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twjournals · 3 years

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So Wrong It's Right

Sequel: What's Wrong is Right

Warning: dark!Peter Parker x reader, DUB-CON, manipulation, age gap, drinking

PLEASE READ MY WARNING BEFORE CONTINUING. I am not responsible for your media consumption. Any and all negativity will be blocked.

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You're an old troubled friend of May's. Your life consists of being a workaholic, a party animal, and bringing home the shittest of guys for a one-hit-wonder. Just when you get your life in order, you're knocked right back into your old habits. Peter has watched you suffer long enough. He can make it all better.

Your life was far from where you thought you would be. It was sad to say, but you were anything but a role model. Yet May still tolerated you, regardless of Peter. Maybe she used you as an example to show Peter what not to be or maybe she was just too good of a friend to leave you on your own. To say the least, your life was a mess but you could not be more grateful to have a friend like May.

"Peter, go get me a wet rag, please," May spoke quietly. Peter left your side once he helped May get you over to the couch. You were beyond the limits that someone should be drunk.

You were in a fit of hiccups, giggling to yourself as May bent down to take off your heels. You had far too many drinks, that much was clear.

"Maaay, you.." you hiccupped, "are suuuch a good.." you hiccupped again, "friend."

May shook her head with a sigh, taking in the drunken sight of you. She was not sure how you managed to let yourself get this far gone, but every time you would drink, this is how you ended up. Either you had zero limits or you loved to push the limits you did have.

"Pet-" May started to call over her shoulder, but Peter was already hurrying in the room with his hands full.

"I'm here, Aunt May." Peter reminded and she watched as Peter sat the trash can nearby the couch. He then placed the bottle of water on the table with some medicine for the headache he knew would come with your awake in the morning. He kneeled down beside you on the couch, pressing the rag to your forehead.

May only smiled to herself as she pulled the blanket from its spot on the back of the couch and pulled it over your figure. She didn't say anymore. Peter had seen his Aunt May take care of you many nights when you were so shit-faced it was a wonder you could still see faces.

Your head was propped up against a pillow on the couch as Peter wiped your forehead with the cool rag. Your skin was burning up. Peter could not help but wonder how you let yourself get like this. You were quite a few years younger than May, but it amazed him how different the two of you were to be the best of friends.

You were fast asleep in no time, making Peter smile as his eyes gazed over your face. He had always thought you were so beautiful. Too precious to be taken advantage of by the guys you went after. He witnessed many nights when you had told Aunt May about a new guy you had hooked up with. Everyone knew it was nothing more than a one-night stand, but Peter could not help but hate any guys that touched you only for only their benefit.

It was not until you had eventually settled down with a guy you had met from one of your nightstands that you finally stopped ending up on May's couch. You had moved on with your life, still keeping in contact with May every now and then. You were happy. Not just the sex but he was truly seemed like a guy you could see yourself spending forever with.

You had stopped drinking. You had stopped going out to parties. After the first year, you had moved into the city and got an apartment together. Another year later, you guys were engaged and everything seemed to fall into place. After 3 years, the wedding was right around the corner.

Your world moved at a quicker pace now considering all the things you needed to get done before the wedding. In between work and house chores, you were planning for your big day.

As time went by, you were so wrapped up in your own little world you did not notice the slow-burning flame in your partner slowly being put out. While your plans had been coming together, your relationship was falling apart. You had for the most part ignored all the signs and assumed he was having a bad day. It amazed you how many he was having. When you would try to talk to him, it seemed useless since you could never get him to talk about it. In reality, it all brewed into something bigger. It all hit you like a ton of bricks.

You had been working later hours than usual for extra money. It wasn't cheap, but you had told yourself it was okay to want the things you wanted. After all, this was going to be your first and hopefully wedding. You wanted everything to be perfect. You even tried to get opinions from your fiance to include his vision of it, but he insisted you were better at this sort of thing. You couldn't argue with that.

You wrapped up your work at the office fairly early so you decided to call it a night and surprise your fiance. You felt like everything was on track. One night worry-free was much needed. You had earned it.

You pushed open the front door to your apartment before walking through the living room into the kitchen. You sit your keys on the counter, placing your bag on the stool by the counter. You peered around the apartment for a moment. All the lights were off and it was quiet. Had he already gone to bed? You checked the time.

7:13pm

You were surprised you did not hear his game or at least him yelling at it. You started down the hallway to the bedroom you shared, staring at the closed door. Why was it closed when it was just him? You shook the thought a little too soon. Maybe if you had just thought a little longer, you would have prepared yourself for what was on the other side.

You pushed the door open just a little to see inside when you heard a faint moan from the other side. Your heart stopped. You stood in shock taking in the sight of the man you were in love with hovered over another girl in your bed under your covers. Your face was hot in embarrassment, anger. You were feeling so many things right now you could not think straight. You were hurt.

"Are you serious??" You blurted out, causing them both to jump to try and cover themselves.

"You're sick, Chris." She shoved his chest, pushing him off of her as she quickly got out of the bed. "He told me you guys were no longer together."

She scowled as she hurried to gather her clothes off the floor and pulling them on. If it were even possible, your eyes could have burned holes through the girl. You were in disbelief. Your jaw would have already been on the floor if it wasn't connected to your face.

"I'm so sorry." She mumbled, embarrassed as she hurried past you out of your apartment.

You were left to deal with Chris. You starred at him with tears kissing your eyes.

"I-"

You took a deep breath, shaking your head. "Don't."

"I can explain." He started to get out of the bed to dress.

"There's nothing to explain, Chris." You stared at him, trying to restrain yourself from coming across the room and punching him in the face for acting like an explanation could even justify his actions.

"She meant nothing to me." He started to walk over to you.

“You told her we weren’t together. How is that nothing?”

“It felt like we weren’t. You were so busy.” He tried to touch your arm but you shoved his hand away.

"Don't you dare think about touching me when you were just touching another woman." You looked at him with dark eyes, struggling to fight back the cry. He wasn't worth your tears. "I want you to get out."

"Get out?! Where am I gonna go?"

"I don't know." You shrugged your shoulders. "Maybe you could have thought that through."

He frowned, running his fingers through his hair frustrated. "It doesn't have to be like this. Can't we just talk this out?"

"No!" You shouted at him, making his eyes grow wide. You could tell he wasn't telling this as seriously as you. "I don't want to look at you right now." You turn to leave the room, but he grabs your arms to turn you to face him.

"Please. Look, I can- I can stay on the couch tonight. I'll give you your space and when you're ready we can talk about it. I was wrong for that. I fucked up and I'm sorry." You yanked yourself from his hold.

"You can give me space by leaving. Pack yourself a bag and go."

"I love you, Y/n. I never meant to hurt you."

You shook your head as your eyes wandered over the bed to where they once were before meeting his eyes. "You mean you never meant to get caught."

He sighed before hanging his head in defeat and walking by you to gather up some of his things. You didn't move from your spot. Only stared at the mess of a bed. The place you made love to him while he made love to another. You listened to the front door close behind him on his way out before you finally covered your face, letting the tears fall.

For days, weeks, all you could seem to do was feel sorry for yourself. You couldn't find the strength to get out of bed. No matter how many calls you received, you let them ring through to voicemail. Everything you had felt for him was in ruins. You changed for him. You let yourself grow for him and even that wasn't enough. After all the time you spent picking up after him, cooking, cleaning, planning, staying loyal for crying out loud. You didn't know what else he could of you.

You had called off the wedding in the time you stayed closed up in your apartment. Even took some time off of work to handle it all. You took that time to gather every piece of him scattered around the apartment and packed it up. You wanted to end this as painless as possible aside from the pain you were already feeling. You had thrown away the sheets and replaced them, even get a new comforter and it still didn't feel the same anymore to lay in your bed. You stared at your phone beside you as it lit up for what felt like the hundredth time. You finally sighed, lifting the phone. You knew without even looking at the name it was from him.

You canceled the wedding? It doesn't have to be like this. I still love you, Y/n. You were so busy with work and all the planning. You abandon me. Whenever I wanted your attention, you were always too tired to pay any attention to me.

It's like the girl I fell in love with was gone. Some time ago, you couldn’t keep your hands off of me now it’s like I have to beg you to touch me.

You're being selfish.

You can't be THAT mad, Y/n. I’m a man. I have needs. You were busy and she was willing to help. We can fix this. Don’t give up 3 years. Don’t give up on me.

There were loads more, but you could not care to bother reading the rest. You tossed your phone back down on the bed, rubbing your hands over your face. You didn't owe him anything, not even a response. The girl he was talking about was not gone. She was only on hold to plan a wedding by herself and it was more stressful than he knew. You wanted to forget everything that had happened. You wanted to forget you wasted 3 years of your life planning on growing old with this man.

You weren't sure how you had got this far and with that being said, May wasn't either. You had talked May into joining you to a night out at a club. She needed a night to herself and you needed a break from everything. Along with that, if you had stayed inside that house a moment longer, you might have gone insane.

"You're going to be hammered if you keep on like that." May reminded with a laugh, both of you clinging onto the bar and each other for the extra support. You thanked the bartender as he pushed your last round of shot glasses in front of the two of you.

You smiled, passing a glass to May before keeping one for yourself.

"We can only hope." You winked at the bartender who only chuckled before clinking your shot glass with hers and downing your shot.

Your throat was already numb from all the alcohol you had already numbed it with. May wasn't far behind you. You took your final shot, grinning and pulling May along with you to the dancefloor to get lost in the sea of people. You threw your arms around May's, moving your hips as you both danced to the music.

This was the therapy you needed. Sometimes you had longed for nights like this. You had freedom. You had no worries, aside from worrying who you might wake up beside. But you had fallen in love and even though you had grown up, you had not nearly grown out of this lifestyle. It was all too familiar.

"Hey! I'm going to the bathroom! I'll be back!" May moved closer to you, raising her voice to be heard over the loud music. You nodded, watching her pushing her way through the crowd of people to get to the ladies' bathroom before easing yourself back into your dancing.

You swayed, grinding your hips with the rest of the crowd. You weren't the slightest bit bothered to be dancing by yourself. You used to lose yourself on the dancefloor for hours days after days years ago.

"I've missed this." You heard a familiar voice speak from behind you, startling you when their hands landed on your hips with your sway. They pulled you back against them, catching you off guard. "I've missed you." He mumbled in your ear, sending chills down your spine.

You peaked over your shoulder to make sure your mind was not playing tricks on you. It wasn't. You prayed it was an old one-night stand, but of course, it was the one person you were trying to get away from.

"It doesn't work like that, Chris." You dropped your hands down to his on your hips, trying to push them off your hips but they only hold you tighter. "Get- get off of me." You gritted through your teeth as your eyes glared at him. "Get off!" You raised your voice.

"Now, now, let's not cause a scene. You've had quite a bit to drink haven't you?" He wrapped your arms around your figure, making your blood run cold as his body pressed to yours.

"That's none of your business."

"I'm your fiance. You are my business."

"Ex." You corrected him. His nose flared slightly.

"You really want to go there? You're nothing without me. You're shit-faced in the middle of the club and you can't even accept my help?" He growled and you pushed on his arms.

"I don't need your help."

"You're drunk. You don't know what you need." He spat.

The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted your argument. "I think I've got it from here." You looked up to put a face to the voice, your eyes widening slightly.

"And you are?" Chris didn't budge while staring down Peter as if challenging him.

Peter was reaching his hand out for yours. "Her boyfriend." You stared up at Peter in shock at how much he had changed over the years and he smiled reassuringly.

Chris stiffed slightly and you could feel his eyes burning a hole into you. "Is that true?"

You didn't take your eyes off of Peter, taking a hold of his hand and letting him pull you out of Chris's arms. "Yes." Your voice was hushed.

Chris scowled. "Wow. I wish you luck there, man. She's a real catch." He laughed, making you look down. You couldn't believe he was really trying to ruin your night when he had already ruined everything else.

Peter only snaked his arm around your waist, letting his hand settle on your hip while his eyes never left Chris's. "She certainly is." He agreed. He gave your body a warm squeeze, grabbing you closer into his embrace. "Now, if you'll excuse us."

With that, he guided you through the crowd off of the dance floor.

"You okay?" He finally broke the silence once he got you back to the bar, sitting you down on one of the stools.

You nodded, letting your eyes wander up to him as he motioned the bartender over. "I'm just curious as to why you're here right now. Aren't you supposed to be in college?"

He smiled as he pulled out his wallet to pay your tab and you grabbed his hand, shaking your head. "No, no. I can pay for my own."

"What if I insist?"

"You don't have to, honestly. I have money."

You started to reach into your purse for some cash but Peter covered your hand, giving you another reassuring smile.

"You'll have plenty of other times to pay. I'll get it this time." He reminded you and you sighed in defeat, giving him a playful scowl. He only grinned, proceeding to pull some cash from his wallet to give to the bartender.

"You didn't answer my question." You continued as he turned back to you.

"I'm still college. I just sometimes stay with Aunt May on the weekends."

"And you just so happened to be here?"

Peter chuckled, pointing in May's direction as she stumbled over her feet returning back to the two of us. "Aunt May called."

You raised your eyebrow, looking over at May as she stood beside you now. "You called Peter?"

"Someone has to get you back home." She reminded you and you hit her arm slightly, tilting your head.

"May, I could have got a taxi or an uber. You didn't have to call him for me." You scowled at her and she shook her head in a tsking manner.

"No, no, no. I called Peter so I can rest assured you got home safely and not by some random stranger."

You rolled your eyes slightly and Peter butted in with an awkward chuckle. "I really don't mind. I don't consider this anything out of the way. I'd rather it be me than some stranger or someone." He noticed him giving the floor a swift scan around the three of you.

"Fine." You pouted your bottom lip slightly before rising from your seat at the bar. "You guys make me feel irresponsible or something." You grabbed a hold of May's arm and pulling her with you to the exit of the club while Peter followed behind the two of you.

"Are you coming?" You muttered over to May and she shook her head.

"Happy is here." Just as the words left her mouth when you started out the door, you spotted Happy parked in front of the building to pick up May. "Peter isn't too bad of a driver." You stopped in front of Happy's car.

"Oh goody, rest secured." You muttered and she laughed. Your arms looped around May's neck, hugging her tight. "I'm so glad to have you back. Message me when you get home." You told her and Happy a quick goodnight before letting her go.

Peter led you over to his car, unlocking the car and opening the passenger side for you. You settled comfortably in the front seat, leaning your head back against the headrest. You didn't like how it felt as if you couldn't take care of yourself, but you were in no position to complain when Peter Parker had yet again saved the day.

Peter glanced over at you in the passenger seat from time to time as he drove the distance to your apartment. He tried to keep the glances quick to keep you from noticing. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. It had been years since he had actually seen you, but you seemed like the Y/n he still remembered. Not that it was anything bad. He adored you then, and now a bit more.

He had always had the hots for you for as long as you remembered. Of course, you never minded when you ended up staying with him and Aunt May. You were always kind to Peter and he did his best to nurse you back to health to take on the hangover that awaited you the next morning.

He had never forgotten what you said to him one day while you were sick from the night before. You had been clinging onto the toilet and he had taken the opportunity to hold your hair back out of your face to keep from getting anything in it.

You sighed as he rubbed your back in soothing circles. You leaned against the toilet miserably. That was the day you learned to stay away from tequila.

"I hope I meet a guy at least half as amazing as you someday, Peter."

No doubt did the compliment find its way to his cheeks. He blushed a deep shade of red. He tried to restrain himself from making a big deal but it was a big deal to him. Though he knew he didn't stand a chance right now with his age, it meant if he had been of age, he had a chance. He thought about it even when you had stopped coming around so much. He knew this was all a coping method for you. You were hurting then and he could tell by the way you seemed toward the guy back there that there was more to that counter.

He noticed your shiver as you stared out the window. You mentally cursed yourself for wearing something this revealing. You rubbed your arms to try to warm yourself a little. Peter reached behind him in the back seat to retrieve a hoodie of his he always forgot in the car and handing it to you.

"Here." He offered before fumbling with the heat in the car. He smiled at your quiet thank you, putting your arms in the hoodie and pulling it close for warmth with putting it all the way on. He tried to control the big grin threatening to break across his face.

"I'm sorry you had to keep seeing me like this." You looked over at Peter as he kept his eyes on the road. He didn't realize how thankful you were for him in times like this. It was embarrassing how many times this had happened but you were still thankful Peter didn't think any less of you.

"You really don’t have to apologize.” He smiled at her before turning his attention back to the road.

“I really do though. I feel like you’ve taken care of me enough. I’m grown, you know? It should be the other way around.” You giggled and Peter glanced over at you.

“I’m 21.” He reminded you.

“And I’m pushing 30.”

“You’re 28. You’re still young.” He chuckled.

