directed at you.
For a brief moment you wondered why the two of you weren’t dating, why it was you and Ona, and then felt guilty for even having that thought. You loved Ona, you knew that, you could feel it throughout your body, permeating your bones. Still, the thought remained at the back of your mind, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.
By the time 4pm rolled around and Ona finally rang your doorbell, you were so bored and sick of your own thoughts you could scream. 
“Thank god you’re here,” you said as she came in. “I’m so bored I’m going to rip my hair out.”
“Oh, so you just want me around to keep you entertained?” Ona asked, a mischievous grin on her face. “I see how it is.”
“Yep,” you shrugged. “Gotta keep things interesting somehow, you know?”
Ona swallowed down the guilt rising in her throat as she thought about that morning. She couldn’t let you know anything had happened. It wasn’t going to happen again. It was a one-off, a mistake. “What have you been up to today?” she asked brightly.
Your stomach twisted as you thought about the videos of you and Alexia. “Not much,” you quickly said. “I looked myself up online a bit, but there’s only so many times I can read my own wikipedia page before I start to feel like a narcissist.”
Ona laughed, not questioning your day’s activities any further, and the wave of relief you felt was tinged with shame.
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stararch4ngelqueen · 1 year
Text
Sheer Irony
(Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)
Time written- 5:58 p.m
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Titans!Jason Todd/fem!reader angst/fluff (TW: Suicide Mention/Attempt)
A faint breeze blows along your cheeks as you open the door, eyes glazing over a broad horizon full of dreary skies and rooftops. You find who you’re looking for standing ontop of a metallic platform framing along the edge of the building, his downturned head peering down at the dense, vacant streets below.
A long, harsh, catastrophic drop with just the wrong step.
Confusion rattled your mind when you wondered exactly what the hell was going on, never seeing such a trifling event happen in the common area. Millions of questions followed once you heard the screaming.
A million more followed suit when you walked in on the hostile environment, the air thick with static tension.
“You people are insane!” He had cried out by the second you entered the room, surprised to find a short crowd of people against him. Friends, colleagues, all glaring at him with accusations you didn’t fully hear.
“I’d rather be with Deathstroke than you assholes,” Jason states with an emotional quiver in his tone, growing more detectable towards the end of his words. “You think everything’s my fault.”
“Jason?” You call out to him, seeing his head lightly peek over his shoulder. Whether he heard you or not, he knew you arrived once the door was slammed shut behind you due to the wind.
“What do you want?” He asks with understandable bitterness wrapped up in a solemn tone, as if you were a stranger he could’ve cared less about.
Technically, you and Jason were colleagues for a long time, but never really reached the category of friends.
He was an obnoxious, painfully reckless Robin, but he was good. You were good, training yourself to set your differences aside to put the tasks at hand. You provided data, not violence.
The task now was to set those barriers of yours down with intentions to knock on his.
“To talk.” You reply, not wanting to approach further than you had to, but a huge part of you wanted to go further.
“Look. I don’t wanna hear any more bullshit—“
“Not about that,” you insist. “Just to talk, that’s all.”
To talk, to buy time. Anything.
Waves of guilt coursed through your veins for him, for his safety. The strong winds could easily sweep him off his feet if he allowed it, the tension in his braced legs preventing him from slipping off the ledge he stood on for now.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Jason states, his lungs burning with reach trembling breath he took. “The others think you’re crazy following me out here.”
“I don’t care what they think,” was your response, rooftop gravel crunching underneath your shoe as you took a slow step forward. “I don’t want you to be alone out here. That’s what matters.”
“Why?” He questions, refusing to turn around and face you with full disbelief on his face. “You hate me. You can’t stand me every time I’m around. No one can.”
“That’s not true,” you shake your head, slowly getting yourself to take another step forward. About four feet of distance remained between you and Jason, your mind cluttered with ideas on how to get him
“Jason, I don’t hate you.”
“You don’t need to lie to me,” Jason mutters, not believing you for a good second. You understood that he wouldn’t trust anyone after what you witnessed. You didn’t want to be on that side.
The steel frames were tall enough for you to hop up yourself, but the height was unnerving.
He remained quiet, pondering his rancid emotions running nonstop in his head. He felt himself nothing but poison; black pitch that stuck to everyone who so much as touched him, costing their skin like a cancer until it killed them.
That’s what was happening now, wasn’t it? Everyone was hating him, blaming him for things he didn’t understand. Now, here you were, coming up to add onto the pile. He assumed that on the spot. Why else were you here?
Bracing your hands along the beam, you push yourself up on it, fighting back your fear of heights to put yourself into this vulnerable position. Thinking slowly, you ponder over what else you could do, thinking over in your mind.
“Wanna sit?” You say, hoping he’d take the hand that offered such an innocent suggestion. “Talking is easier to do when sitting.”
To show this, you move into a sitting position beside him, feeling a little less tense on your concerns for falling. Jason doesn’t take the bait at first, only wondering as to why you were still even trying with him.
“You don’t need to be here,” he reverberates, but you weren’t going to have it.
“Neither do you,” you glanced up at him, seeing his attention fully focused on you, sitting beside him as of the ledge was just an every day public park bench.