“Almost 29!” You huffed as he pulled into the parking lot to your apartment. “My point is- you know what my point is.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at your frustration. Your age didn’t matter to him. He could always settle for his MJ, his best friend, but seeing you tonight relit the flame to his crush for you. There was just something about you.

He parked the car in the parking lot, walking around to your side to open the door for you. You slid your arms out of his hoodie and leaving it in the seat as he helped you out of the car. You could feel the shots hitting you all at once when you stood. You stumbled out in your heels, grabbing onto Peter’s arms for support.

“Easy now.” He held onto your waist as he guided you to your apartment, asking for your keys. He took your keys when you dug them out of your pocket, letting you in your apartment.

You couldn’t help but notice all the little things he did for you. You kicked off your heels at the door, stumbling over your own two feet again as you wandered down the hallway to your bedroom. You could hear Peter in the kitchen getting you a bottle of water from the fridge along with some medicine from the medicine cabinet.

You sat on the bed when you hear his footsteps coming down the hallway toward the bedroom. You looked up at him, pouting your bottom lip out slightly when you saw him with a bottle of water and medicine for the headache to come.

He set them down on your nightstand, noticing your pout. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Peter, you’re seriously too good to me.” You sighed.

“How’s that?” He looked down at you as he towered over you.

You motioned over to the stuff he had placed on your nightstand and frowning. “All of this. You- you really didn’t have to do this for me.”

“You’re right I don’t. But I want to. I would want it done for me if I were ever in your shoes.”

You laughed slightly at the thought of Peter drunk and you smiled to yourself. “I would definitely be there anytime you needed me.”

You thought back to all the time you had ever been drunk, remembering all the time you woke up to water and medicine from him. Only from him. Even a trash can in case you were to ever get sick, but you never got that with Chris. You always took care of him, but no one ever took care of you. You shook your head with a frown. You had tried so hard to hold it together, but it felt like you were slowly falling apart. He wasn't worth your tears, yet he was always the cause of them.

He kneeled down in front of you, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Talk to me. Everything okay?”

You couldn’t stop the words from coming out. “Why am I never enough?”

His eyes widened at your words. “You are more than enough and anyone who doesn’t see that, who doesn’t appreciate you and the things you do for them doesn’t deserve you.” He corrected you, his thumb stroked over your jaw as he held your face to keep your attention.

You didn't know what to say. All you could do was stare. Your eyes scanned over his face before stopping at his lips. Don't. Don't you do it. You mentally told yourself. You couldn't control the effect the alcohol had on your mind and your actions. You tried to fight back the urge but the alcohol only pushed down the buriers you had built.

Your lips smashed against his firmly, catching him by surprise. He was frozen about your lips for a first, in shock, this was actually happening but he surely gave in the kiss. Your hands grabbed at the back of his neck and pulling him onto the bed with you without breaking the hungry desperate kiss. His body hovered over yours as your fingers curled against his shirt, gripping on it. You knew it was wrong. It was so wrong, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

Your smaller hands slid underneath his shirt, brushing your hands over his defined abs. He was sculpted by a God. He knew he should stop, but he couldn't find it in him to stop. He didn't want to miss his chance to prove himself to you. He wanted to take care of you.

Your lips parted for air even though you left like you could hardly catch your breath when his lips started to kiss down your neck. Your hands tugged on his shirt until you started to pull it up and over your head.

His hands pushed your tight dress up the curves of your body, tossing it beside the bed once he peeled it from your body. Your lips still tingled from the loss of his and you whined quietly, your hand grasped the curls at the nape of his neck to bring his lips back to yours.

He kissed your lips passionately and letting your lips mold together. He could taste the alcohol on your tongue but it didn't bother him any. He had dreamed of this moment since he was a teen. Your fingers worked desperately to undo his jeans, feeling his bulge already through his pants before your hands pushed his pants off of his hips along with your boxers.

You were so desperate. You couldn't stop the whine that escaped against his lips. "Peter, please..." His cock twitched at the sound of his name falling from your lips.

He dragged your panties down your legs swiftly, placing himself back between them when he spread them open again. He peppered light kisses to your lips as he dragged the tip of precum-coated tip through your folds, not wasting any time to give you what you wanted.

You cried out as you clung to Peter's bareback, feeling his cock stretching you in all the ways you craved. You moaned out, letting him swallow them in a kiss as his hips rolled into yours again and again. He sighed in pleasure against your lips as your walls invited him in. You were even better than he could have imagined.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening. His lips covered your body in his kisses, admiring every part of your body as it sang for him. This was nothing like what you used to. He pressed small kisses against your bottom lip, nibbling on it as your core ached with a building climax. Your legs wrapped around his hips, causing you to gasp at the deeper strokes.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a loud moan drawing from your parted lips. Your fingers held onto Peter's hair as he hit that spot over and over, making your eyes roll slightly. You needed so badly for him to stop, but you couldn't bring the words to the surface.

"Oh my god..." Your core tightened with every deep thrust. His cock touched parts of you no guy had ever. You had never felt a climax so fast or so strong. "Please don't stop..." You couldn't fight the words from coming out. Your grip tightened on his dark hair, feeling yourself falling apart with an orgasm with every thrust.

"You're so pretty when you cum." He couldn't stop even if he wanted to. He was not far behind you by the way your walls sucked him in, milking him for all he was worth.

"Do it again. I want to make you cum again." He groaned against your chest as his tongue dragged over your hardened nipple, flicking his tongue against it teasingly before letting out a groan against your warm skin. He didn't want it to stop. He didn't want it to end. "You feel so good, Y/n..."

His hand reached between the two of you, rolling his fingers over your clit in circles. You gripped onto his wrist at the overpowering feeling. You were soaked to the core. This man made you crumble.

"I-I'm gonna cum.." His voice cracked slightly as your walls clenched around him tight In your second orgasm, pushing him over the edge into his first. His cum filled you full, marking you as he pressed delicate kisses across your neck while praising you in the process. "So beautiful, so perfect."

Your eyes were heavy with exhaustion, smiling to yourself when Peter laid down on the bed behind you. He wrapped an arm around your body, pulling you back against his chest.

It only took a matter of seconds for sleep to claim you as Peter pulled a blanket over the both of you tiredly. It was only a matter of time before the morning came to rain on your parade. Bringing along the guilt and regret that followed.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark!marvel #tom holland fan fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker #dub con #peter parker one shot #dark!tom holland

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agirlwhoisaphantom · 3 years

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Shades of Winter - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You finally get to meet James Bucky Barnes. You two are an instant click but would this eventually lead to something good or something bad?

Word Count: 3140

Warnings: The reader talks about past memories such as: kidnapping, torture, starvation, violence. A bit of angst. Also If you like the Hobbit movies, I'm so sorry (yes this is tw) Also if there is anything else let me know.

Author’s Note: A little bit more in-depth on who y/n is in my Bucky fics. Other than that this has been in my archives for a hot minute so.

reblogs/feedback/likes are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! But please, DO NOT repost/steal ANY of my fics!

It has been a couple of years since you returned to the Avengers Quarters. You had been on the run before the blipped happened. But you have finally told yourself that enough is enough. You always knew that the Avengers would be your family, so you decided to go back to them.

The first person you were excited to see after a while was Sam. So, you decided to go to his hometown and give him a visit.

When you arrived, you notice that there was a party. You felt a little bit left out. But you pushed those feelings aside since Sam didn’t know that you were coming along as well.

Once you laid your eyes on Sam, you knew that you needed to sneak up on him and scare him.

There was loud music playing in the background, so you took that as an advantage. You quietly sneak up to Sam, getting on your toes as you try to cover his eyes.

Sam turns around, putting up his guard. When he notices that you tried to sneak up on him, you could see the relief on his face. He didn’t think twice but to hug you. “Where have you been? You go incognito mode and don’t visit me. I’ve been worried about you.”

You hug him back, “I just needed a break from the world and traveled a bit.” You chuckled a little bit. “But I’m back and better than ever.”

He starts to ramble as you two catch each other up on everything that has happened the past couple of years. You two start to walk up to the docks. You notice how beautiful it was with the sun setting how the sun reflected on the water. You were amazed.

“Hey, I’ll be back. Do you want anything to eat?” Sam pointed to the table that had nothing but plates of food in it. Your small smiled formed on your face as you shook your head.

Walking around, you notice so many little kids running around and having fun. It was such a positive place to be. You could feel the aura around you just filled with joy.

Without noticing where you were walking, you bump into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t-“ you look back at him. The first thing that you noticed was his ocean blue eyes. You could stare at those eyes for hours.

Breaking the eye contact, you took a few steps back so that you wouldn’t be close to him anymore. “I’m Bucky.” He places his hands in the pockets of his black jean jacket. There was a smirk on his face.

“uh, y/n” you had a confused smile on your face.

“y/n,” Bucky says in a deep flirty tone of voice, he looks around, and that smirk became a smile. “I’ll see you around y/n,” he winked as he walked away.

Why did your name sound so much better when he said it. Something about him made you curious. You were on the fence if whether or not you wanted to know more about him or just let him be a mystery. But either way, you knew the moment you bumped into him, Bucky was going to become a trouble.

During the blip, when you helped, there would be moments that Steve would tell stories of Bucky when they were younger. In those stories, Steve would describe him as the most caring friend and always attached to a book such as The Hobbit.

Throughout the day, you would occasionally interact with Bucky. He would ask you random questions such as what your favorite color was? What flowers did you like? He wanted to get to know you.

“So, you are telling me that I should watch the movies and how there are three of them.” Bucky takes a sip of his drink.

You chuckled a little bit “yes, I like the book versions better. But it’s so nice seeing them come to life.”

“I’ll make a note of that, Doll.”

Going back home, you never expected to talk to Bucky again. You didn't have any of his contact information either way, and he didn't have yours.

A couple of days pass by when you receive a message from an unknown number.

10:38 AM "hey there, are you busy this afternoon?"

You decided to ignore the message; it might have been sent to someone else instead of you.

10:45 AM "shit, sorry, It's Bucky."

The moment that you read that, it was Bucky that sent you that message. You wondered how he got your number. Could it have been Steve? Sam? Nat? That gave him your number.

These thoughts were running through your head and were interrupted by that number calling you.

"So, are you busy this afternoon?"

"No, Hi, how are you? How is life? Just going right to asking me what I'm doing this afternoon, what a great start James." You said in an annoying tone of voice.

"Hi, Doll. How are you? There is that better," he said in a mocking voice. Even though you couldn't see him, you could tell that he was rolling his eyes.

You wanted to hang up, but a part of you didn't want to do it. "So much better, thank you." You said sarcastically. "I'm doing nothing later. I'm probably just going to go home and make some dinner."

"You can always say no. But I just bought the three Hobbit movies, and I wondered if you wanted to watch them with me? And Tony is throwing a party tomorrow, and I thought if you wanted to go."

This took you by surprise, it hasn't been an entire week of knowing him, and he is already asking you over to his apartment. "Yeah, that would be fun," you said once again sarcastically. You didn't mean to sound it like that.

When you agreed that you would watch the series with him and to the party, a part of you knew that you had done something you might regret in the long run, but the other part you wanted to see where this would take you, and you wanted to explore it. Something about him made you curious, and you wanted to know why. Why, out of all the people that you had met, he is the one that sparks curiosity in you.

Once again, these thoughts are interrupted by him "I didn't hear a no, so I'm assuming you said yes. I'll send you my address. Meet me here in two hours." He hangs up.

Two hours pass by, and you were unsure what to bring, so you brought a couple of snacks. Walking into Bucky's apartment, there weren't many decorations. It seemed like he had just moved in. There wasn't much besides a small sofa and a tv. It was a very dark place with little to no light coming through.

Bucky notices that you were looking around "sorry if I had more time, I would have cleaned a bit better."

Your eyes widen as you were confused. You look around once again. His place was way cleaner than what your apartment looked like. "you consider this dirty. You should see mine" Bucky goes near the light switch and turns on the lights of the kitchen.

The instant he turned on the lights, that's when you notice what he was wearing. He was wearing a white muscle shirt with a pair of gym shorts, and his hair was messy, and you were able to tell that he had a couple of curls.

If heart eyes were a thing, you would have had them at this exact moment. Bucky was way more handsome than he was when you first met him. As the thoughts continued through your head, you knew that you needed to stop them before you ended up drooling over him.

He points to his bedroom. "I'm going to go change. I have to hide this." He was referring to his left arm. He wasn't sure how you would react to it, and he thought that he should have worn something to cover it before you decided to show up.

You grab the wrist of his metal arm. "It's okay. I don't mind. Besides that, I think it makes you more attractive" the moment that the word attractive escaped your mouth, you could feel your cheeks turn red and your body heat rise. Why did you say that? Especially towards him. Your mind was full of regrets, but at the same time, you didn't care because he was truly attractive.

Bucky covers his mouth with his right hand, trying to cover his laugh. You playfully hit his arm "this isn't funny, Bucky. I'm so close to turning around and making you watch the Hobbit alone." You crossed your arms together. You were getting annoyed with him. All you wanted to do was come over and watch movies with him.

"Fine, I'll stop. But it doesn't mean that I'm not going to hold this against you." Bucky chuckled.

Bucky goes to his bedroom, brings a blanket, and tries to ensure that his place can be as cosey as possible, even though it was dark.

Halfway through the third movie, you could see that he was extremely disappointed. If he could rate the movie, you would 100% be sure he would give it a -1000 rate. "Why the fuck did Peter tell me that these were great. They are complete garbage" Bucky raises his voice. Deep down, he did enjoy the movies. He just wanted to see a reaction out of you. But you were calm since this was your 5th time watching these films.

You couldn't help but laugh at how disappointed Bucky was. He turns to face you and notices the face of amusement you had on "this isn't a joke, Doll. I thought they would be great." He rolls his eyes.

When the movie ended, he put on the sports channel and started to watch it. As much as you loved watching sports, you slowly went to sleep. You felt comfortable around him. It had only been a couple of days that you had met him, so you found it odd.

You fell asleep on his right shoulder. When Bucky felt that you placed your head on his shoulder, a small smile formed on his face, he was unsure why he felt comfortable with you. But he knows that you were going to be one heck of trouble from now on.

Bucky looks at you and notices that you were fast asleep. He can't help but to carry you in his arms and take you to his bed. He made sure to tuck you in.

After he tucked you in, he went back to the living room and continued to watch his sports.

------------------

Around midnight, you woke up. Not because you had a nightmare, but because you felt like you were in an unknown location. As soon as you woke up, you panicked and started to look around. You immediately went into fight or flight mode in case If you were in danger. Walking outside of the bedroom, you notice Bucky was sleeping on the floor.

Seeing him on the floor, you drastically put your guard down. You sighed in relief that you were with him and no one else. You go into the kitchen to grab a mug to make yourself tea. When you prepared your tea, you went back to Bucky's bedroom and opened the window outside to let some fresh air in. You wrapped yourself with the blanket Bucky gave you, and you held your knees up to your chest as you drank from the mug.

This was the first time you had ever woken up without having a nightmare. You wondered why was it because of Bucky? As your thoughts were running, you could hear someone come into the room. You turn around and notice it was Bucky. "Someone is up early." He chuckled.

A smile formed on your face. "It looks like you are up early too" you rolled your eyes.

There was silence between you and him. You hated being silent, but with him, you didn't mind.

"Is everything alright?" Bucky whispered. You turn your head towards him, and you nodded. "you can tell me anything, you know." He places his hand on your shoulder.

You lift your eyebrows, unsure if he was messing around with you. "I just met you, like yesterday. Why would I-"

"Five days ago, to be exacted." He said in a snarky tone of voice as he interrupted you.

"Fine, you want to know.” You looked away from him because you knew you would start being vulnerable, and you didn't want to see Bucky's reaction or what face he was making. “For the longest time, I've had nightmares back-to-back. But oddly enough, tonight I didn't have any."

"if you don't mind me asking," Bucky takes a big gulp before saying anything. He knew that you were a bit uncomfortable, and he didn't want to push you. "Why do you have nightmares?" "I used to have them constantly because of who I was. It took me time to understand that the winter soldier wasn't me, and jeez, till this day, there would be moments where I doubt myself, but I'm getting better."

Hearing him tell you a little bit of himself made you feel more at ease. You take a big breath before you start telling him why you would have these nightmares. "At a very young age, both of my parents were killed. My brother died as well, trying to protect us. One of the Hydra agents forcefully made me go to one of their camps. I fought for the first couple of months, trying to get out. But eventually, I gave up. I thought they provided me a roof to stay under, and even though they barely fed me, I was somewhat grateful. I could have it worse. They taught me how to fight, how to hold a gun, etc. When I was a teen, I was tortured, starved more than before, and experimented on."

He grabs your hand and tries his best to comfort you. He knew that this was a lot for you to tell him. "They wanted to see if they could make me into a mutant but with every little alternation of genetics. Nothing worked. Even if it did, I didn't want them to know about it. At that point, I just was numb; I didn't want to live anymore. So I let things happen to me. Hoping one day my body just gave up. Till this day, some of those things that they did I don't remember, nor I want to." You take a small pause as you heard yourself. You felt so comfortable telling him about your past.

Your voice started to crack as you thought more about your past. You tried your best not to cry. "After I escaped, I moved to Washington, Nat found me there, and I started to work at SHIELD. Nat was the only person that knew me and helped me get better."

Bucky was unsure how to react to what you had just told him. He had mixed emotions. He didn't know why he felt anger, sadness, grief, and disappointing feelings towards you. But he knew that it took you a lot of courage to tell him all of these things. He sits on the floor next to you and hugs you. The second that he hugged you, you couldn't help but cry. He was the second person to know your story. "I'm sorry, Bucky. I shouldn't have told you. You've been through much worse, and I wish you didn't-"

"Doll, don't apologize. None of this was your fault. I'm glad that you told me. We both didn't deserve anything of that." he held you for a couple of more minutes and let you cry. He wanted to tell you more, that he was glad that you left when you had the chance. That he hated that you were in that position, he wanted to comfort you. He couldn't find the words. So all he did was hold you.

After a couple of minutes, you were grateful that he listened to every word you said. But you were mentally exhausted, and you just wanted to go to bed. You got up and placed the cup on the nightstand, and started to get ready to leave. When Bucky grabs your arm, "stay the night, it's already late enough to walk around." His voice was small and a bit shaky. "You can stay in my bed, and I can sleep on the floor. Please stay."

You agreed to stay the night with him, and he goes to his closet and grabs you some clothes to sleep comfortably. They fit all baggy on you, but you didn't care. You didn't want to sleep uncomfortably. The moment you got out of the bathroom, Bucky chuckled as he looked how big his clothes looked on you. You ended up rolling your eyes.

Bucky laid on the floor next to his bed. As you were closing your eyes, you felt some guilt, so you look to where Bucky was lying. "Buck, come up here." You whispered.

"Nah, I'm comfortable sleeping on the floor." He turns around, facing away from you.

You grab a pillow and throw it to him "well, I'm not. So get your ass up here before I drag you."

"I would like to see you try, Doll." He chuckled. Once again, you threw another pillow at him, accidentally hitting his head. "Fine, I'm going." He grunted.

Lucky enough Bucky had a queen bed. So you had enough room for yourself and him. "One thing, don't invade my bubble, and we won't end up fighting. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go to sleep."

Within minutes you two were in a deep sleep.

-------------------------

When you two finally arrived at Tony’s Party. Bucky couldn’t help but be curious about what was happening between the two of you.

He couldn’t help it anymore. He decided to ask you, “So, what are we?”

“What do you mean what are we, Bucky?” there was a confused smile on your face.

“yeah, like are we friends, or I don’t know?” he nervously laughed, unsure if he should be asking this.

You laughed a little “Friends is a bit too much. I don’t think we are there yet.” You teased him. You gently punched his arm.

“Are we acquaintances?”

“I like that. We are for sure acquaintances.” You chuckled.

“you think it’s funny, but I can live with that, Doll.” He shrugs his shoulders.

And just like that, two strangers who never planned on caring for one another became the most inseparable pair.

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bangtanpromptsfics · 3 years

Text

anemone.

dialogue prompt #5: “We are not getting married!”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: established relationship, angst

word count: 1,173

warnings: none

summary: you go for vacation at las vegas with your boyfriend and the boys and some haywire was well expected, but it's much crazier than you thought.

a/n: another angst oneshot!! I will start writing taehyung x reader soon. my friend chooses these prompts for me!! this is lowkey inspired from the sitcom, friends :)

masterlist

“We are not getting married!”, you groan, hands clutching your skull, “especially in Vegas and definitely not like this!”.

You knew shit was about to go down the moment Namjoon planned this trip, especially a full night at the casinos. Your wildest guess was one of them going naked in public, but it's worse. Jungkook proposed to you. Out of fucking thin air. In a bar. While he's drunk.

Anything but this.

“Baby why!?”, your boyfriend slurs. You snatch the glass of booze from him before he loses more of his mind.

“You are not in your right mind Jungkook”.

He ends up being a little grumpy at your answers. The boys were in their own worlds of being drunk. Jimin had passed out on the reception couch an hour ago. So basically there isn't anyone else to hammer sense into Jungkook’s brain. And you can't help but grow anxious.

Even though Jungkook is saying this out of a hazy mind, you can't help but wonder if he had been thinking about this.

To begin with, Jungkook wasn't your fiance. But you were indeed in a very serious relationship for the past five years. If Jungkook has to propose to you someday, you would be affirmative of course, but does he think about this when he is sober?

“You don't love me?”, he asks, trying to fill up his glass which you stop by placing a palm over it.

“Jungkook… I do love you. But please understand baby you are not in your right mind. We'll… we'll talk about this later okay? Let's just get back to hotel”. You take hold of his arm but he yanks it away.

“No! You said you don't want to marry me!”. His eyes are glistening. Does he think you wouldn't want to be his wife? Does he think you don't see a future with him? It scares you now. Of course the day at the altar when he stands there in a tux and vows to be your husband would be the best day of your life without doubt. But now you feel the more you oppress, the more insecure you are making him.

You had been anxious all these while. So you try to breathe before talking again.

“Let's go back and talk okay? ”, you say softly but you don't touch him because he is distancing from you.

“Thank God you guys are here— woah what's up with Kook?”, Namjoon barges in, the only slightly sober one left. Thank fuck.

“He had way too many shots. Joon will you help me get him back to our hotel room? ”

“Sure”.

Jungkook doesn't bat a lash at you the entire drive, and the same goes on at the hotel. He throws his jacket somewhere on the floor and plops straight into the bed.

“Kookie… are you mad? ”, you ask softly, standing at his end of bed. He doesn't answer again and turns around showing you his back.

So you nudge on his shoulder very lightly and that's when it hits you that he's crying.

“Kookie it's not what you think baby!” you rush, trying to touch him more, but he moves away.

After several attempts of trying to get his attention, you see him falling into slumber so you let him be. But now you sit with a very heavy chest. It takes several hours for you to fall asleep, and eventually you do.

Jungkook stirs, trying to get his throbbing head in control. Burying his head in pillows several times, he later realizes the space beside him is empty. And it's cold too, meaning you had been awake for a while.

When he sees you come into the room from the shower he smiles.

He definitely doesn't remember.

And now you don't know if you should bring this up or not.

“Fuck my eyes hurt so fucking much”, he groans, rubbing them aggressively before looking into the vanity mirror in front of the bed, “Shit, it's so swollen, was I crying last night?”.

You turn around, caught with your words. And he notices that your eyes are puffed too.

Fear in him grows as he gets out of bed immediately and approaches to cup your face, “Babe tell me what happened last night”, he demands. From the looks of it all he could comprehend he pulled some sick shit. The last thing he remembers is discussing about taking shots with Taehyung.

“Babe please tell me. If I had hurt you I'm so sorry. I swear I don't remember anything”.

“You… you proposed t-to me last night”, you say. Head low and shaky breath.

Jungkook freezes on spot, his hands coming down from your cheeks.

“And… and… what did you say? ”. He takes a few steps back because he doesn't know how to act. It was his mistake in the first place. But he fears something else.

“I said no”, you whisper. Fuck yesterday's incident was still hurting too much to be able to speak.

“I-I understand…”, he trails off.

“Baby it's not what you think! I said no because you were not in your right mind. Things like this are a big decision and I want you to be fully aware what you're doing. Please understand. I do see a future with you Jungkook. It's my dream I promise”. And with that you breakdown.

He is quick to wrap you inside his embrace. He feels so warm.

“I'm sorry I put you through it love. I'm never drinking again God”.

“And you said I don't love you”, you pout, finally looking up at him.

He wants to slap himself for saying bullshit. He is perfectly aware how strong you feel for him and never in million years he would question that. Good luck Jeon, you stoned yourself and went ahead and said it anyway.

He doesn't have a good apology for all this, so he kisses you instead. You gladly part lips for him, and he makes sure to give it to you just the way you like, slight sucking at the lips.

“I'm so sorry Y/n...I didn't mean a word of it”.

“It's alright”, you smile, finally feeling ease. You plant slow kisses on his mouth for a few minutes, stopping when Jungkook comes to say something.

“I-I just want to say Y/n, when such a day comes… I'll respect your decision… whatever it is”, he swallows a lump down.

Though he says it, he knows it'll break his heart if you said no. He had been deciding upon rings for the past months with Taehyung. He has it safe in the pocket of his tux inside the closet behind you. He is so prepared. It kills him to know he accidentally drained his own hardwork.

“Shut up Kook. Don't think a lot about it alright?”. You smile, so that he does too, “Forget about it and kiss me now”, you grab his collar, pulling him close. Warmth of his breath close to your forehead.

“Fuck I love you so much baby”.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptfics

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julyarchives · 3 years

Text

Baby, pull me closer || (M)

If you had ever believed in soulmates, it was because of Jo Jinho. When you were just hanging out at a bar with a few coworkers on a Friday night, the last thing you expected was to be confronted with your past.

→ A/n: Jinho x Female Reader

→ Genre: Angst; Smut

→ Words: 3K

→ Contains: Exes to Lovers; some angst; Talk about feelings; Break up.

→ A/n: We might have gotten carried away with the word count 😅 but we hope we could live up to the request! Thank you again for the anon who did it! We hope you all like it 🥰

If you had ever believed in soulmates, it was because of Jo Jinho. You two met in High School and were inseparable since day 1. He was your prince charming, the love of your life, your ride or die. Your life with him was a fairytale, and you caught yourself wondering so many times how lucky you were to have him in your life. You two worked hard to get into the same college and the time you spent there only made your connection stronger, and you knew it in you that you were his forever.

Which only made the break up more painful.

When you were offered the scholarship of your dreams, your first instinct was to go running to him and share the news, so you could celebrate together. But it was only seconds later that you stopped to think about everything that it would implicate. Jinho’s dream job required him to stay in the city and you would never want to be the person to make him give up everything for a relationship. You were selfish enough to put your goals first, but not selfish enough to rip him out of his.

So, after a lot of thinking, you made the most excruciating decision of your life.

“What do you mean? You can’t possibly be serious. You’re joking, right?” Jinho asked, voice trembling and tears pooling in the corner of his eyes.

The lump in your throat almost took your voice away, but you quickly swallowed it, convincing yourself that this was the only right decision.

“I told you, Jinho, I just don’t feel anything anymore. This relationship won’t work if I’m not in love with you. You deserve better, and it’s best if we break up now so you don’t get any more hurt. I don’t want to hurt you, Jinho.”

“Y/N, please” His tears fell freely now. He held you close by the waist, fists curling around the hem of your shirt “Please, don’t say this. I don’t believe you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, and you closed your eyes, trying -and failing - to hold back your own tears.

“Please” he whispered

His lips grazed against yours and you let him kiss you, tasting the salty tears that were completely unrestrained by now.

“I’m sorry” was the last thing you whispered before leaving without looking back. Completely heartbroken at the sound of him calling your name in between sobs.

That’s why when you hear his voice calling your name again, almost 2 years later, you almost couldn’t believe your ears.

You were just hanging out at a bar with a few coworkers on a Friday night, the last thing you expected was to be confronted with your past.

“Jinho?” you turned around, knowing who you would see.

You always thought Jinho was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and it is not like you haven’t checked his social media after the break up, but nothing had prepared you for the way he looked in front of you.

So much had passed, so obviously he looked way more mature than the last time you actually saw him in person, with traces you couldn’t see over a photo, but adorned his face like it had always been there, and only complemented his charming self.

The suit and glasses added to it as well, but what made your heart stop was the smile. It was like traveling back in time, to when you could see him everyday in comfortable sweatpants and loose T-shirts, playing guitar by the window of his apartment, the golden dawn light shimmering on his skin.

Your daze was broken as he approached and you tried to find anything to say at all, but it felt like you forgot each and every word in your own language.

“Hey” was all that came out of you, and you cursed yourself mentally for being a grown ass woman acting like a teenager again.

"I did not expect to see you here." he said, a confused look on his face

"Yeah, I live here now." You offered a smile, but you were actually nervous thinking how living in this city is basically what broke you two up.

"Nice to know I'll have a familiar face around! I got a job here now, I just moved in"

"Really?" You were surprised "congratulations on the new job"

"Thank you" He smiled in return, eyes turning into crescent moons "since we're here, would you like to grab something to drink? I would love to catch up with you"

You always thought of getting in touch with Jinho over the years. Every time you thought of him or checked him online, you thought of texting. What actually stopped you was the thought that what you did was unforgivable and he probably hated you after you ignored the many times he tried to reach you after you told him you wanted to break up. The last time you saw each other was when you went to return his stuff, and get yours' from him, and that did not go well. You two barely looked at each other and you don't ever remember saying anything, but you couldn't forget how heartbroken he was.

It threw you completely off guard when invited you to catch up because you expected him to hate your guts. But then again, it was a long time ago, he probably was over it, like you were. At least you thought so.

"Sure, why not?" You answered shyly.

He led you both to a table while your coworkers grinned at you, and you silently shushed them.

The conversation started a little awkward, both of you walking on eggshells to avoid the "ex" subject. You caught up eventually, and you were glad to know that he actually achieved the job he always wanted and was very focused on his career, and he was happy to know that the same happened to you.

Before you two realized, the conversation was flowing easily, and you were laughing together and messing with each other, feeling like nothing actually changed between you two. The connection was still there and you honestly felt happy about it.

When the bartender warned about the last call Jinho offered to share a cab home with you because it was already late, and you gladly accepted it, just so you could stretch the time spent with him.

"I'm glad we ran into each other" he said like he could read your thoughts.

"Me too, I'm having a lot of fun." You admitted, you two reaching the front door of your house.

"I gotta be honest, though, I thought we wouldn't see each other again." He said with a half-smile "the way that things happened with us…"

"Yeah, I know…" you gently interrupted, too embarrassed to bring that up "But I'm happy to see you, really. I didn't even see the time passing."

"Right?" He agreed "it ended too fast."

"I might have a bottle of wine we can open if you would like to come in" your mouth ran faster than your brain, and you felt really stupid for asking that like you were pushing some kind of limit there.

You felt a little more comfortable when he didn't take long to make up his mind and accepted your invitation.

You entered your house and kicked your heels off to the side while you heard Jinho closing the door behind himself.

Out of a sudden, you felt too shy to look at him, so you kept yourself busy with other stuff.

You tried to take your coat off, but the collar got caught in your necklace's chain, and you simply couldn't undo it yourself.

"Here, let me." Jinho promptly helped, gently untangling it.

He went further and pushed the coat off of your shoulders delicately, his fingers grazing on your bare skin exposed from your sleeveless dress. His knuckles ran all the way down your arms and you were too aware of his body next to yours, goosebumps rising on your skin when his warm breath hit the back of your neck.

"Please tell me you don't have a boyfriend." He whispered, his fingers grazing on your waist while he stood behind you.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you knew the implications of that question. You also knew that what he was suggesting, you wanted just as much.

"No, I don't." Your voice was just a barely audible whisper

You almost couldn't finish your sentence when his grasp on your waist tightened and he spun you around, pulling you closer to him, chest to chest, and his lips didn't hesitate to find yours.

Your body reciprocated him in a reflex that comes with a habit, like you never were not used to having him holding you like that.

The kiss was hungry and desperate, your hand messing his hair while he explored every new curve of your body, grasping for any skin he could find.

Jinho pressed you against the wall, trapping you in between the surface and his body. He wrapped one hand around your leg, lifting it up and squeezing up the hem of your dress, his kisses trailing down your neck.

"Fuck, I wanted to do this since I first laid eyes on you." He whispered against your ear before sucking a spot just under it.

All you could answer was a breathy moan, leaning your body to press harder against him.

You took your time exploring his body and couldn't help but notice that his muscles grew stronger as you grazed your nails on his toned chest.

He grinded his hips forward, and you could already feel a semi-hard growing in his pants, the thought of it making you clench in anticipation.

You chased after his lips again, never having enough of it, nibbling at the plump bottom lip that you always loved

"Bedroom?" You whispered in between kisses, your breath already heavy.

Jinho only nodded eagerly, and you held his hand while walking down the hall.

As soon as he figured out the way he was all over you again, backing you up until the back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and he didn't stop kissing you as you both settled on the soft mattress, every touch of his was very rough and commanding.

He kneeled up and you watched him discard his shirt carelessly, the sight making your mouth water. You bit your bottom lip, admiring his body, and he smirks proudly.

Next thing you know he's grabbing you by the hips and pulling you closer to him, making you slide down the sheets and yelp in surprise.

"You've changed" you addressed his manhandling with a naughty tone to it.

"You have no idea" his husky voice hit your ears like music, a tone as mischievous as the grin on his lips.