Reluctantly, he shifts his position, leaving you to thank the Gods. With Jason sitting, you had much better control and opportunity to catch him, with the roof behind you to break both your fall.
“Do you want the truth?” You hesitantly ask, wondering if that’s what he needed. Someone who didn’t follow the others, who didn’t view him as a scapegoat to their problems, just because the unintentional category he fell into without realizing.
Just a glance of his bruised face in your direction after staring ahead for so long gave you the sign, smoothing your sweaty palms over thighs.
“You can be… obnoxious sometimes,” you proceed, slowly making the decision to proceed. “But not dark, or annoying, or… Look. I don’t get why they accused you on the spot. I really don’t.”
Silence continued to rattle his physique. His shifting head slowly peering downwards after hearing your words. His heartbeat began drumming in his head, his lungs burning with an irritated sting, his throat going dry.
“I might not like how you are, Jason,” you blatantly confess, “But I tolerate you enough to understand that you didn’t deserve this.”
There it was. Catching him off guard by cold facts, only to soothe the blow with truth. Your truth, the truth that should matter.
Not everyone was against him.
A part of him appreciates it, but at the same time, he grew irritated at your persistence to tell him what he already knew. It only made his feelings for you that much harder to understand.
He was supposed to not like you.
You were smart, yes. You popped one liners when you helped relay information to the Titans, read books and kept journals by yourself during your free time, and listened to music when you were in desperate need of relief after plenty of audible overstimulation.
The way you had your hair styled on different days, your persistence of spraying perfume on yourself before going to bed.
You weren’t loud, you weren’t overtly quiet. You respected business and boundaries, despite your job to hack and defy the purpose of them behind a computer screen.
He hated how unique yet simple you were. No one would suspect you of your talents, balancing your double life with little to mo effort.
“You don’t deserve this, Jason,” you say in order to remind him, watching his calloused fingers slowly flexing in his lap, signifying his various difficult emotions. You’d say it as many times as you needed to, to ram it into his every day thoughts.
“I don’t hate you,” you shake your head, peering at his battered, slowly healing face. “And… maybe I don’t entirely hate just how annoying you are. Sometimes, it makes things fun on a boring night.”
The corner of his busted lip rose in a faint, subtle smile. That made an interesting amount of sense. Maybe he was the type to irritate you on purpose, especially during his much earlier days.
His much earlier, flirtier Robin days.
“How annoying?”
Maybe, just maybe, being his friend didn’t sound like such a bad idea.
“Horribly,” you instantly reply as it became your turn to smile. “I mean it. Every day I wake up and dread what stupid thing you’d say next. What could you possibly say today for me to cringe at.”
If the both of you weren’t sitting on the edge of a building, Jason would have half a heart to nudge you with his shoulder. But, he knew your fear of heights.
“You think of me?”
“It’s hard not to, Jay.”
“Did I miss a party?” You announce as you enter the dark, gloomy hallway, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of two tall men talking to one another. A pile of unconscious bodies explaining their rigorous treatments just moments before you arrived.
“You missed the fun,” Jason chides, an amused smirk quickly growing on his face. The first full bodied smile Tim had seen on Jason since they met.
“A little earlier, you coulda joined in on your kickass computer skills.”
“Oh, ha ha,” you say, catching sight of Jason’s said laptop abandoned on the ground, bits of broken glass hinting at an unsalvageable screen. “Looks like someone beat me to it already.”
“It’s you.” Tim’s voice makes your head raise, giving the man a smile as you take in his Robin uniform.
“It’s me,” you reply, feeling a nostalgic flutter in your chest upon seeing that uniform worn by someone new. “I see Dick passed on the torch. How’s it feel?”
“He’s learning fast,” Jason gestures with a raised finger before pointing towards the bodies. “Very fast.”
“I see that.”
Ever since you had made the choice to step back from your position with the Titans a while back, life had gotten more chaotic in very unexpected ways.
You changed; in heart, in mind, in maturity.
You’ve grieved your best friend’s death, silently took pleasure in violent justice in the deaths of those who’ve betrayed and harmed your colleagues. You grieved once more when masks were unveiled, and even aided the wrong crowds for a while.
At your age, you’ve seen it all, you’ve learned from other peoples mistakes, as well as your own. You hated it, but accepted the lessons learned. As off as that sounds, that’s the best way you could describe it.
You kept in touch with Dick when he needed the help from the ‘attractive computer geek,’ so you were at least aware of what was going on. Hearing it all from Tim’s perspective brought back the times when you used to work alongside a particular ex-Robin, who remained standing close to your side during all topics of discussion.
“I got to meet the great Red Hood,” you watched with a smile a few steps up on the staircase as Tim prods Jason’s chest in a friendly manner, causing a flare in his ego as he chuckles in response.
“Don’t forget her,” Jason gestures his head up towards you, Tim’s eyes catching the faint flush in your cheeks.
“Poor girl’s kept us from running around with our heads cut off for years.”
“Always gotta respect the tech workers,” Tim agrees with a nod, making you scoff in amusement. “At least you didn’t call me ‘customer support’. That’s Grayson’s favorite.”