He pulled your dress up, off of your body, and you followed his lead without hesitating. Your panties were next and soon enough your hands were opening his fly and button, only letting go so he could get his pants and boxer off.

Jinho kissed you again and you moaned. You didn't think you'd ever need him this much again but you could feel your body trembling for him with only kisses. He pulled away and stood there, heavy breathing, eyes focusing on your every detail.

"I never thought I'd have you like this again", he seemed so sincere that made your heart ache.

"You do now", was all you could say before his hands were all over you. Gently caressing from your shoulder to your thighs, his strong hands guiding your legs to be around his waist.

"I don't think I can wait much more. '' Jinho didn't seem pleased with himself, staring at your chest instead of your face. You could see his hard shaft twitching whenever your skin rose up in goosebumps to his touch but the wetness between your legs was not any better.

"Please…".

Before you could say anything else, Jinho was already touching you, hands firmly grasping your breasts and squeezing, playing with your nipples while slowly grinding against you, his dick moving easily against your folds with how slick you were.

He groaned when you moved your hips back, hands exploring his toned chest and arms, touching all parts of him you could reach. You missed him so much that all these years apart only made you desperate to have him.

You were the one who moved lower and grabbed his member, smirking when he groaned lowly. You guided him to your entrance without a word, knowing you wouldn't be able to say anything. Jinho thankfully went along with it, letting go of your breasts and supporting himself with his hands on top of you while slowly entering you.

It felt like the world stopped. He felt so good inside, filling you up completely. Both of you moaned, his forehead leaning against yours. When he moved, you couldn't stop looking at him, his intense eyes and mouth open, his arms flexing from the movements, his hair already messy. Jinho was perfect and you wished you never let go. Looking back into his eyes, you could see he was watching you just the same and soon enough he was moving intensely with you, never breaking eye contact.

Everything started so easily and so intimate but even then it surprised you when you realized you two weren't just going on a nostalgic casual fuck. Jinho was making love to you, moving gently but also hitting your spot perfectly, his muscles flexing in the most delectable way. Your hands rested on his waist, caressing the skin as much as you could while you both moved, too deep in the moment to realize you didn't let go of each other's forehead.

It didn't take long for you to feel the fire burning hotter inside of you, the pleasure being too intense, and feeling a white-hot shock through your body. Neither of you said anything, your moaning, and heavy breathing filling your room in the most sensual way possible. One of your hands moved to his chest, right above his heart and his eyes widened. Jinho picked up his movements, chasing his orgasm as yours took over your body, making you arch and move closer to his body.

Thankfully you had recovered seconds later, just in time to see, and feel Jinho climaxing, his eyes squeezed shut and a low deep grunt falling off his lips beautifully. He laid gently on top of you and kissed you again, deep and longingly. When you pulled back, you couldn't help the bright smile you gave him, a soft giggle falling off your lips at the feeling of him in your arms again. Unfortunately, Jinho only half-smiled back and your guts twisted.

"I think we need to talk".

You could only manage a small "yeah", your smile died down. You pointed at the corridor, getting up after his nod. You didn't take long in the bathroom, too anxious to hear him out but also dreading what was about to come. You picked a sweater from the bathroom that surely wasn't supposed to be there and came back to the room.

Jinho was laying down in your bed, boxers back in place, and had half of his body covered with your comfy blanket. He was fidgeting with the hem of the blanket and you knew he was nervous as well.

"I felt cold, I hope you don't mind", he said with a shy smile.

"Of course not", you said, moving to lay with him under the blanket. He moved until he was laying on his side facing you, you mirroring his position.

"So", you both said at the same and that got a nervous laugh out of both of you. You motioned for him to go first.

"Why?", Jinho said, looking into your eyes. "Why did you leave me back then? Be honest this time, please".

"I-", you froze. You knew he'd say something about that but why was he so sure you lied? "How do you know I was lying?"

"We were perfect, Y/N", his voice was soft, his eyes gleaming. "We were in love and we fit perfectly together. You made me believe in soulmates, I felt like I would spend my life with you. And I know you felt the same".

"My scholarship", you said bluntly. "I couldn't have you give up your life for my dream and I knew you'd do it. I couldn't let go of my dream scholarship but I could never let you jeopardize yours".

Jinho closed his eyes briefly and breathed deeply slowly. Your eyes were filled with tears suddenly, a lot of feelings coming back at once. Regret, love, sorrow, how you missed him.

"I don't know if I feel relieved or even more hurt", he chuckled but you both couldn't see the humor. "I mean, I was sure you loved me but you were so hurtful that I was starting to believe you never actually even liked me".

"No!", you sit up quickly, eyes wide. "I thought it was the only option but I never stopped loving you", you blurted out.

"You… what?"Jinho sat up too then, slowly but surely.

"I know I made a mess and hurt you, but I always loved you when we were together, loved you when I broke up with you and… I honestly think I never got over you completely".

Jinho moved as if he could scare you off at any second. He slowly lifted his hands, thumbs wiping away the tears that fell. It only made you want to run. You had hurt him so much and even then he was taking care of you.

"I'm here now. I- I don't think we can go back to how we were even if we tried. It hurt too much and I don't think we are still the same person we were", he moved until his face was inches away from yours. "I feel the same and always did. I want to heal, I want to help you heal too".

Nodding, you moved to kiss him and sighed in relief when kissed you back.

"We can be friends", you said, lips moving always completely against his. "We can learn about each other again, I can redeem myself", you finished the sentence with a small kiss on his lips and he laughed.

"Friends that may kiss?"

"Friends that definitely will kiss".

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geniusgub · 3 years

Text

sweatpants//spencer reid

genre: fluff

warnings: nothing really. sad spencer for about two seconds.

word count: 2.7k

i have plenty more one shots on my wattpad so let me know if any of you want to see more of this type of writing :) make sure to reblog and comment :))

i fell in love with spencer reid the moment i met him. i fell in love with absolutely everything about him. his smile lit up the little bookstore as his glasses drifted further and further down his nose, and his hair hung over his forehead in messy, unbrushed curls. from the first time we locked eyes after he got a book down from the top shelf for me, i envisioned our whole future together.

we saw each other casually after our first meeting despite how badly i wanted more. we quickly realized that we frequented the little bookstore at the same time on saturdays and we just began to "accidentally" run into each other over and over at the same exact day and time. of course, i made sure to be there every saturday for the next three months just for the chance of seeing him.

i finally got the balls to ask him out after the fifth month of these meetups. he seems surprised and he blushed, then tugged on his tie to loosen it around his neck. he accepted quickly and we went bowling the next week. we were both horrible and eventually asked to put the bumpers up because the amount of gutter balls we were throwing were astronomical. but that "first" date was the first time i noticed something very important about spencer reid.

he wears a variation of the same outfit every single day, no matter what he's doing.

sweater vests, button ups, slacks, ties, and converse. sometimes a cardigan. these items get mixed and matched everyday and sometimes don't match, but the chaos of his outfit colors just suits him. and it suits his penchant for wearing mismatched socks. but i continued to realize more and more about his wardrobe as we spent more time together.

if we went out: slacks, button up, tie, converse.

if we had dinner at his apartment: slacks, button up, sweater vest, tie, converse.

if we cuddle on the couch: pajamas.

there's no in-between with him and it took me a while to decide if i loved this or thought it was odd. i landed somewhere in the middle. he would sometimes start to squirm in the middle of dinner and go to change into pajamas to be more comfortable.

i never commented on this because i knew he liked the way he dressed and i didn't want him to think i hated it. he's already an insecure person, despite me loving him with my whole heart and soul, and i'd feel so horrible if i added onto that. so i would sit through the squirming and the tie-tugging and the quick unlacing of shoes after a long day of converse wearing. i grinned and gave him lots of kisses because i love him regardless of his fashion choices. or lack there of.

but spencer continues to grow and thankfully, i grow with him. i start a new job and spencer continues to thrive at the bau. i move into his apartment and he decides that this is the perfect time for a change. a new haircut. super short on the sides and long on the top. i nearly keeled when i saw how utterly handsome he was with his new haircut. i jumped his bones immediately.

but the sweater vests and same brown cardigan didn't quite hit the spot anymore. i would find spencer standing in front of the mirror before work, silently wondering if the black or brown cardigan would look better with his gray sweater vest. still, it was endearing but eventually it becomes too much.

i pass a department store everyday on my way home from work and it started to pique my interest. one day when i got off work early and knew spencer wouldn't be home, i stopped off. the store was huge and had a humongous selection of styles and brands to choose from. i knew i had to bring spencer.

when i told him i wanted to take him shopping, he tilted his head in confusion like an adorable puppy. "what do you need? new sweaters? it is almost winter and i know you got rid of most of your winter clothes when the summer came. did you—"

"no, honey," i laughed, silencing his confused, off-topic rant. "i'm taking you shopping. for you."

another head tilt. "for me? i don't need anything."

"i know you don't need anything," i clarified, running my hands through his freshly cut hair, "but i want to treat you. and besides, i think you've outgrown some of your wardrobe and it's time to get some new items."

so that leaves us now, walking hand in hand into the department store. he's holding me tighter than usual as i lead him to the men's section, but i don't complain. i know he gets nervous in public places and i have no problem with a bit of coddling.

"so, i was thinking," i say as i flip through a rack of undershirts, "you could get some new dress pants. maybe a pair of jeans. maybe some blazers or just suit jackets. that way your style can grow but you can also wear your trusty button ups and ties underneath."

spencer pouts. "i like it better when we shop for you."

i stifle a laugh as i find an appealing gray blazer and search for spencer's size. "and why's that, bub?"

"because then you get to pick out cute clothes and i can watch you try them on."

"well, this time, i'll get to watch you try them on," i wink and hand the blazer over to him. "hold that. please and thank you."

spencer huffs and drops my hand so he can hold the hanger of the blazer. i continue walking through the racks and in my peripherals, i can see spencer glancing around the store and at the racks surrounding us. he follows behind me like a lost puppy, the amount of items in his hands growing as i pass every rack.

"how would you feel about," i pick out a set of matching maroon pants and a maroon blazer, "this color?" i told it up to spencer's chest. he looks down at the garment and scrunches up his nose. "no? that's okay. i think navy's suit you better anyway. no pun intended."

"babe?" he wonders softly as i move over to a rack of ties. "why are you doing this?"

"doing what?" i pick up a tie that is blue with pink flamingoes on it and drape it over his shoulder.

"taking me shopping. wanting to redo my wardrobe or something."

"well," a new tie on his shoulder- a yellow base with blue whales, "you have had the same wardrobe since i met you, and that was many years ago. you've grown up, spencer. maybe some new clothes could reflect that."

i watch a pout come to his face and his shoulders deflate. "you don't like the way i dress?"

i pout right back at him, trying to not seem so mocking in my expression. "i love the way you dress. but i think it might be time to replace that same brown sweater vest you've had since college. that's what i'm talking about. we don't have to do this if you don't want. we can go home."

spencer thinks for a second. he adjusts his hold on the handful of blazers and trousers in his arms and takes another glance at them. "i'll give these a try."

the pride swells in my chest and nearly bursts out. it's no secret that spencer hates change. he would rather his life stays exactly the same all the time. meals, furniture arrangement, train schedule, his wardrobe. clearly, he would rather wear the same clothes for the rest of his life than branch out a bit. so him agreeing to do just that nearly makes me cry right in the middle of the department store.

we push on and spencer continues to trail behind me and hold the clothes i pick. once his knees are practically buckling under the weight of the chosen clothes, i agree to let him start part two. the fitting room.

he disappears into a room and i sit across from the door in a fluffy armchair that probably has more germs on it than a public bathroom. okay, maybe that's just dramatic. but it has enough germs that i'm sure spencer would refuse to sit here, or maybe even get grossed out that i'm sitting on it.

"uh," i hear my boyfriends voice from behind the door, "i think i did it."

i hold in my giggle. "you think?"

"i mean, i put together an outfit. don't know if it's any good. it's definitely not as good as the things you put together."

"just let me see."

the door pops open and my jaw nearly hits the floor. my spencer is standing there in navy slacks, a navy blazer, a vest, button up, and a tie. he looks exactly like i expected him too. my same loving, quiet, genius boyfriend but much older and mature. he looks phenomenal.

but spencer scrunches up his nose and turns on his toes to look in the full length mirror. "i feel like all of this is too busy. there's too much happening."

"no, baby, not at all," i come up behind him and slide my hands across his back and then around his waist. "it's such a good look on you. it's spencer reid but as an adult."

he furrows his eyebrows and looks at me through the mirror. "are you implying i dressed like a child before?"

"no, no, not at all," i nudge his waist and he spins back to me. "it's a perfect outfit. you put it together perfectly. the colors, the different pieces."

spencer's face lights up as he watches me adjust the lapel of his jacket. "really?"

"yes!" i smooth down the shoulders and then tug on the cuff links. "it's perfectly your style. you don't think so?"

"mm," he looks back down at his own body and shakes out his arms a little. "i guess it is. it's just...different."

"it is different but it's a good different. you're still the same old genius who could go on for hours about mushrooms or doctor who or whatever. so you," i pat his shoulder and go up on my toes to kiss his cheek, "get into a new outfit and show me again, okay?"

spencer agrees and closes the fitting room door. we stay at the store for nearly two hours, picking out and trying on potential outfits. spencer even starts picking items on his own, but he comes to me in the cutest way to ask if i like the things he's picked out. i always do. and even if it's not my favorite piece, he obviously likes it so i tell him i love it.

we spend hundreds and split the bill. i insisted i pay because i was the one who brought him here, but he insisted he pay because the clothes are for him. we found a happy medium.

i don't know what i thought was going to happen after we basically replaced his wardrobe. apparently, i didn't think about what the next work day would be like. because i wake up before spencer and go to make breakfast and only listen to him shower and get dressed.

"good morning!" spencer chirps, practically skipping into the kitchen.

"morning!" i say back, putting pancakes on a plate for him. "here's your—" and i absolutely freeze in my spot at the sight of him in a dark tan jacket and slacks, a purple button up, and a matching gray tie. his hair is perfectly swooped across his forehead and he's grinning, practically glowing in his new outfit. "holy shit."

"you like it?" he holds up his arms a bit as if to gesture to his appearance.

i just stand and stare at him for another minute, clutching the plate in my hand so tightly that i fear i might break it. but spencer chuckles, taking it from me and placing it in front of the chair he always has breakfast in.

"i might not let you out of the house looking this good," i finally manage to say. "you'll come home with a new girl on your arm and forget all about me."

spencer pouts. "i'd never do that to you."

i grab onto his cheeks and lay a huge kiss on his lips. "i know you wouldn't. you look amazing, spence. even better than yesterday."

spencer comes home that night and beams about the compliments he got from his coworkers today and thanks me for encouraging him to expand his wardrobe. i don't accept his thanks because i'm just happy to see him feeling more confident in himself than ever.

however, my job is not done yet.

as much as he loves his new clothes, i give him a few weeks to adjust to his new normal. i let him get used to needing a few extra minutes in the morning to arrange an outfit and to the washing process before i spring something new on him. but once i can tell he's completely comfortable with his new wardrobe, i stop at the department store after work again.

"spence?" i call into the apartment as i kick my shoes off, clutching the paper bag in my hand.

"hi!" he calls back, emerging from the study with a book in his hand. "you're late."

i hold up the bag for proof. "i stopped at the store again." spencer follows me into the bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed in anticipation. "well, first, i saw a couple more ties that i liked," i take those out of the bag and throw them over his shoulder. "but i got these!"

i pull out three perfectly folded pairs of sweatpants and four plain colored tee shirts. spencer unravels each item and then looks up with his eyebrows furrowed. "i don't get it."

"okay," i giggle, placing my hands on his shoulders, "when i go to work, i wear my skirts and blouses and heels, right?"

like the puppy he is, he tilts his head to the side in confusion. "right."

"and when i got to sleep, i wear pajamas. but between the blouse and the pajamas, i wear sweats. you, my love," i boop his nose and instantly, an adorable pink hue paints his cheeks, "don't own sweats. you go from suits to pajamas. and again, i'm not saying that i don't love the way you dress. i'm just looking out for your comfort. if you hate them, i'll return them. simple as that."

he runs his hands over the tee shirts and runs it between his fingers. "they are really soft."

"i got the ones that are 100% cotton because i know you like how it feels."

"i'll try it," he concedes, smiling up at me. "thank you. you're too good to me."

"you deserve the world, angel face."

the next day, he gets called away for a case and i don't see him for almost two weeks. we call and text as much as possible, but we both get so busy that it's nearly impossible. so i stick to sending him good morning and goodnight texts and praying that he comes home in one piece.

after nearly two and a half weeks without him, i come home and see his car in the parking garage where it always is. i squeal, running all the way to the apartment and bursting through the door.

spencer is lounging on the couch, thankfully in one piece, and reading a book, dressed in gray sweatpants and a white tee shirt. he looks up and grins when i enter, standing up and pulling me into his arms.

"i can't believe you're sitting here," i mumble into his neck, "and looking so good when i'm not around."

spencer laughs into my shoulder, kissing my small bit of exposed skin. "well, you're here now so you can enjoy it."

"you look so fucking hot," i blurt out, grabbing a handful of his cotton shirt and tugging him towards the bedroom. "let me show you just how hot i think you are."

"god, i love this new wardrobe."

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #dr reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #mgg

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razrbladekiss · 3 years

Text

Tyrants | Chapter One - Disclosure

A/N: This was supposed to be a Jax x Fem!OC fanfic, but it took a little turn as I started to write more of it. So, it’ll be Tig x Fem!OC, but Jax does play a very important role in this.

SUMMARY: A sick turn of events sees Isla Telford thrown in at the deep end, battling to govern the sudden pressures of all that her father's club decidedly bestow upon her.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of murder, the guy that got his ass shit is in this one. Jax and Tig get their own warnings, too, for obvious reasons.

The older I get, the more I realize that age doesn't bring wisdom. It only brings weary.

John Teller was always so astute.

His judicious character befell his son, too. Jax had that same perceptive nature as his old man--everyone would comment on that.

To Isla, it was admirable. For Jackson Teller to be a man of such stature--to hold such a reputation--and to remain somewhat level-headed through it all, was only something she could commend.

She'd seen many of her father's friends crumble under the pressure of Samcro, unable to balance the weight of living with the responsibility and commitment to the club, and meet their unfortunate demise--in some not-so extreme cases.

But Jax was different. He'd always been different.

Maybe that wasn't so great, however.

"You're fucking insane, Isla."

"Not insane." She mumbled, sifting through the box of shitty medical supplies that Gemma had left atop the pool table last night.

"Just trying to patch this shit up so Hayes doesn't kick the fucking bucket before Jax gets back here."

Tig snarled. "But it might be infected, and the bullet is still in this dude's ass--"

Isla whipped her head to glare at the man, her eyes wide, forehead slick with sweat--and a little blood, too.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Isla--"

"Tig, with all due respect, unless you're gonna help, please get the fuck outta here."

"That's not gonna suffice," he pointed out, referring to the medical tape, ignoring her scolding.

She wanted to throttle him. Truly, Isla was willing to wrap her crimson-coated fingertips around Tig's neck and squeeze the absolute life out of that man.

"I know." Her lips kneaded together in frustration, watching her father dab an alcohol-infused pad on the wound. "But unless you've got any better ideas, then we're just gonna have to keep reapplying this shit."

"But the infection, Isla."

"But the lack of medical equipment, Tig."

He slapped his palm against the table and glared at her, pointedly. "Why've you gotta be such a bitch all the time, huh?"

"Watch it, Trager." Piqued, Chibs growled.

"I'm not a bitch all the time," she dismissed her father, wiping at her palm with a wet rag. "I'm actually able to control the way I act around other people."

"Oh, fuck you--"

"Christ!"

The Scot's yell was muffled by the cap of his whiskey bottle, his hand pressing against Cameron's skin as the man screamed into the cloth Isla had placed underneath his head.

"God, for fucks sake, both of you just pack it in."

"Chibs--"

"Shut the fuck up. You're a fucking geriatric and you're spending your morning bickering with an almost thirty-year-old. Grow up, Tig."

Despite laughing at his comment, and enjoying the irritation wash over the other man's face, she felt bad.

For riling her father up--who was simply trying to help the innocent Irishman caught in the literal crossfire--she felt fucking awful. Especially because he never seemed to get mad at her all too often.

Tig, though...That was a different story entirely.

"I'm gonna go see if Clay has any more shit lying 'round here." She declared, throwing a damp towel onto the table, backing out of the room.

Her heart was in her throat, stomach in damn knots. Isla wasn't confident that Cameron was going to make it--not with such a deep wound.

And in his ass, too? Jesus. She wasn't confident at all.

Of course, she'd seen men get shot. Her own father, for one. But she hadn't seen somebody have to go so long without actual medical attention.

Chibs was ex-army med, but there was only so much a man could've done with a bottle of liquor, gauze, and a towel.

She was relieved that the bullet hit Cameron and not Clay, though. As sick as it sounded, she was so fucking glad that he'd managed to dodge the line of fire--initially intended for his own skull--and come out completely unscathed.

But for every ounce of relief she'd felt, an even more fervid sense of anger prevailed at the thought of Jax taking so damn long with those medical supplies he'd sought to get last night.

Gemma mentioned something about heading to the hospital--or a friend's house, or something--but Isla wasn't paying any mind to the woman as she, and Chibs, were trying all ways to stop the bleeding coming from Cameron's ass cheek.

It was the most bizarre turn of events she'd ever experienced.

One minute, Isla was sipping on a glass of wine while she eagerly awaited the spirited ping of her tiny microwave oven, ready to spend a rare--though well fucking deserved--night alone.

However, things took a drastic turn when she received a call from Tig--on behalf of a very busy Chibs--casually requesting her assistance because the Mayans had tried to assassinate Clay.

But Tig failed to mention that the man was completely fine.

She'd spent fifteen minutes on the way over mentally preparing herself, wondering what hell she'd walk into when she set foot into the clubhouse. But it was normal--strangely so.

Isla wasn't a professional, she didn't exactly know how to handle such a trauma, but she trusted her father and she just wanted to make sure he had a helping hand.

God knows that Tig wouldn't have been very much use, and Juice was a little nervous--though, he was doing incredibly well throughout the ordeal regardless of his internal apprehension.

"How's it looking?" Gemma threw at Isla, getting to her feet.

"Bloody."

She quickly scanned the room, taking in the uncomfortably sparse bar. It wasn't usually so empty, so quiet.

Clay, Gemma, and Juice. That was it. Not even Piney--not even Epps.

"Is he doing okay?"

It was still early in the day, though. She guessed that they'd pop in once they properly came around.

"He's better than he was last night." The brunette nodded. "Dad is certain the laceration is gonna get infected if we leave it any longer without trying to get the bullet out--"

"You've gotta wait 'til Jax gets back here, Isla, we can't risk Hayes dying on us."

"I know, Clay. He's just fucking tired--he's been up all night. We need a real medic on the scene before something bad happens. It's only a matter of time."

He mumbled something to himself that only Gemma seemed to catch, but Isla didn't particularly give a damn at that point. Like Chibs, she was exhausted.

The tattered and torn plaid shirt she had thrown over a random tank top--now smeared with another man's blood--was wrenched between her fingers as she pulled it off, folding it not-so-neatly.

She hadn't dealt with such a bloody wound in a while. Not since her mother's palm, decorated with shards of glass, was in dire need of stitches and her father was across the country, unable to offer his medical assistance.

"I'll grab one of Jax's shirts for you--"

"No, Gemma, it's okay," she smiled, taking a seat on one of the couches opposite her.

The older woman pinched her eyebrows together skeptically, watching Isla shift. "I insist."

"It's fine." Isla was adamant. "I'm gonna head home as soon as Jax gets back here--if he gets back here--so, really, it's fine."

A minimal amount of already dried blood was spread over her wrists and fingers, and the excess had been rubbed off on her crimson flannel, so she didn't particularly feel bad about making any mess.

Though, she shouldn't have felt bad. Not after she'd been coerced into helping and eventually receiving that shitty reception from Tig.

"Aren't you cold?" She questioned, waiting for Isla to capitulate, but she never did.

The thought of wearing one of Jax's shirts--after it being given to her by his fucking mother--didn't sit right with her for some reason. Plus, she didn't particularly feel like walking out of that building wearing the damn reaper on her back.

She didn't want to flaunt their patch. Not any more than she already had been for the last ten years.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Clay glared at the clock on the wall, realizing they'd been without the Vice President for hours. In an attempt to put him at ease, Gemma ran a hand along his shoulder.

Isla could only watch them--admire, perhaps.

"He told us he was gonna swing by Tara's place for the equipment. But that was last night, man." Juice shrugged, circling the lip of his beer bottle with his thumb.

She felt her throat thicken with a sick sense of trepidation. She hadn't heard that name in years.

"Tara?" She stuttered, feeling Gemma's piercing glare.

The woman hated Jax's first love, though she never said it aloud. Isla knew her perception of her, however, and she'd started to feel the exact same as the years went on.

Bitch.

"Yeah, y'know, Tara Knowles--"

Her heart sank--fuck that, it dove straight to the deep caverns of her chest, throbbing away into nothing. Until she felt completely void of all emotion. Completely fucking numb.

"I know her, Juice." Her response came hastily, snappy. "I'm sorry. I just didn't expect you to say that."

He shrugged it off. "It's alright. I wasn't expecting her to be back in town, either. I thought you already knew."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Isla's head shook.

The crow situated at the bottom of her spine began to smolder, blistering away at her skin until she physically flinched.

It was a brilliant idea at the time, getting a matching tattoo with Jax's old lady--the one woman she truly adored and trusted, never once feeling an ounce of malice toward.

Because that was a rare thing for Isla, and she wanted their friendship--and relation to Samcro--to prevail for eternity, she supposed.

But as time went on and Tara decided to distance, and eventually alienate, herself from the club, an ample sense of regret persisted for fucking months.

Isla loathed her ink. She hated the negative connotation of the crow she once lauded, and the mere idea of that thing being slapped above her ass forever churned her stomach.

It wasn't one of her finest moments, she had to admit. But she was young and extremely fucking dumb. She'd bet top dollar that Tara felt the same--if she hadn't gotten the crow covered up already.

"Jesus, Jax, where were you?!"

Her eyes flicked upward, attention on the blonde as he sauntered across the wooden floor of the bar.

She hadn't even noticed his presence until Clay spoke, but she soon started to heed how Jax was trembling a bit with every step that he took.

It wasn't obvious. To most people, the slight shake of his wrist would've gone completely unnoticed. But to Isla--to the most observant woman in Charming--his discomfort was striking.

Jax ignored him, stomping his way toward the back room. His line of sight never satisfied Isla's. It didn't even come close to it, either.

Something had happened. It was obvious that, in the time he had been with Tara, he'd encountered something grizzly enough to chill him to the bone.

Which was saying something, what with the horrific shit that he'd already seen in his time.

"Jax!" Clay yelled, following closely behind him. "Hey, asshole, where the fuck did you put the bag--"

"I've got it."

If she had the option, Isla would've allowed the floor to swallow her fucking whole.

"Tara." Pissed, Gemma acknowledged. "You're here because?"

"I asked her to help, mom."

"But Chibs had it covered. He just needed some actual instruments--"

"Gemma, quit it."

She simply nodded at her son, not wanting to cause another problem that she'd have to fix later--which, honestly, Isla was shocked to see.

"He's in there--"

"I know." Jax cut her short, ushering Tara to the back of the clubhouse--striving to get her into the room before she heeded Isla.

But she did.

The first person she clocked--aside from Clay--was Isla Telford, the woman she had purposely alienated herself from ten fucking years ago.

It wasn't anything that she'd particularly done to Tara, more like the crowd she ran with--and the way her loyalties never seemed to lay very closely to her friends, or anything outside of the club.

Isla wasn't a part of Samcro--she didn't want to be a part of Samcro--but her coalition was strong enough to convince anybody that she was more than merely a daughter of a Sgt. at Arms.

She had been brought up around the Sons--her father's choice, of course--and when her mother passed, she had no choice but to dive a little bit deeper into that world. But, as expected, it was constantly under the watchful eye of her old man.

She was dedicated to them. They were, essentially, family, and she was an honorary member.

"Isla." Jax mumbled, nodding his head toward the entrance of the clubhouse as he closed the back-door. "Outside."

He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his leather vest, shaking the box as he strived to seem a little less suspicious to Clay and his mother.

The blonde wobbled to her feet--knees weak after hours of standing--while simultaneously pulling her bloodied flannel back onto svelte, freckled arms, recognizing that the chill was to hit her the second she stepped onto the gravel.

Jax was casual while he strutted ahead, taking long strides that Isla found fucking impossible to keep up with.

He pushed the door to close behind her, offering a cigarette that she hastily declined.

"What's she doing here?" Was how she decided to break the silence, her eyes searching for a hint of something written on his face.

But there was nothing. Not an ounce of emotion--scarily so.

"She's fixing Cameron up--"

"Not at the clubhouse, Jax. I meant back in Charming."

He ran a thumb across his lower lip, trying to soften his gaze on Isla, but it was futile. He looked discomposed--unsettled.

"She's uh--she's workin' at the hospital now." She started to nod, waiting for his elaboration. It never came, however.

"Oh, that's nice. I wonder what happened in Chicago...Do you know why she's back here? Or how long she's gonna be staying in town--"

"You sound like my fucking mother--give it a break with the thirty-seven questions about Tara, damnit."

He snarled, heeding the distaste of his words the second she glowered at him.

"Excuse you?"

"I didn't call you out here for a sweet little conversation, Isla, I called you 'cause I need your help--"

"With what?"

Jax's hand hooked onto the back of his neck while he tilted his head to look upward, thinking of a way--any fucking way--to explain just what damn mess he'd found himself entwined with over the course of the last twenty-four hours.

He didn't know what to say or how to say it--if he should've fucking said it. He trusted Isla with his life--always had--but sometimes he appreciated that she mightn't have appreciated finding herself tangled within Jax's boisterous, at times frightening, life.

But it was too late for that. She'd been dragged through the deepest shit and wasn't crumbling that easily.

"Jax--"

"Kohn." He stated simply, waiting for the cogs of her brain to begin turning.

"What about him? You got in trouble with the ATF or something? Because we can handle that--"

"I already did." Jax laughed humorlessly, finally meeting Isla's line of sight.

The skin underneath his eyes was red raw, blotchy and irritated after he had used the sleeve of his hoodie to scrub away the tears he'd shed.

The tears he hadn't wanted to shed, but had fallen freely--uncontrollably--from those cerulean hues Isla never tired of looking at.

"What do you mean by that?" Nervously, she quizzed.

He didn't even have to say anything. She fucking knew. She knew exactly what he meant by that, but there was a tiny morsel of something within her that hoped and prayed that he'd declare that her gut feeling was wrong.

But he couldn't. Because it was right. Like always, Isla's intuition didn't fail her.

"Jax, honey, what did you do--"

"I killed Kohn."

#sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fandom #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy fic #tig trager #tig trager fanfiction #tig trager fic #tig trager x oc #jax teller #jax teller x oc #jax teller fanfiction

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sharkbait77 · 3 years

Text

The Singer (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

Chapter Three

Warnings: Mention of food/alcohol, language, pure fluffy fluffiness (I'm such a softie I'm sorry 😭)

W/C: 4.2k

A/N: Notes at the bottom! And I'm running out of gifs to use of scruffy faced Marcus. I'm gonna have to shave him soon 👀 I hope you enjoy our soft boi in this chapter! 🥰

Just as a reference if you need help understanding the different formats:

«Phone conversation on their end»

Thoughts

Text messages

Song mentioned:

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

Gif by me! Yes it's Teresa but it still fits & I only care that it's his hand lol

«Oh my god, I'm melting!» Celina yells in her phone enthusiastically. You giggle as you wait for her eagerness to calm down.

You had barely taken your shoes and jacket off after getting inside your apartment when you immediately dialed up Celina's number to tell her about the night. You feel like you're having an out of body experience. Sure, your heart is still guarded and unfortunately, you'll most likely have your doubts throughout the relationship, but you truly feel like this could go somewhere. You want to give yourself that chance and allow Marcus to help heal your heart, maybe doing the same for him in return.

"So he's picking me up on Saturday and I'm freaking out a little," you say and chew on the skin around your nail beds.

«Why? Don't be! Just treat it like how you did tonight!» She encourages.

"But it's a legitimate date this time, I have to do my hair and makeup perfectly and find the perfect outfit and-"

«Girl, have you seen your closet? You have nothing but perfect outfits!» She teases and you chuckle, lowering your fingers from your mouth.

«You don't need to try to be perfect hun, just be yourself! Be the girl he has already seen in front of him.» You smile at her heartfelt words. «I bet he's already in love with you!»

"Okay, you're not helping!" You laugh, placing your hand on your forehead. "I'll talk to you later, I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'll probably be calling you on Saturday so I can freak out some more."

You say your goodbyes and hang up, sinking yourself into your couch and smiling widely. Your head is buzzing from a sugar rush, but you can't tell if it's because of the pancakes or because of Marcus. You walk to the kitchen to make some sleepytime tea, hoping it'll relax your nerves enough for you to get some shut eye.