You said you were leaving when Tim was considerate to offer you a ride, but you brush off that you had your own, intending to head out for a date in two hours.
But, you weren’t.
The Titans, old or new, didn’t need to know all your secrets, regardless if cracking them was your specialty.
“You gave him your bike?” You ask once he gets off the phone with said old bird, approaching him as he gazed up at a clear board with various equations scrawled on the surface.
“Just sits there getting dust in the corner. I trust him to take care of it.” Jason sips at his dark drink once more before trailing off to the side, setting the bottle down.
“Still on for tomorrow night?” Jason asks, watching smile form on your face. The date. It was kinda true.
“Of course. Just came by to get my lipgloss.” You smirk, raising up your cherry flavored lip product you had to fetch from under his bed where it had rolled. “Forgot it here last night, remember?”
“How could I ever.” Jason replies with a lowered rumble, recalling all the memories of the night prior, involving getting sticky, glittery cherry gloss along his lips, leaving remnants of it smeared on his neck after a very short, sexually tense conversation.
“Kinda thought you’d wear a scarf when you showed up,” he teases as he approached, amused at your eye roll.
“I don’t do scarves, Todd,” you state, feeling it harder to fight off a smile. Your hands ease off your hips to settle across Jason’s broad shoulders.
“Whatever you say, shortcake.”
By now, you should take up a job at being a makeup counter girl, especially considering how well you managed to cover up your hickies over the span of many, many months.
Your nose lightly brushes with his, his lips merely missing yours on purpose, planting a single kiss on the corner of your mouth before holding you closer, your hips smugly fitting into his hands.
You were a breath of fresh, rainstorm air after a dark storm, your perfume clinging to his clothes for days.
“Was thinkin’,” he murmurs. “We’d try to reenact last night for our date night.”
“Hmm, with a different flavor?”
“You taste a lot better without it.”
You giggle, settling your hands along his back to keep secure in this comforting embrace.
“You think of me like that?” The words softly leave your lips.
He smiles down at you, his eyes full of warmth and comfort in your presence, cradling your right cheek after fixing a bit of your hair. He can’t help but shift attention to your pretty lips; perfect petal soft skin that displayed the prettiest of smiles to his god awful humor.
“It’s hard not to, babe.”
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Text
Birthday Wish | Jung Wooyoung
-> Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader
-> Request: No. This is a repost from my old account.
-> Synopsis: Wooyoung surprises reader on her birthday.
-> Warnings: Pure self-indulgent fluff I wrote for my birthday last year.
-> Word Count: 944
-> Requests: Open.
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©️ 2024 woojoongstreasure - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead
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Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you. 
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“Happy Birthday, Jagiya!” Wooyoung screamed at the top of his lungs as he enters Y/N’s bedroom, interrupting the video call she is on with her friend who is currently overseas, working abroad for a year.   
Having not heard him come into her room until he screamed, she jumped and spun around quickly to face him and scold him. “What the fuck, Woo?”  
Instead of apologizing, he smiles wide, seeming proud of himself as he holds up the cake decorated with her favorite animal, which just so happens to be foxes, towards her and repeats what he had screamed a moment ago but this time more quietly. “Happy birthday!”   
“Thank you,” She sighs knowing she can’t be mad at the man who had stolen her heart the moment they met during their trainee days.   
He places the cake on her top of her dresser, before wrapping his arms around her and placing a sloppy kiss to her cheek. She scrunches up her face feeling the wetness against her cheek. Even though she should be used to his affection, after all the years of knowing him, her cheeks still burn red, heart racing.  
“Who is that?” they hear, reminding Y/N she’s still on a video call with her friend.  
“Shit,” she mumbles under her breath before picking up her phone, still wrapped in Wooyoung’s arms. “Sorry, it was just Wooyoung, coming to surprise me.”  
“That’s Wooyoung?” she questions, causing Y/N’s cheeks to grow hotter as her blush deepens. Her friend on the phone is the one she always goes to when she wants to talk about him and her massive crush on him. She’s one of the two people who know about it. While Yeosang didn’t tease her about it, her only female best friend sure did.  
“Hello,” Wooyoung leans on her shoulder, greeting her friend before she could properly introduce them.   
“Hi,” her friend greets back. “It’s nice to finally meet you but I must go. Just remembered I have a few things to do. Make sure our Y/Nnie has a lot of fun today!”  
“I definitely will!” he assures her.   
“Good,” she smiles. “I’ll talk to you later, Y/Nnie,” she adds before ending the call.  
Once the call is over, Wooyoung snatches her phone out of her hand and slides it into his pocket before picking up the cake and walking out of her bedroom without saying anything.  
“What are you doing?” she asks, following him and sounding a little annoyed. “Give me my phone back.”  
“Ya!” He growls and slaps her hand away when she tries to take it from his pocket. “You can have it back later.”  
“But what if eomma calls me,” she pouts, glaring at him.   
“I’ll talk to her,” he replies as they reach the kitchen. He puts the cake on the kitchen counter and turns to face her. “We both know that she loves me more.”  
“Only because she doesn’t have an actual son,” she scoffs. She’s the eldest of three daughters. It’s her mother who always goes on about having no sons, unlike her sister who has four sons and no daughters. “And I’m pretty sure she loves Yeosang and Yunho more than you.”  