* * * *

You take a shower and climb into your comfy pajamas and the tea works its magic as you relax on your plush bed, surrounding yourself with pillows and your soft blanket enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes get heavy and you feel yourself on the brink of sleep when you hear your phone vibrate on the nightstand. You try to ignore it, but it vibrates again and you figure it's Celina probably sending you a funny video. Your curiosity gets the better of you and you reach over to grab your phone, the brightness from the screen stinging your eyes from the time they had adjusted to the darkness. You blink a few times until you can see the screen clearly.

555-9057: Hi Dulce :)

555-9057: Made it home. I had a great time :)

You bite your lip and smile at the messages on your lock screen, heat flashing through your head seeing him call you the nickname you gave yourself in his phone. And just like that, you're wide awake again. You unlock your phone and before you can type a reply, he sends another message.

555-9057: It's Marcus btw

Marcus groans to himself as he sends that last message. What the hell was that? Of course she knows it's you. Dumbass. He watches the screen and holds his breath when he sees the text bubbles pop up and he waits nervously for your reply.

Dulce💋: I'm glad you specified! Right after you dropped me off another guy took me out for dulce de leche pancakes and I also penned myself as Dulce in his phone 🤭

He chuckles out loud in the quiet atmosphere of his apartment, the sound bouncing against the walls and reverberating around the living room. Damn, she's good.

555-9057: Okay okay you got me, don't have to be so mean :P

So he's a classic emoji kind of guy, you smile as you make a note and file it in the little 'Marcus Pike' folder in your brain. You hit his phone number and tap the plus symbol to make a new contact in your phone. For some reason, you find yourself struggling as you try to figure out what to put his contact name as.

Agent Cutie

Nope, delete.

Agent Pike

What are you, his secretary? Delete delete.

Marcus

Should I put an emoji? Which one? Can't be a heart. You are seriously overthinking this.

Marcus Pike

Yeah, okay. I guess.

Me: Why did it take so long to get home? Do you live far?

Marcus Pike: It was about 30 min from your place :) not too bad

Thirty minutes?! Great, now I feel bad.

Dulce💋: Wth if I had known I wouldn't have let you drop me off! 🙄

Me: Don't worry about it! I was more than happy to ;)

Shit shit shit I didn't mean the wink! Why are they right next to each other?! Do I say something? Oh god, way to go, you ruined it.

Dulce💋: Then I'll give you gas money!

Marcus takes a breath of relief when he sees that you sidestepped his accidental wink emoji. After he catches his breath, his phone chimes again.

Dulce💋: And I won't take no for an answer 😉

Okay, there's no way she sent that by accident. Is she flirting with me? Do I flirt back? Why are my hands so sweaty?

Dulce💋: It's time for bed, those pancakes made me sleepy 😴 good night Marcus ☺️ See you Saturday!

Marcus smiles to himself and he anticipates seeing you on Saturday. He sends you another text and walks to his restroom to take a quick shower before climbing in bed.

Marcus Pike: Can't wait :) good night!

There's no way you can sleep now, but you said good night for his sake; he had a long day at work, plus he took you out and then had a long drive home. You know he must be tired. Your heart races as you scroll through your short text conversation, rereading the messages and giggling softly.

Did he mean to wink? It was probably an accident, considering he types out emojis instead of using the newer, more convenient ones. You just couldn't help but send one back, though; hiding behind the screen helped you to flirt openly with him. You roll onto your side to face the TV on your dresser, turning on a true crime documentary and letting it eventually lull you to sleep.

* * * *

Saturday comes around quickly, much to your delight, but as you wander around your room looking at the many outfits you laid out on your bed, your dresser, even on your couch, the nerves set in fast. You pray to whoever’s listening that you don’t seize up when Marcus picks you up. Which is in fifteen minutes. You already have your hair and makeup done, all you need is to pick an outfit. Simple in theory. Just pick one! You chew your lip nervously out of habit before stopping as soon as you realize you probably just messed up the red lipstick you had applied earlier.

You rush to the bathroom mirror and sure enough, there's a bare spot on your bottom lip and the lipstick has transferred to your front teeth. You groan in frustration and grab a makeup wipe to carefully remove the ruined lipstick and you brush your teeth again until it's all gone. You reapply the same shade of red, pleasantly surprised with yourself that it came out better than the first time. You take a deep breath and try to calm down, telling yourself that the first outfit you land your eyes on will be the one you wear. You count down from three in your head and enter your bedroom.

Okay, maybe not that one. You decide to close your eyes and try again. When you open your eyes, they land on a different outfit. Not that one either. You sigh harshly through your nose. Why is this so hard? You walk over to your nearly empty closet for the umpteenth time and your eyes catch on to a dress hidden in the corner that you had surprisingly missed before. This one.

It's a spaghetti strapped, black, bodycon dress with a lace overlay, flowers printed on the fabric throughout. It hugs your body in all the right places, reaching down to your knees, and you take a look in the floor length mirror next to your dresser as you put on your black, open-toed heels, smiling brightly as you feel confidence shooting through your veins.

Adrenaline gets mixed in as soon as you hear a knock on your door. Five on the dot. You grab your black cardigan and purse off the couch and open the door, your breath taken away by the handsome man in front of you. He's carrying a box of chocolates and it fumbles in his hands, nearly falling once his wide eyes see you. He looks at you from head to toe, making your heart race as you feel heat rushing over your body in line with his gaze and you shift your weight from side to side anxiously.

"Wow," he says breathlessly, unable to say anything afterwards.

"Wow yourself," you smile, looking over his own outfit: a navy blue suit and a black, button up shirt underneath, paired with black dress shoes. He slicked his hair back and cleaned up his beard slightly. He really is a gorgeous man.

"Uh," he stutters and glances to the box in his unknowingly tight grasp. "These are for you," he smiles shyly as he hands you the chocolates.

"Thank you," you say, giggling at the indents his fingers made on the sides of the box and you turn around to leave them on your entryway table.

You turn back to face him and see his eyes look up quickly and you wonder if you just caught him staring at your bottom. Your suspicion is confirmed when his cheeks flush pink. You laugh softly and he holds his arm out to you.

"Ready?" He asks and you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

You nod and link your arm in his, letting him help you down the stairs. You're starting to love the way his arm hugs yours as you walk and the warmth of his body mixing with yours. Your footsteps even sync up together in a slow cadence. He walks you to his car, letting you hold your weight with his arm as you slowly lower in the seat, your movement restricted by your tight dress and high heels.

You thank him once you're seated, buckling your seatbelt, and he walks to his side, sitting down and starting the car. You notice the radio is on this time, playing at a low volume, and you think to yourself that he probably only forgot to turn it on last time.

The aura is tense in the car, both of your nervous energies dancing in the air together to the music. You try to think of something to say, resorting to looking through your mental file of basic conversation starters. The weather? No, too basic. Say something about the music. No-

"You look really beautiful," Marcus finally breaks the silence. Your head snaps up to look in his direction and you share a smile, thanking him and returning the compliment.

He takes his eyes off the road for a couple of seconds to look at you with a soft smile and turns his attention back to driving straight. He would keep his eyes on you if he could, but he'd rather not get into a car accident and ruin the night. So he just waits patiently until the next moment he can steal a glance. He takes a peek at you while you're stuck at a red light and he sees you picking at your cuticles nervously. He rubs his clammy palm on his pant leg, hoping to dry up any sweat present as much as possible. Before he can think twice about it, he reaches his hand over to grab yours.

Your heart jumps in your throat from the action and you look down in shock at his large hand covering yours completely. The blood rushes to your cheeks; his hand is rough from work, but soft and gentle enough that it's not uncomfortable. And warm. So warm. You stop picking your cuticles immediately, now memorizing the fine wrinkles in his hand and the ridges on his knuckles.

"Are you okay?" He asks, not moving his hand from your lap as he starts driving again.

"Yeah," your voice makes an embarrassing harmony, splitting in two different octaves from disuse. You swallow some saliva to lubricate your vocal cords and try speaking again.

"I'm just a little nervous," you admit.

His hand is still resting on top of yours; you're not sure if you should open your hand up to face your palms together and hold his hand as well. Alas, you take too long to make a decision and he pulls his hand away to grasp the steering wheel, bracing for a left turn.

"Please don't be nervous," he smiles with his pearly white teeth and it only makes you more nervous. How is he this handsome?

"It's just me," he adds as he pulls up to the restaurant, putting the car in park and removing the key from the ignition.

"'Just you'?" You quote him inquisitively. He nods and you shake your head with a small chuckle.

"What?" He chuckles with you.

"It's not 'just you' though, is it?" You reply softly.

You wonder if he's uncertain of himself and his ability to make women — i.e. you — weak in the knees. He seems oblivious to it and it makes him all the more charming to you. You see his eyebrows furrow and before he can ask what you mean, you turn to open the car door.

"Wait," he tells you, rushing out of his seat and over to you to help you out.

You wanted to manage it yourself, but you know you must look ridiculous with how bad you're struggling to get out of the car. He chuckles at the sight once he's on your side and he holds his arm out. You hold onto his forearm tightly and pull yourself upward as he lifts you as well until you're firmly planted on your feet.

"Maybe this dress wasn't a good idea after all," you giggle.

"I think it was," he flirts and you look away as you smile shyly.

You walk together up the steps to the front of the restaurant and Marcus apologizes for not warning you about the stairs. You tell him not to worry and though you can feel the ache in the arches and heels of your feet, you don't complain. He holds the door open for you and you walk in, your eyes instantly catching on the glimmering, crystal chandelier hanging in the waiting area. The lights are dimmed in an amber glow and there are pillars with intricate carvings and vines wrapped around the stone throughout the entirety of the establishment.

You gasp to yourself; this place must be expensive. How did you go from pancakes at grandma's house to a fancy, Italian restaurant like this? Your ears catch the sounds of a violin, but it's too close to just be playing from a speaker. Sure enough, you look further into the restaurant and see a man in a suit playing a violin. A live violinist?! Marcus joins your side again and notices the look of astonishment on your face.

"What's wrong?" He asks and you jerk your head to look at him, not even realizing he was standing next to you.

"Marcus, this looks like it's going to be really expensive."

You whisper in his ear so you don't offend any of the staff members and the height from your heels allows you to reach his head a little better now. The hot breath from your mouth tickles his ear and a bolt of arousal shoots down his spine. He laughs it off and leans his mouth to your ear in return.

"I like to make a fuss," he says, the deep tone of his voice giving you goosebumps. "Don't worry about it," he says in his normal tone as he stands up straight again.

The maître d' greets you two as you walk up to the host stand and Marcus gives the man his name for the reservation. The maître d' informs Marcus the table is not quite ready yet, adding that you're welcome to wait at the bar. Marcus looks at you to get your opinion; you say yes and Marcus lightly places his hand on the middle of your back, guiding you as you walk over to the bar top together. You take a seat in the soft barstool; it's easier to sit on since it's basically at standing height. Marcus removes his hand from your back to take a seat, his fingers gliding against the delicate lace of your dress across your spine and you shudder. Thankfully, it goes unnoticed.

The back of the bar is riddled with an assortment of different liquors, both American and Italian, and they're resting on lit up shelves. You look at the drink menu and your mouth opens in horror at the prices listed. This is definitely too much money. The bartender comes your way and Marcus orders a campari and grapefruit juice, immersing himself fully in the Italian culture. You say you'll stick with water and excuse it as you not feeling like drinking tonight. Marcus doesn't question it further.

The two of you comment on the decor of the restaurant, mainly the paintings hanging on the walls, and you mention that you love the lilies resting in the painted, ceramic vases and Marcus takes note of that fact. A waitress walks up to you and Marcus to let you know your table is ready and he finishes the last of his drink and stands, offering you his hand this time instead of his arm. You smile as you take it, your heart thumping in your chest as you let him guide you while you both follow the waitress.

The restaurant is bustling; heavy sounds of conversation and cutlery clinking on plates as you walk through what seems the entirety of the restaurant until the waitress leads you to a small, private patio. A round table is seated there, covered by a red tablecloth and adorned with a single, tall candlestick, burning a light glow. There's a cylindrical basket full of bread sticks and two water glasses, condensation running along the sides and onto the cloth. Marcus pulls your chair out for you, helping you to sit and scooting you in and sits down across from you. You hang your cardigan and purse on the back of your chair and take the menu the waitress is holding out to you.

You both thank her and she leaves, stating she'll be back soon to take your order. You marvel at the privacy Marcus planned for you two and you take a sip of your ice cold water, reveling in the relief washing through your dry throat. You flip open your menu; the options are minimal and are all expensive. You immediately scan for the cheapest dish: a $30 plate of chicken cacciatore. You feel guilty; you never want Marcus to break his bank trying to take you on a date. You glance at him and wonder why he would do all of this just for you. Did he really think you were that special?

You find yourself missing that little pancake diner and the time you shared there. There, you only felt the budding emotions consistent with a high school crush, but in this moment now, it's real life and mature adult feelings and you feel it much stronger in this environment. Marcus senses your mood change and leans forward to ask if you're okay, but he's interrupted by the waitress. You order the 'cheap' chicken cacciatore and he orders the tajarin al tartufo. Whatever that is.

"Why did you order the cheapest dish?" Marcus asks once the waitress leaves.

"Because I wanted to," you give him a sly smile to convince him otherwise, but he sees right through you, giving you a look of disbelief. You sigh.

"Because Marcus, it's too much money," you say sadly. "I mean, how much was it to get this private patio set up?"

"That's not important to me," he shakes his head. "This is our first proper date and I wanted to make it special."

Damn it. Why is he so thoughtful? And so damn cute?

"It's not that I don't appreciate it, I'm blown away by this, but I'm just... I'm not used to it," you pull your lips into your mouth slightly, mindful of your lipstick.

"Is that why you didn't order a drink?" He asks. You give him a lopsided frown and shrug your shoulders, your expression answering him instead of your words. He sighs and tilts his head to the side.

"I don't want you to worry about how much everything costs when you're with me; let me spoil you. You deserve it."

Let me spoil you. You deserve it. His words float around in your head, your eyes filling with fondness at the thought. You didn't think you deserved to be spoiled; your ex made sure of that much. It's exhilarating to say the least; this man you barely know ready to do anything for you at any time. But you like it, and you think in time, you could learn to love it. Learn to love him. You blink wildly and you inconspicuously shake your head at that last thought.

It was definitely way too soon to be thinking like that and it scared you that it entered your mind at all. It must be the ambiance of the restaurant. You think about how you should protect yourself in case this takes a wrong turn and you debate on placing that in the priority spot in your mind. Marcus can see you fighting your own thoughts and he tries to lighten the mood.

"I also might be trying to impress you for real now," he smiles.

You chuckle and shake your head. Marcus thinks to himself how beautiful you look under the moonlight that's shining through the glass awning above your heads, face lit up by the glowing candle. He can't stop his mouth from saying what he wants to say, not in this romantic atmosphere.

"I think you're a wonderful, beautiful woman and... I really like you," he adds, reaching across the table for your hand and you let him hold it, tangling your fingers with his.

You're positive he can feel your pulse through your fingers or hear your heart pounding, the blood whooshing in your ears muffling any other sounds from coming in. As much as you want to protect yourself, the look in his eyes only draws you in and you can't hide the truth from him or yourself, your confession spoken out loud for the first time for you both.

"I like you, too, Marcus." He smiles happily at you.

There must be something in the water here.

"Do you think it would be okay to keep this up?" He asks, meaning the dates, and you can't stop your head from nodding yes and you give him a sweet smile.

Marcus lets go of your hand, letting his rest in front of him and you take a deep breath, trying to shake your nerves from the exchange that just took place between you. You grab a bread stick and attempt to take a small bite; you and Marcus laugh together as your small bite accidentally turns into a big one, the stick breaking in the wrong place and leaving a large chunk of bread hanging from your mouth. Of course, leave it to something awkward happening to you to break the tension. But anything to see his face come together in joyous laughter.

* * * *

"Thank you again Marcus, that was actually very delicious," you say while Marcus begins the drive back to your apartment. "I see why it was so expensive." He hums in agreement; his smile hasn't left his face since the restaurant.

You listen closely to the new song that comes on the radio, trying to make out the tune until it gets louder and you realize it's "At Last" by Etta James.

"I love this song," you say under your breath. Marcus hears you and turns up the volume slightly, earning a bright smile from you. You look back out the window and sing the lyrics softly.

At last, my love has come along,

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song.

Marcus's heart races as he listens to the lyrics being sung by you and they hit a little too close to his heart. You don't realize at first the meaning behind them, only enjoying singing along.

At last, the skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover,

The night I looked at you.

You now realize the words are identical to how you feel. You wonder if you're falling too fast for Marcus. This was only your second date and there is still so much to learn about each other. You have a whole past to open up about, which will be a defining moment for your relationship. But as you look over at Marcus and you feel the tender organ in your chest beating fast, you think to yourself that it can't get much better than this. What's the harm in trying?