He looks at her like she just offended him by suggesting he isn’t her mother’s favorite. He’d been the second to meet her mother, after Yeosang who’s known Y/N since they were babies, their families being neighbors since before they were born.  
“If she wants an actual son, I’ll just marry you and make it official,” he says as he rummages through one of her kitchen drawers to find the matches she keeps for her candles.  
Y/N freezes, her cheeks burning red even more than before, her heart thumping against her chest and her mind racing with thoughts that she’s unable to speak aloud due to not being able to speak at all in this moment.  
When she doesn’t say anything, he looks at her, his face the most serious she’s ever seen it. “What do you say? Should we get married?”  
“I uh... I,” her brain was malfunctioning as she tried to pull together a sentence that would make sense.  
“I should probably take you on a date first,” he says more to himself as he lights the candle on the cake. He picks it back up and brings it over to her. She’s still standing there looking at him, stunned. “Make a wish,” he adds holding the cake up higher.  
“Are you being serious?” she asks, finally able to speak even though her heart and mind are still racing. “You can’t say stuff like that if you-”  
She’s cut off by Wooyoung crashing his lips to hers, stunning her even more. “I’m being serious. I’ve been in love with you since we met too,” he tells her, his beautiful deep brown eyes boring into hers, letting her know just how serious he’s being. “We won’t get married right away but I want you to know that if we start a relationship, I’m in it for life. That includes marriage, kids, and everything else that comes with it. Now make a wish.”  
“I don’t need to anymore,” she tells him tell him before blowing out the candle. She takes the cake from him, putting it back on the kitchen counter, before pulling him in for another kiss. “I now have everything I could wish for.”  
Before Wooyoung could respond, her phone lets her know she’s got a notification. He takes it out of his pocket and hands it to her. She unlocks her phone and finds a text from Yeosang.  
‘Happy Birthday, Y/Nnie! Enjoy your day with Woo. Thank me later tonight.’ 
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zsturiolosx · 6 months
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Overwhelmed
pairing: Chris x Reader
summary: You and your boyfriend, Chris, were fighting the whole day. The reason? You don’t know. He’s just been out of patience with you the whole day.
warning: angst, fighting, crying, fluff, cursing.
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Chris has been ignoring you, giving you short answers, and it’s been on your nerves.
What the fuck is wrong with him? Is something you said? Or did? But you can’t remember anything that got him angry with you.
You’re on his room, laying on his bed, on your phone. Chris is in his gaming chair, also checking his phone.
But every time you start talking to him, he snorts and after a second gets up and leaves the room. He has done this three times already.
You just wanted to talk to him, hear his voice without having that tone. You just wanted Chris to look at you without narrowed eyes.
Your body misses his touch and affection, but every time you try to understand what’s wrong, he leaves you alone.
You see him getting up and leaving the room, slamming the door as he leaves you alone, again.
You feel your eyes burning, but you hold your tears and sit up, waiting for him. After a couple of minutes, the door opens again, and Chris enters the room, too focused on his room to realize you were staring at him.
He sits back up in his chair, taking the hair off his eyes.
“Chris” You call him, you hear him taking a deep breath, but not answering.
“Chris” You say again, the brunette boy rolls his eyes at your voice, but he looks up and his angry gaze meet yours.
“What?” His voice was harsh and low, felt like a knife in your skin.
“What happened, Chris?” Your voice, different from his, was soft and nervous, as if you were stepping on eggs to talk to him. “Why are you acting like this?”
He scoffs, moving his head side to side.
“What are you talking about?” His smile now fades away, and she stares down at you, you feel your whole body burning with fear and anger. “Do I need to be fucking smiling every second?”
Your body trembles from the anger and rudeness in his voice. Your eyes burn again, but you can’t cry, not now, not infront of him.
“No, but I need you to talk to me and tell me what’s wrong” Your voice is faltering, you struggle to speak because of his gaze.
“Oh my god…” Chris whispers to himself, looking down, before screaming at you. “Nothing, okay?! Mind your business, jeez”
You feel anger growing inside you, you feel disappointed and sad, missing him and wanting him to stop this little tantrum.
“No, i’m not gonna mind my own business when you’re acting like this, so annoyed and mad and won’t tell me why!” You say louder than before, your hands shaking as you hold your phone. “Let’s just talk.”
Your voice failed to come out right in the last word, now it’s obvious how nervous you are. And you get even more nervous when Chris leaves his phone in his desk and gets up, looking down at you.
“Stop talking! You’re just yapping, yapping, yapping in my ear!” He snaps at you, your eyes watering as you try to stop it. “I have a fucking headache! So just shut the fuck up!”
How dare he tell you to shut up, when he damn well know that you hate when people do that. Ever since you were a kid, everybody tells you to be quiet, and you told Chris how that made you feel, and he promised never to make you feel that way again.
And he just broke your promise.
You feel your eyes water more and more, until a tear falls down your cheek. And one more tear, and more, more, more.
You can’t stop crying while Chris stares you with brows furrowed and dark eyes. You get up and leave the room, slamming the door.
As you find your way to his bathroom, you close the door and lock. You rest you back in the door and slides to the door.
Your whole body was trembling as whimpers and sobs leave your mouth quietly. Your tears made your whole face wet, mouth trembling. Your hand were tight around your knees, while you hide your face between your legs.
It just hurts so much the way he started yelling at you for wanting to fix the problem. The way he cursed and screamed for you to shut up, like he said he would never do.
You try to keep yourself from crying, but the whole day you felt overwhelmed and worried about your relationship, you were the whole day pushing these feeling away, until you snapped and couldn’t take it anymore.
You hear knocks in the other side of the door, you raise your head, hearing Chris on the other side.
“Y/n, baby.” His voice was muffled because of the door that kept you apart. “I’m so, so sorry. I am a fucking idiot, a dickhead. Please open the door.”
Chris begs, while you while the tears that rolled down your red cheek. “Go away” You say, angry.
He sighed, knocking softly on the door once again.
“Baby, please, i need to talk to you.” When he doesn’t hear anything back, Chris continues talking. “You have every right to want to never, ever talk to me again. I acted so stupid and so shitty, but i need you in my life, so let me please solve this.”
After a couple of seconds of silence, you get up and unlock the door, opening and seeing Chris, standing there, hands slightly shaking, his blue eyes now red.
“I am so sorry, so sorry I can’t even describe it with words.” He starts talking, his low and raspy voice making your knees tremble. “This week has been the worst, the fans are going crazy, I’m feeling overwhelmed, my head hurts 24/7.”
You hold your hand, squeezing your fingers together. The knot in your throat slowly fading away, as you feel your tears stopping.
“I’m an idiot, because I took it out on you, and you don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you, you are an angel, the girl of my dreams.” Chris’s voice was stuttering, as he slowly reaches your hand. He grabs your hand and interlock your fingers together.
“Chris…” You start talking, your voice was careful, slow. But before you could continue your sentence, Chris interrupts you.
“And I know this doesn’t explain anything.” You can see the fear in his eyes. “But I was afraid, afraid of us, our relationship.”
You frown your brows, confused, without understanding what he means.
“I was afraid because I’m feeling things I have never felt before.” Chris steps closer to you, his fast breathing hitting you. “I love you, Y/n. So much that it makes me afraid.”
Your heart drops, as you feel your breath run out of your body. Your heart beat was so fast it looked like your heart was about to jump out of your chest.
It was the first time Chris said that to you, and you knew how afraid of relationships he was.
Chris looks down, his hair covering his red blue eyes, his hands trembling while still holding yours.
“Chris” You say, grabbing gently his chin and making you look at you. “I love you too.”
His face instantly lightens up, as he smiles and holds you face with both of his hands. Chris leans up closer to you, lips meeting yours.
His soft and pink lips touch yours so delicate, asking for passage for his tongue to meet yours, exploring every detail of your mouth. His hands were holding your face like he was afraid you were gonna escape.
You can feel his heartbeat as his chest touches yours, both of your breathing accelerated.
Chris interrupted the kiss, his forehead resting in your, as you feel his eyes on you mouth the whole time. His thumbs were gently cleaning the rest on tears that were in the corner of your eyes.
“I’m so happy to have you, and please, never shut up.”
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reidsbookclub · 7 months
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Yours Truly Spencer Reid x fem! reader WC: 2555  fluff pure fluff tw: mentions of Gideon's death
AN: ending is a bit rushed but when I copy & pasted here I accidentally deleted it and couldn’t recall everything I wrote 😩
It’s been three months living with the knowledge that Gideon is no longer there. His conversation with Rossi was haunting him in the middle of the night. “I know I’m not being very rational,” he had told Rossi, “but I think about him all the time. And I knew he was always out there, now it just feels empty.” Rossi’s words still echoed in his mind. “Maybe you’ll find something else to fill the empty space.” He couldn’t even begin to imagine finding anything that would fill the void of now knowing that his mentor would no longer be just a call away. He needed to find a way to feel close to him, so he put pen to paper and did what he knew best: he started writing Gideon letters with the intent of them being addressed to fire. He put pen to paper and tried to connect it to the cloudy thoughts of his brain. After a couple of hours he fell asleep with the warmth of the fireplace enclosing him in a hug. 
Not even in his wildest dreams did he ever thing that letter would get read and replied to. 
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It had been three months since her godfather Jason had passed away, three months of losing the only father figure she had had. If she didn’t know any better she could’ve sworn that he was still around, his presence felt throughout the small cabin she was inherited.  Stephen, Jason’s son, had delivered a letter stating such. The simple letter in the testament read, “Y/N, just know that a very good friend of mine holds a key to this cabin, he might drop by if he feels the need to feel close to me, or just an escape from the darkness of this world. Be kind to him, Dr. Reid needs some warmth, kindness and love in his life.”  
Days later she found a piece of paper on the floor of the cabin. She really needed to seal the mail slot on the door and install a mailbox.  But she couldn’t help but let out a gasp on who sent it, the Dr. Reid in her godfather's letter. 
Dear Gideon,  It’s been three months since you’ve passed and I can’t help but ask why I never reached out to you when you left the BAU. 