Chapter Two | Chapter Four

The Singer Masterlist

A/N: Okay just wanted to explain what Marcus ordered if you're interested! *DESCRIPTION OF FOOD/ALCOHOL COMING UP* I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong! According to Google:

Campari is an Italian bitters made of fruit & herbs & you usually mix it with juice or club soda (hardcore Italians drink it straight up) & it's a pre-meal drink

Tajarin al tartufo is an egg pasta, made with more egg whites than traditional egg pastas, & topped with white truffle. Idk it sounded fancy & expensive 😂

Also, here's their outfit inspos! Just a couple of things I described differently like his shirt being black & her dress having lace instead of mesh.

Ofc Marcus in this suit 🥵 I copied the description lol

TAG LIST:

@hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @giselatropicana

#marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction

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cyanide-latte · 2 years

Note

Hmmmmm thoughts on books you think are overrated/get too much undeserved attention? Like something that's super popular and you just don't get why? 🤔

Oh ho ho, Lottie always here with the big questions to make me think!

You know, I sometimes find myself wondering if social media platforms where the bookish community is active and thriving doesn't result in some kind of echo chamber that contributes to why some books of modeling and mediocre quality get so popular and overhyped? BookTube, much as I enjoy watching some content creators, does this, and I'm sure the same is true for Bookstagram, BookTok, etc. Publishing companies and booksellers notice content creators with a large viewership, so they offer sponsorships and free gifts in exchange for the creator pushing something that sponsor wants pushed. Which then eventually results in an echo chamber of many, many people hyping up something that really isn't all that amazing, no matter how popular it is. I strongly think that's part of it.

But then there are books where I see they're extremely popular and genuinely scratch my head over it. I almost thought I wouldn't be able to think of an example for this but almost immediately one popped into my head and I'll probably get shit for my unpopular opinion, but...

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo.

Now, here's why I know my opinion is unpopular. I enjoyed her original Grisha trilogy when I read it. I've got mixed feelings about several aspects of it, but I enjoyed the story. Most people find it boring or too trope-y or "standard/generic YA fantasy", whatever the blessed fuck that means. But I've not seen a single damn person do anything but praise her Six of Crows duology.

So, I've not yet started the second book in the duology, Crooked Kingdom, though it's on my backlist TBR to read for 2022. But I read Six of Crows dubiously because it was so hyped. Because WOW it's a heist book and that's never been done before and WOW the main cast checks off the hot keyword diversity boxes and WOW even though it's YA you won't think it's YA because it feels so *~Adult~* and not trashy it's practically more like New Adult fiction instead of YA, and WOW WOW WOW!

.........

I read the book. I liked the characters. And there were elements of the plot that were interesting. But the pacing. Dear God, the pacing. 2/3rds of that book is just flashbacks giving us characters' backgrounds, and it's interspersed in a somewhat haphazard way throughout the main "presently-occurring" plotline. It was disruptive, and realizing that the actual plot of the book barely filled a third of its near 700-some page count made me question a lot of things about what Bardugo was doing. What was she being told to do by her editors? Why didn't she make a series of novella prequels for the backstories and then the rest of the book? Heck, could've put that all in the book still without disrupting the narrative flow. OR, given how little of the book was "present time", could have made one book all the backstories, then made Crooked Kingdom somewhat longer than it is to contain the whole thing. Especially considering the way Six of Crows ends on a cliffhanger to set up almost the entire plot for the sequel, when they only barely accomplished the initial heist plot very quickly if you cut out the flashbacks and condense that "present time" together. Could have been done very differently and much better from a structural perspective.

But that wasn't what happened and it made me question why the book was written the way it was, and why so many people (especially people I'd watched long enough to know they normally wouldn't be able to stay engaged with such a writing technique,) think it's amazing. Is it solely because it hits diversity checkboxes? Is it because the idea of a heist plot in a fantasy setting seemed very new and shiny? (I'm pretty sure that's actually been done before. Maybe not in a book targeted at a YA demographic but I'm fairly sure I've seen it done before.) Is it just that SoC is a Hi-Lo book [re: High-interest, Low-vocabulary; entertaining and 'easy' to read, without being inherently childish]? I don't know. I may never know. But I don't get why it (and many other books out there) are so overrated and overhyped and adored when they're more mediocre than most people will admit.

#thank you for the ask!#I'm sorry this got so long-winded again ;A;#answered asks #lucifers-trash-stash #thoughts on ask prompt #bookish thoughts #Cyanide speaks

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ronans-sepiaphotograph · 3 years

Text

Sunflower, Vol. 6

(A Jerejean AU)

Part one.

Part two:

Tired eyes are the death of me

Mouthful of toothpaste before I got to know you

I've got your face hung up high in the gallery

I love this shade, sunflower, sunflower

Your flowers just died, plant new seeds in the melody

This wonderful edit is by @91percentpynch which inspired me to start writing this AU. I adore her and Jean Moreau is the love of our life and the light of our existence and the moon of our sky.

The next time Jean stepped foot inside Knox florists was one month later because he couldn't get Jeremy the shop out of his head. There were hazel eyes and cymbidiums, yellow blonde hair and chrysanthemums and Jeremy and his bright smile.

Jean never wanted anything before. Want meant making yourself vulnerable, stripping down your walls. It had only led him to pain and hurt, blood and tears. But there it was again, this overwhelming ache, this annoying brightness that made Jean want.

The shop was empty except for Garfield sniffing a pot of hydrangeas as Jean was about to open the door, Luna bouncing beside him already.

The bell chimed and a second later, Jeremy's head popped up from behind the counter. He still had his stupid smile on his face that made Jean's heart stutter in his chest. And there were leaves and rose petals stuck in his flowy blonde hair. He waved enthusiastically at Jeremy and Jean smiled a small smile.

"hello" "hi" "how are you, Jean Moreau?"

Jeremy's French was so terribly Jean sighed.

"Jeremy your French is terrible" "I know but it makes you smile so it's win"

Jean didn't know whether to fling himself out of this world or to press his lips on Jeremy's.

"perhaps you can teach me. I can pronounce croissant" "oh mon dieu no" "or avant garde" "stop" "or crème brulée" "no Jeremy-"

Jeremy was staring at him, his smile wider than ever which just made Jean wonder whether he did something.

"did I something?" "You're laughing" "I can laugh" "it's the first time you've laughed that I've heard"

They were both blushing. Jean literally sighed and buried his head in his arms on the table. Jeremy laughed and Jean wanted to tattoo his laugh on his heart even if that made no remote sense.

"if it's okay I'm gonna sit here and sketch" "can I see?" "Maybe later?" "Okay"

He did. The studio was closed today as Aaron had gone home to visit his boyfriend and twin brother. And Jean got terribly bored at the studio alone. And he remembered he had Jeremy's card. So, he was back. He had been busy for a month with a lot of commissions so he had been talking to Jeremy via text. It was quite fun as Jeremy was just as bright when he texted.

He pulled out his sketchbook. There were all sorts of things that he'd sketched. Flowers and vines, hands and eyes, animals and birds. He had tattooed a few even. He looked around but his eyes landed only on Jeremy who stuck out like a sore thumb against the sea of plants.

He gave in and started putting Jeremy on paper. The mess of his blonde hair, wavy and long. His large eyes and pointy nose that dipped at the right angle. The curve of his cupid's bow and the freckles on his face, dusted across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

It was slow and delicate, the scratch of graphite against the paper because art came slow and eventual, like rainfall on a sunny day.

Jeremy was not short, just that Jean was taller by a few inches. He was tall and angular and had muscular arms and beautiful hands with nerves jutting out when he flexed his hands. His nails were almost always painted a bright yellow.

Jeremy came alive on Jean's sketchbook and the Jean took out his pencils to fill in the colour. He spent a good minutes trying match the colour of Jeremy's skin until he was fed up and went with the closest shade.

When he looked up, Jeremy was tending to a rather large bouquet of tulips and roses as he chatted with his customer. The hope blooming in Jean's chest wilted he saw Jeremy blush while talking to the woman.

Jean vented out his frustration by aggressively scribbling his pencil until the tip broke with a crack. He didn't even know why he was angry at this, this mess of feelings that had bloomed in his chest.

And why would Jeremy even like him? He was too broken, there were too many sharp yet delicate pieces of him that he himself couldn't keep a count of yet he was trying to piece them together, one by one. Why would Jeremy pick those up and cradle them when he could have someone who'd give him all he wanted. Jean had survived, barely and he didn't know how to live. Live in the way life was supposed to be lived in.

Jeremy noticed him and sat beside him after he handed the woman her bouquet. Jean didn't say anything but continues to colour his sketch as he felt Jeremy's eyes linger on him.

"Jean?" "Yes?" "Is that me?"

Jean didn't say anything but responded by slamming his sketchbook shut and gathering his pencils. Jeremy flinched beside him. He got up, eyes burning as he grabbed Luna's leash and walked to leave. She tilted her head in question but followed him nonetheless.

Be still my unsteady heart, he angrily reminded himself as he prepared to storm out.

Then they were, Jeremy's fingers closed around his wrist that made his heart hammer louder than ever that it was ringing in his own ears.

"don't go please"; the broken edges of Jeremy's whisper that told him to turn around.

"did I do something wrong?" "No" "then?" "It hurts" "what does?" "Everything?" "Okay" "you" "me?" "You hurt me"

The silence began to eat him slowly, creeping up from the ground. When he looked at Jeremy, his eyes had darkened to a stormy hazel and his frown was there, underlying. He loosened his grip on Jean's and stepped backward but Jean caught his hand again.

"I've never felt this way about anyone. But you are making me feel these, these emotions that made hope blooms until your girlfriend came here" "I don't have a girlfriend?" "The lady who came in earlier" "oh, she was my sister. She asked me- whether- whether you were my boyfriend" "oh"

There was Jeremy, blushing again, slowly lacing their fingers together; carefully, elegantly, slowly as if giving Jean time to pull away but their fingers tangled and oh, oh, oh, Jeremy was so warm and Jean was so cold. Because Jeremy was alive and warm and his heartbeat was faint staccato under Jean's fingers and Jean was cold and learning to live and his heart was a thawing piece of frozen flesh.

"well" "I'm sorry" "don't be, please. Would you like to have lunch with me?" "Okay" "do you like tacos?" "I suppose"

Jeremy laughed brightly as Jean let go and sat back down. Jeremy called a place and ordered food and came back to sit beside him.

"can I see the sketch?" "Yes"

Jean pulled out his sketchbook and showed the sketch to Jeremy. Jeremy's fingers were feather light on the paper as they grazed his own features, delicate and beautiful. When Jeremy looked back at him, his eyes were bright and twinkling and full of admiration for Jean.

He looked with such ferocity that for the first time Jean felt seen. He felt vulnerable and fragile and felt like Jeremy would break him the way he wanted to be broken, just to be healed again.

His smile was gentle and persistent, it made Jean's heart flutter again. And he was suddenly leaning closer towards Jeremy, closer and closer until their breaths mingled.

"I fear you'll burn me" "what?" "You're so bright like the sun I feel like you'll incinerate this very second until all that remains is nothing yet, yet I can't help but be drawn to you" "oh"

And Jean watched as Jeremy's fingers inched towards his face, slow so as to give Jean to pull away but Jean didn't, he wouldn't. And Jean's skin was on fire as Jeremy's fingers grazed his cheeks, traced the tattoo of the moon that has risen there and the trail of little stars that began at his cheek and cascade down like a starry waterfall down his neck and onto his back and into nothingness.

Jean's inhaled sharply as Jeremy breathed as he traced his finger delicately across Jean's face as if he was made of glass and too much pressure and Jean would crack.

Jean was toughened like a diamond or a rock and nothing could break him anymore but Jeremy. Jeremy made him feel like he was a delicate little thing, a bud, a blossom blooming on a dewy morning.

Jean moved and Jeremy's face was under his hands as the pupils of Jeremy's eyes widened. He rubbed his calloused thumbs across Jeremy's cheeks and Jeremy closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, they were twinkling like stars.

"Hazel mixed with green" "huh?" "The colour of your eyes when you stand under the sun and the rays hit them perfectly"

Jeremy laughed and Jean leaned forward and looked at Jeremy. There was no hesitation, none at all. Jean let his feelings wash him over, trample him over and he had surrendered in this want. He pressed his lips against Jeremy's and they were soft, and warm against Jean's chapped and cold ones. And Jeremy's hands were gentle in his hair, carding through it.

When they pulled away, the unsteadiness in Jean's heart had calmed down as he looked at Jeremy. There was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks that clashed with his freckles and there was that lopsided smile that was different from his usual ones. Jean thought that this one might be special.

"I have nothing to give to you, Jeremy Knox. Except me" "and I'll try to give you everything you want" "I'm broken and there's too many pieces" "then let me pick them up with you, for you" "I fear you'll break me. I fear you'll break me and help me heal when I'm too shattered" "I'll try to make you feel less broken"

Jeremy didn't assure him that he'll make Jean whole. Jean supposed Jeremy knew that feeling whole was just bullshit. It was false hope and fake words for those who were afraid of the truth.

Jean pulled up his sleeves, to reveal his scars and tattoos and Jeremy was staring wide-eyed at him. Jeremy's fingers hovered around his arms and Jean whispered a quiet yes and Jeremy grazed his fingers against his scars, the flowers and vines tattooed around them and the sunflower on his forearm. Jeremy smiled at him through glassy eyes. Jeremy moved his fingers, slender and long and graceful against Jean's skin, like an artist mixing colours on a pallet, careful and methodical.

"you gave me the sunflower, Jeremy Knox" "I remember" "this one will never wilt" "I'll give you a million sunflowers more if you want"

Jean smiled, it was not as bright as Jeremy's but it'd do and pressed his lips against Jeremy's once more.

It felt a lot like blooming.

#all for the game #aftg #nora sakavic #jean moreau #jeremy knox #aaron minyard #kevin day #artist jean #florist jeremy #kevaaron #jerejean #usc trojans #psu foxes #the foxhole court #the raven king #the king's men #pratt posts

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127-mile · 3 years

Text

Une seconde avant noël.

Pairing: Lee Ten x reader.

Genre: Christmas, exes, fake dating, feelings realization / Fluff, angst.

Warnings: Vulgar language, alcohol consumption.

Word count: +5.2k.

Prompt chosen: It’s Christmas Eve. It’s the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer, we smile a little easier, we cheer a little more. For a couple of hours out of the whole year, we are the people that we always hoped we would be.

Plot: What an idea to break up before Christmas, Ten thinks, as he announces to his mother that yes, you will indeed be present at the annual party organized for Christmas Eve.

A/N: This is part of the Walking in a winter wonderland collab hosted by @suh-insane and @neocitybynight.

"Do you always have to be in my way? Fuck Ten, be careful where you are going!" you growl, looking at the content of the box strewn on the floor. You have a ton of work to finish if you want to have a meal break, and Ten really is not making it easy for you. "You piss me off." you mumble as you kneel to retrieve the glitter bloxes, and sigh in exasperation when you notice of them opened. You'll find glitter everywhere for a month at this point. Who is stupid enough to think of glitter as a passable Christmas present for a child, you think, rolling your eyes.

"Can't you be polite? We have customers, damn it!" you turn your face to Ten who looks at you as if you caused the accident yourself when this idiot was hunched over his phone at the time of the impact. "And you, can't you at least pretend to work instead of checking how many sluts you'll be able to bring in your dingy apartment this weekend?" you stuff the glitters into the box while huffing, you can't take any more. If you didn't need the money so much, you would quit your job this instant.

Ten's chuckle is enough to make you angry once again. You can not stand hearing him and his stupid laugh anymore, and if you looked up at him, you would see his annoying little smile. "Are you jealous?" he asks, and you bite your lip so as not to laugh. They are causing enough commotion in the middle of the store, you do not need your boss to come and see what's going on. "Jealous? But why would I be jealous, Ten. You really need to take the time to think and calm your fucking ego, it's not good for you."

"I'm not saying you are jealous, I'm just saying that worrying about who I can bring back to my apartment is suspicious." you look at him, shaking your head. God damn his face would be beautiful with your fist pressed against. "You're so full of yourself Ten. I don't care what garbage you take home, all I want is for you to get down to work, before if you haven't noticed yet, it is almost Christmas and the store is full of customers."

"Garbage?" he asks, tilting his head, and you turn on your heels. "As far as I know, I took you back to my apartment at one point." it is too much for you. You leave the arts and crafts section, and you put the box at the feet of one of your colleagues who looks at you, incredulous. "I'm going to be sick, can you take care of it." you are not sick, but if you stay with Ten for a minute longer, you will eventually be.

You ignore a client who ask you about an interactive teddy bear they sac on TV, and you know it's wrong, but you have no choice, or you'll end up spitting your venom on a poor innocent person who wants nothing more than to please someone for Christmas. You push the door to the break room, and you walk to the bathroom. As you thought, it's empty. The boss doesn't allow anyone to go while they are working.