Oh. So he’s a coworker. She wondered if he helped found the BAU alongside Rossi and her godfather, suddenly wondering if Dr. Reid had many stories about her godfather’s younger days.  Silencing her thoughts, she continued reading. 
You know how I’m a specialist at overthinking everything and I just can’t help but wonder if I still have a place in the BAU now that you’ve gone. 
Who is this Dr. Reid? 
Gideon I’m becoming a mastermind at vanishing into the deep thoughts of my brain in the middle of the night. Midnights have now become my afternoons. I miss the talks we used to have. If I’m being honest I’m finding it so hard to find my place with the team now that I can’t just hide in your office. Can you believe Morgan invited me out to the club? Me. 
Club? Was Dr. Reid not an old guy like her godfather or was Morgan just being nice and inviting a mentor out to drinks?  Curiosity getting the best of her, she continued reading the letter, hoping to get more answers on who Dr. Reid really is. 
You always used to say my first degree was running away into the deep thoughts of my mind but I think I have added a fourth Ph.D to my resume and that’s being my own worst enemy. 
Multiple Phds? She couldn’t even finish school. Who was this guy? 
You know how hard it is to admit it to myself but I miss you Gideon. Sometimes I still talk to you when I feel like screaming at the sky, angry that you left me with nothing but a letter, just like everyone else that had ever left me did, but I can't be angry at you.  -SSA Agent Reid…. Yes I know, Gideon. I need to make people respect me. So I guess I’m signing off as, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid. 
He wouldn’t need to make people respect him if he wasn’t young? Would he? Not being able to get her mind off the mysterious Dr. Reid, she decided to write him a letter.
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Coming back from a demanding case always felt like a relief and the worst thing in the world at the same time. Relief for finally being home and the worst thing because once you’re home, warm in bed, your mind starts reliving every little thing you could’ve done differently. This night would be different. Spencer was greeted at the door by his Russian Blue cat named Atticus and a tea-stained letter on his mailbox. 
Dr. Spencer Reid, I must admit that receiving a letter addressed to my godfather was surprising, I fully apologize for opening and reading your letter, I assumed you meant for no one to read it. Have you ever been to my godfather Jason’s cabin? If you have, then you must know that there is a small town that is 15 miles away. I went there earlier today and down the block from the main road there is a small antique shop. I stopped and entered, always curious about the stories that old items have, who owned them? Were they special to them or just small trinkets, why did the owner sell them? All these questions. No answers. Anyways, there was a box filled with old drawings and photographs. 25 cents each and I couldn't help but buy some because they all reminded me of you.  You must think I'm insane for saying that something reminded me of you when we have never met, so please don’t profile that too much, anyways, these photographs had me imagining things. It's crazy. Heck, I don’t even know anything about you. Yes, I could look it up but where's the fun in that? Is it crazy that I can’t help myself and imagine who you are? That I cannot help but think of all of these little scenarios making a film about your life. I’ve been rambling too much about nonsense so take care Dr. Reid.   - Hope you stay safe  Y/N
Reid read and re-read the surprise letter. Atticus on his lap sleeping. Goddaughter, why couldn't he recall Gideon ever mentioning a goddaughter. Who was she? Based on the letter she rambled…a lot and got excited about the most random things. Reid let out a soft giggle startling Atticus. “I think…I think I want to write another letter, Atticus. She seems fun to talk to, don't you think?” 
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Silence. That is all she heard for three long weeks cursing herself for responding to his letter the way that she did.  He must’ve thought she was nothing but a foolish petulant child with her dreaming and fantasizing about different worlds and what ifs. Just as she was wondering if she should write another letter apologizing she heard the unmistakable sound of papers being thrown into the mail slot. “Thank you!” she shouted through the door to the mailman. One coffee-stained envelope standing out over the spam ads she got.
Dear Y/N, I must admit writing a letter to you seems a bit strange so please bear with me if I seem   awkward,  I promise I am working on it. Shit I spilled some coffee on the paper, hopefully its not that noticeable. Who am I kidding of course it will be noticeable. Well I am hoping you like coffee smells. Ms. Y/N I hope that the letter I sent you did not cause you any more grief, and please feel free to…how did you put it? “ramble much about nonsense” to me at any time. I thought it was cute. Well now I am thankful you cannot see the blush I have because Derek is sure making fun of me at the moment. I’m sorry that it seems like forever since you last replied to me but the case we had was taking a toll on me and I couldn’t seem to taint your sunshineness with the darkness of the case. I just wanted to let you know that the way you make time disappear everytime i re-read your letter brings me calmness, and brings me hope that maybe someday we could become friends. Please always continue telling me about the little what if scenarios that help you make my life seem more interesting than it is. I find it adorably cute that you do these things. Now I can’t help but wonder if you will think I am just a boring old man that sits in the corner of a dark room– I promise I am not. Anyways, a little about myself I have a cat named Atticus, I enjoy stimulating my brain by learning new things which is how I got three Phds. You can always find me with coffee and a good book and—fucking hell I sound boring as fuck and you give off the impression of being this magnetic carefree beautiful person.   Great, now I am overthinking everything I have said so far – everyone knows that afterall i am a specialist at doing so.  Thats all for now  Sincerely, Spencer Reid. 
She couldn’t help but giggle. All throughout the letter Spencer sounded just like the type of person that she would love to get to know further. Someone that in another life would be considered a tortured poet, living amongst the rest of them in the peacefulness of the lakes, someone that would be rubbing elbows with Wordsworth and Austen. As she re-read the letter she was trying to ignore the blush that spread across her cheeks at Spencer using the word cute in reference to her. One thing was certain that she would be holding on to her pen-pal because for some reason he made her feel a way no other person was able to do. 
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It had been two months since the initial letter that started this newfound friendship Spencer found himself in. The only thing that has kept him going were the weekly letters that Y/N has been sending him. They’re weekly letters always bringing a smile to his face and giving him the necessary “push” in between cases. This new letter brought an even bigger smile to his face and the sudden urge to finally drive up to that cabin and meet the person that has been holding his mind captive all day. 
Dear Spencer,  How is Atticus doing? I know you were planning on adopting a kitten to keep Atticus company while you are away. May I suggest a cute little white cat? Or a ginger cat? Maybe one named  Arlo or Agatha or something old  literature sounding. How have you been? Are the headaches gone? Today I went down to the small village that is close by and there is this new coffee place and I couldn’t help but think about how much you would like it. Would you be interested in ever meeting me there? Keeping this one short and sweet because i did kinda sorta just ask you out and anxiety is at an all time high  - Y/N
There was one thing that Spencer learned that night and that was that for the first time in years he allowed himself to hope that maybe just maybe the person he was falling for was falling right alongside him. 
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Girls night. Oh how she missed her friends ever since moving into the cabin. It had taken a lot of convincing but she had finally managed to get her friends up for the weekend. In the middle of drinks she started gushing about Spencer and their friendship. She was telling her friends about the cute pen-pal she had and how she had taken the leap to ask him out. “Ha. What a loser do you really think that and FBI agent will take the time to come and meet someone as boring as you?” Her so-called best friend Lindsey had said, her words ringing in her ear drink after drink. How could she be so foolish thinking that a guy as smart as Spencer would ever confess his love to her. It had been a cold reminder that she was not the exception, that after years of this happening she had not learned her lesson that fairy tale endings did not happen to girls like her. So, for the first time in the two months they had been communicating instead of answering his letter she burned it, eventually leaving him at the coffee house waiting, glued to his chair instead of meeting her for the first time. The following week the first of many daily letters arrived in which he kept asking her why. 
Dear Y/N, Did I do something wrong? Did you move on? Help me because in my mind I'm still at that coffee shop collecting dust wondering where you are, wondering why you didn’t show up. If you ever think you may have got it wrong and want to meet, I will be at that coffee shop every Friday at 7 waiting for my sunshine to show up.  Yours truly, Spencer 
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Three weeks. It had been three long weeks since he had heard from her, so he decided to take the initiative and for the first time since Gideon’s death he used the key he had left him. The drive to the cabin was filled with anxious thoughts. Would she be happy to see him? Did she meet someone while they were writing letters? 
Walking into the cabin he could smell something baking and the unmistaken sound of laughter coming from the small kitchen, making his way around the cabin he caught a glimpse of her dancing around the kitchen, “wow you are even more beautiful than I ever thought.” he said catching her off guard. “Who the fuck are you and how did you get in here?” she yelled “Oh–i–right yeah i – Spen–Rei–Doctor” he let out a puff of air, “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid. Gideon actually gave me a key to this place.” he smiled softly as crimson crept across her face. “Oh, hi wh–a–what are you doing here?” “I was worried about you” he mumbled
“Oh” In any other situation awkward silence would have followed but not between them, instead fits of laughter happened. “I’m sorry I blew you off Spencer” taking a deep breath she continued, “its just… a friend reminded me that girls like me don’t get the cute guys” Taking a step close to her spencer began rubbing circles in her wrist with his thumb “Y/N whoever said that is not a friend. I fell for the personality that shined through the letters we exchanged, I couldn’t care less about what you looked like you were already perfect in my mind and now that I am seeing you I can confirm that you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met” They spend that whole weekend together, the days consisting of  baking, stargazing and teaching Y/N how to play chess and nights filled with cuddles, kissing and watching movies together.
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rebelspykatie · 1 year
Text
Soulmate AU Part Three 
Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five 
Steve doesn’t see him, bent over the hood of the car, elbow deep and sweat dripping from his forehead despite the cool breeze. He makes a frustrated noise and there’s an ominous clanging sound. Eddie’s never been good at sitting still, at minding his own business, especially when it comes to Steve. He feels pulled towards him, wanting to help, at his breaking point with this tension between them. 
Maybe it’s the universe intervening or maybe Eddie has no self preservation skills when he stops behind Steve and asks, “Need a hand?”
Steve startles so bad he hits his head on the hood and curses. When he turns around, he stops and sucks in a sharp breath. “Eddie.” He looks back at the hood of the car with eyebrows furrowed. “How hard did I hit my head?”
“I can help.” Eddie moves closer and peers into the car.
“With my head?” Steve is rubbing at it now and Eddie’s beginning to wonder if he’s concussed. 
“The car.” 
“Oh.” Steve steps aside, giving him a strange look, and lets Eddie work on it, undoing whatever Steve thought he was fixing and addressing the real problem. Steve’s too quiet. And Eddie’s never been good with silence, either. 
“I’m sorry I ruined your life.” Eddie says, so quiet he’s surprised Steve even heard it. It’s not what he meant to say. It tumbled out of his mouth without a second thought. Something that’s been on his mind since Steve came back to school looking like the thought of Eddie being his soulmate ripped his bright future right out of his hands.
He doesn’t pull himself up to look at Steve. He can’t. Just stays bent over, working on fixing the car, and screaming inside his own head at his stupidity. He can’t even get this first conversation right, no wonder Steve wants nothing to do with him. 
“Ruined my life?” Eddie does finally turn around at Steve’s tone. The way it sounded like a question, like he doesn’t know exactly what Eddie’s referring to. 
“I know my name’s on your wrist. I know it’s probably the last name you wanted there. Fate is a cruel bitch attaching you to me like that. I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Wheeler and that you’ll have to lie to everyone about whose name is there for the rest of your life. You deserve better than that.” 
“You-” Steve rubs the back of his head, blinking slowly, “you think you ruined my life?”
“Not showing up to school for a week was a pretty good indicator that I’m not what you expected,” he shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant even though he’s dying inside.
“Is that why you didn’t talk to me for a year after my name appeared on your wrist?” Steve glances down at the cuff on his arm. “Because you think I deserve better?” 
Eddie nods and Steve scoffs. 
“So you made that decision for both of us? What about what I wanted?”
“You were dating Nancy and we’ve never talked in four years of attending the same school. You’re a jock and I’m just a freak. Why would the golden boy of Hawkins want anything to do with me?” 
“I’m so sick of people thinking that they know what’s best for me!” Steve yells and Eddie jerks back. He’s never seen Steve snap like that. “Every single person in my life thinks they should have a say in who I should be with, but what about me? I waited eighteen years to find out what name was going to appear on my wrist. I didn’t care if it was Nancy, Tommy H, or you, or anyone else. I just wanted to find out who that person was, so I could prove to myself that fate isn’t just a bunch of bullshit like it is with my parents.”
“Steve, I-”
“I just wanted someone to love me.”
There’s a charged silence that hangs in the air, only the sound of Steve’s heavy breathing echoing in the empty parking lot.  
“Is that all you see me as? King Steve?” Steve spits out the moniker with venom. And he sounds mad, but his face is doing this thing that Eddie’s never seen before, eyes glassy and lower lip trembling. He looks ready to come apart at the seams. 
Eddie takes a moment to think about it and he already knows what his answer is. He’s had a whole year to watch Steve, unbeknownst to him. Steve’s never bullied anyone as far as Eddie knows, but it’s more than that, he’s kind and soft in ways that most of the school doesn’t recognize. Eddie’s seen it from the privacy of his trailer as Steve pulls up to take care of the Mayfield girl when her mom’s on a three day bender. Or that time he caught him carting around a whole car full of preteens that dragged him into the arcade like he was their big brother. 
His traitorous little heart has been falling for him this whole time. Quietly picking out all the ways they could fit together, even if Steve never wanted any of this. Eddie had resigned himself to yearning, to imagining a life together that was just out of reach. He doesn’t dare to hope that he’ll have more than that.
“No, you’re more than King Steve.” He nervously fiddles with a strand of hair, pulling it in front of his face. “Or, you’ve never actually been King Steve, I don’t know, man. You’re just so- uh, so wholesome and I’m this.” He waves a greasy hand at his ripped jeans and handmade hellfire shirt. “I was afraid you’d hate me.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been called wholesome before,” Steve huffs out a laugh, face softening with Eddie’s honesty. “You’re not a freak, Eddie. And I don’t think we’re all that different.” 
“That’s a good one.”
“No really,” Steve takes a step closer and it takes all of Eddie’s willpower not to turn tail and run. “You were right about one thing, the universe is a cruel bitch, but I don’t think that it gets it wrong very often. I was afraid that you’d think I’m boring or annoying, like you always yelled about in the cafeteria. Just another dumb jock. Thought you’d laugh at all my silly, romantic notions. But I do want those things.”
“You want romance…with me?”
They stare at each other for a moment before Steve nods. 
This can’t be happening. He must be having an out of body experience. 
“I’d like to try, at least. It may not always be perfect, or easy, but I want to try if you’re open to the idea.” Steve looks determined, nodding once like he’s made up his mind. “Eddie Munson, can I take you out on a date?”
Part Four
Thank you so much to everyone for the overwhelming support on the first two parts of this. I am truly blown away by it all. I’ve never had anything take off like this and there’s so many of you (hi, thank you for following). There were so many requests for tagging on the last post that there’s no way I could fulfill them all, so I’m so so sorry to anyone that might’ve been expecting that. I decided just to not tag anyone to be fair. 
Hope that this eases your broken little hearts some, and get ready for some extra fun fluffy goodness soon. 
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