You push the door open, and you sit on the closed toilet. It is not the cleanest place, but it is the only place where you'll have time to think, and where you can calm your sudden urges for murder. It's sad to see where the relationship between you and Ten is. It was not always like that. There was a time when you weren't insulting each other at any opportunity, when you could smile at each other without wanting to throw up. There was a time when you were in love, and convinced that you would spend the rest of your life together.

You tense when you hear the door open, and you remain silent, pressing your hand against your mouth, as if it would help you go unnoticed when your feet are visible under the door gap. "Y/n?" of course, there is only Ten to follow you to the toilet. He approaches the door and you see by his movements that he sits on the floor. You grimace, because you do not know how long the cleaning person has stopped washing the once white tiles.

"Ten, it's disgusting on the floor." you mumble, and hear him sigh. "What do you want? What's important enough for you to follow me into the bathroom?" you ask in a voice barely above a whisper. "I am sorry." he says, and you shake your head. This is not the first time you've found yourselves apologizing to each other after a little quarrel in the middle of the store, and you know it won't be the last time either.

"We only have one week left before Christmas, after that we won't have to see each other as much anymore. Can't we make an effort to ignore each other?" your voice is so weak, Ten feels his heart skip a beat. He never wanted the situation between the two of you to become so chaotic. He wanted nothing more than to be happy. Be happy with you.

"But- but I don't want to ignore you." Ten answers, and you get up to open the door. The boy almost rocks forward, since his forehead was pressed against the door. "Ten, you need to learn about the existence of germs on the bathrooms." he smiles weakly, and he stands up too, dusting his uniform pants. "What do you propose?" you ask, cocking your head.

"We're burying the hatchet." Ten crosses his arms against his chest, and you sigh. "Ten, we've already tried dozens of times since we broke up, and it always comes back to the same scenario. It's useless."

For the first time since they broke up, you do not pull back when he puts his hand on your arm. "But we can try. For real this time. We were friends before we were a couple, maybe we can be again?" there is so much hope in his voice, and in his eyes, that you can't afford to deny him anything. "We can try." you finally say, and Ten's smile is so bright that you could almost be blinded.

"Perfect! So will you come with me to the party my parents are hosting for Christmas Eve?" he asks, and this time, you pull back at his touch, and you clench your fist to punch him in the shoulder. He whines loudly and you refrain from not doing it again. "You asshole! Why are you doing this to me?" Every year, the Lee family host a Christmas Eve party. It's always lavish, with beautiful decorations, and exquisite food. You loved spending Christmas Eve with Ten's family. So reminding you that you will not be attending this year hurts.

"But I'm serious!" he explains by rubbing his shoulder. He takes a step back to make sure he doesn't get another hit, he knows you all too well. "You are invited." you frown as you dig your hands into the pockets of your pants. "We are not together anymore, why would you parents invite me?" for a moment Ten looks embarrassed, and he is unable to meet your gaze. "Ten, what are you hiding from me?" he hops from one foot to the other, and you are ready to ask him if he feels like pissing when he opens his mouth to explain. "It may well be that I didn't tell my parents we broke up."

"But why Ten? You told me you did! It's been months now." the fact that he is embarrassed is at least a good thing, he is still human. "I was going to do it, I promise, but my mom started talking about the party, and hse said she missed you and really can't wait to see you. You know how much my mom adores you, I didn't want to break her heart!"

It's really mean to include his mother and her love for you in the story, because he knows you considered Ten's mother like your own when you first met her. "I'll tell them everything after the holidays, I promise! If you come, I'll never ask you anything again, and I'll disappear if that's what you want."

"I hate you, Ten." even though it's a phrase he doesn't like to hear, he knows you do not mean it. At least that's what he hopes, because he doesn't know what he would do if you really hated him. "So?" he asks in a whisper, and you roll your eyes. "I'll come, but this will be the last time I do anything for you. Anything, do you hear me?"

He nods, and he smiles once more. "Good, very good! We'll take my car, and I won't carge you for your share of the gasoline, don't worry." he is so excited that you start to feel the excitement too, but you do not show him, no. You walk to the bathroom door, it's time for you to get back to work, but before you leave, you turn to Ten. "I need my day tomorrow, so I'll let you tell the boss you're going to use your day off to replace me."

The following week is the calmest week you've had since breaking up with Ten. You meet in the store, but you ignore each other. Well, you ignore him every time he tries to talk to you, it's much better than insulting him until he resigns himself to being silent. And when Christmas Eve comes, you wonder if you really made the right decision by agreeing to follow Ten. And pretend to be his partner again.

You wait outside your apartment for Ten to arrive, your hands in the pockets of your coat, and your face niched in your scarf. The cold wind is whipping your face, and the snow have started to fall on the city which is festive with the fairy lights, the decorated trees in the streets, and the laughter of the locas who are eager to come home and celebrate Christmas Eve.

Thanks to Ten, you were able to get out of work early, and also, you won't be spending Christmas on your own. That's the only positive things you can find in this strange situation. Even your friends have told you to text Ten and cancel, they all think it's bad, and they think it will do them more harm than good. And you understand them, you too wonder what will happen after the party is over, once you have to go back to your routine without each other.

But that's life, and sometimes you have to make sacrifices to avoid hurting the people you love, you think with a sigh.

When you feel ready to freeze in place, Ten's car pulls up in front of you, and you huff. Finally. He gets out of the car, and he opens the door. Seeing him do that make you roll your eyes. "I can open a door." you mumble, and when he lifts his big shining eyes, you sigh. "You'll catch a cold, Tennie." he shakes his head, and you get in the car.

You feel a weight being lifted from your shoulder as your warm up, and Ten watches you, smiling when you take off your gloves. "You want a photo, it'll last longer." you say, and he shrugs. "I'm just glad to see you." yeah, you don't believe that lie, he must already be playing his part not to be caught off guard in front of his parents.

Ten starts the engine, and begins to drive out of town. "I had my mom on the phone earlier, she is excited to see you, and so is my dad." you hum. "Me too, I really missed them." Ten's lower lip juts out, and you avoid looking at him, he knows you are weak when he acts like that. But not tonight, no. "Ten, don't forget your promise. We can't do this at every family reunion, you know that, it'll only hurt more every time.

"Yes I know, and I will, I promised, didn't I?" you nod, and you turn your head towards the window. You watch the landscape gently getting cover by a thin layer of white snow as you approach the countryside. You love the city, yes, but you would love to be able to land in the countryside, and have a simple life, far from the hustle and bustle of the city.

The rest of the road is silent, and you slowly fall asleep, you head against the window, rocked by the vibrations. It's Ten's hand on your shoulder that wakes you up. He is out in the car, and you notice that it is now dark outside. You stand up, yawning. "We're here." he says. The Lee family house is impressive, and decorated with lights. It is really beautiful, and you expected no less from Mrs. Lee whose favorite holiday is Christmas.

You get your bag and get out of the car. Your legs are numb, so you take Ten's arm to avoid tripping in the snow. Yeah, that would be fun, but you do not really want to soil your clothes now. Maybe later. You stop in front of the door, and Ten turns to you. "Ready?" and when you nod, he knocks on the door.

It only takes a minute for the door to open on Ten's mother. She looks at the both of you, and she smiles with a sweetness all her own. "My loves, how happy I am to see you! Come in or you'll get sick." Ten lets you pass, and when you enter, you are immediately engulfed in a hug. You melt, you can't help it. You feel like coming home, and god damn your heart hurt at the realization.

Ten clears his throat, and you refrain from laughing. When Mrs. Lee lets you take a step back, you both turn to the boy who frowns. "Impatient." his mother says before taking him in her arms in turn, for a shorter moment. You are pretty proud of it. "Come into the living room, the guests have already arrived."

You follow her into the living room, and you greet the guests. You and Ten have been together for a few years, so you know all of the family and friends who are used to being invited every year. "Ah, the lovers have arrived!" his father says, and you nod. You put the gifts you brought in your bag at the foot of the three, and you smile. You had a great time looking for the perfect gifts.

Immediately, you are taken aside by Ten's sister who is surprised to see you here. She is the only one in this room, besides Ten himself, who knows about your situation. Because yes, maybe you were drunk one night and called her, crying to complain about the ordeal your life had been like since breaking up with Ten. Tern is younger, but she is quite scary, so you hardly swallow your saliva when she comes face to face with you.

"What is this mess?" she asks in a whisper. "Did you get back together?" you worry your lower lip, giving Ten a furtive glance, he seems to be in the middle of a heated discussion with his father, and you shake your head. "Ten didn't say anything to your parents, so he asked me to come over, so as not to break the holiday spirit." you mumble, and if the Lee family was not there, you know Tern would go and slap her brother right away.

"You both are idiots." Tern says, and you shoulders slup. "Are you masochistic or what? Do you like hurting yourself?" you do not know what to say, you are just here to help Ten. "I know it's not the right thing to do, but it's Christmas Eve, so I'm going to pretend it's okay, smile, laugh, and be happy beofre I go back everyday life without Ten."

Tern sighs, tilting her head. "Is that what you want?" she asks before resuming. "Go back to a life without Ten? Because a person who has no more feelings would never agree to help their ex." That's the question, you don't know how you feel, your head is empty and your heart is a mess, it's been like this since Ten left. So you shrug. "I don't know Tern."

As you are about to speak, you are called out by Ten's mother who beckons you to approach. "Come help me in the kitchen for a minute, please." you nod, apologizing to Tern before joining her. There's nothing more to do, so you frown. "It's the only way to have some time with you without Ten jumping on you." she explains, and you can't help but laugh. "He learned to behave in public, don't worry."

"Is everything okay?" Ten's mother asks, and you nod. She looks worried, and for a second, you feel ready to tell her everything, but you can't, you promised Ten, and as he said himself, he doesn't want to hurt her, and neither do you. Not tonight anyway. "I'm asking because it's been a while since we've last seen you."

You nod. It's true that before, you used to visit the Lee family a couple of times each month, even though Ten was busy at work, and even more during the month of December, used to help Mrs. Lee prepare Christmas Eve. But being convinced that Ten had warned his parents, you did not do it anymore, you found it inappropriate.

"I was overwhelmed with work, I'm so sorry. But it's true that I should at least give given you a call." you explain in a weak voice, and the older woman shakes her head, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You have a job, you have a life, you have you own family, so you don't have to apologize for not having time. I get it, I was your age once."

You blame yourself more and more for the pain you are going to cause her, but you bite the inside of your cheek. Sometimes things don't go as planned, and you have to adapt. "And with Ten, is everything going well?" the question you would have liked to avoid. But you smile. "Everything is not perfect every day, but we both make an effort, because our relationship deserves it." Ten's mother smiles, she is proud to hear that her son has matured enough to do whatever it takes to keep his relationship healthy, and going.

"Don't hesitate to tell me if he crosses the line, then I'll give him a piece of my mind, believe me!" you laugh softly. You know that Mrs. Lee is, and will always be, there to help you. At least for now. But you need to stop thinking about the future, and focus on the present. You need to enjoy this last night you have with your surrogate family. "Thank you Ms. Lee, I appreciate that."

When she offers to return to the living room so as not to worry the guests, you follow her. Ten is still talking with his father, but the conversation seems to have calmed down, and you are happy. You know that the two men are used to arguing, and you have witnessed some rather disturbing scenes already, and you do not want that to happen again. You do not want to have to pick up Ten again.

"Everything okay?" you jump when Ten comes up behind you, and you turn to him. His cheeks are flushed, and you pursue your lips to stifle a laugh. "Don't tell me, your grandmother's friend?" he shakes his head with a poud, he doesn't like it when old little ladies pull his cheeks, it hurts. "My poor child. Maybe she'll stop someday."

"When she is in a coffin, yeah." Ten mumbles, and you put your hand over your mouth. "Don't say such things, Tennie!" you giggle and he smiles. He likes to be the reason for your laughter. "But to answer your question, yes, everything is fine. Your sister was a little surprised to see me here, but outside of that, like clockwork!"

Ten nods, and takes a sip from his glass of wine. He looks around him. The three, the decorations, his family, their friends, and you, and for a minute, he completely forgets that things are not the same as last year. Nothing is as before, everything is only an act. And when he turns his head towards you, and sees the lights of the tree reflected in your eyes, he thinks to himself that maybe, it was not a good idea.

See, you and Ten had a long relationship. You are his first love, and he always hoped that you would be his last. And to be honest, he still hopes so. But he knows that despite everything that has happened, all the insults you have exchanged, it would take very little time for him to fall in love again. No, he wouldn't need time at all, he is still in love, he always will be, he knows it deep down inside of him. And seeing you here, acting as your girlfriend, knowing that you'll probably never will be again, hurts like a bitch.

You think the same, and it hurts you too, but you both have too much pride to say it.

You then meet around the table, enjoying a fabulous feast prepared by Mrs. Lee. That's what you'll missed the most, the food. Ten is next to you, and every now and then, he leans in to whisper a joke in your ear. It's a tradition that you have, you try to make the other laugh, and get all eyes on yourself, knowing that it will be too inappropriate for you to say the joke out loud. At least some things are not changing.

You honestly can't remember the last time you had such a good time with Ten without it ending in an argument. What you do not notice is Tern's gaze. She watches you both, frowning. She can read between the lines. She knows that you still love each other, but are also too stupid to admit it.

The meal stretches over two hours, and when you finish, a full stomach, and ready to explode, it's time to open the presents. You get up from your chair and collect the packages. You give one to Ten's parents, one to Tern, and the last one, you hand it to Ten who titls his head. "You didn't have to, you know." he says in a whisper, and you shrug. "I know, but I got it before.. well before you know what."

Ten also gives you a present, and you arch an eyebrow at him. "I didn't want to see you pout thinking I forgot about you." he mumbles, and you smile. You open the present, and sigh. Inside is your favorite book, but not just any, the very first edition. It's old, rare, and probably extremely expensive. "Ten.." you whisper, and the boy smiles. "I know you've always dreamed of it."

What makes your heart beat a little faster is not that he gave you the book, but that he remembered it, because you only mentioned it once almost two years ago. Perhaps accusing him of never paying attention was wrong, now that you think about it. "Thank you so much Ten, you have no idea how happy this makes me." you lean over, and place a tender kiss on his cheek. And when you take a step back, you notice the rosy tint on Ten's cheeks. Cute.

"Come on, open yours!" Ten nods a minute later, the poor man needs to recover from the sudden physical contact first, then, he unwraps his present. If there is ont think Ten loves more than himself, and you, it's his watch. His father gave him his own watch for his 18th birthday, and it quickly became his most precious item, and unfortunately, he broke it a few months ago.

He thought it was irreparable, but nothing is ever irreparable, so you grabbed it one morning, and sent it over to have it fixed. It's not much for you, but when you see the tears in Ten's eyes, you knows that it was a perfect idea. "I thought I lost it." he says under his breath, and you shake your head. "I took it from you, wanted to surprise you, but I didn't expect it to take that long. I'm really sorry if I worried you."

Ten shakes his head, and he wipes his tears with his free hand, before a smile spreads over his beautiful face. "This deserves a kiss!" Ten's mother exclaims, and you hear Tern sigh loudly. "Mom, don't embarrass them." you are grateful for Ten, but you have to do it. So once more you take a step forward, and you cup Ten's face, and your face meet in the middle for a long, and soft kiss. Yeah, maybe you wanted to kiss him too. And for a while now.

"How beautiful young love is!" one person comments, and you smile weakly. Ten does the same, and you help him put the watch around his wrist. "Thank you, thank you. I don't think I will ever have enough words to thank you. It's the most perfect present." he says in a long sigh, and you smile. "I knew how much you cared about this watch." you run your fingers through Ten's hair to pull it out of his face, and realize how easy it is for you to fall back on your old habits.

The rest of the evening goes well.

You sit on the couch with Ten, and you listen to the stories the family members are telling, laughing every now and then, but you can't really focus with the heat radiating from Ten's body. Proximity in your hands. It would be so easy to take his hand, or rest your head on his shoulder.

Why the hell not, you think, it's Christmas, and you are supposed to be acting, so might as well make the most of it. You rest your head on Ten's shoulder, and if he is suprised, he doesn't show it, he lands a kiss on the top of your head. You feel his shoulders relax and you smile. You always have the same calming effect on each other. True love, but you refuse to think about it.

It's getting late, and you can't seem to suppress a long yawn, Ten notices. He stands up and you pout at the sudden lack of contact, and you sit up. "We're going to go mom, we still have a way to go, and it's snowing again." she nods, albeit a little sad, but she knows it would be too dangerous for Ten to drive if he is tired, of if there is too much snow.

"Thank you for coming, my loves, it made me very happy." once again, you find yourself engulfed in a long her that you give back with pleasure. And you thank her and Ten's father again and again for the invitation. And in a few minutes, you find yourself in front of the car. Tern follows closely behind you, and before Ten gets into the car, she puts her hand on his shoulder to take him aside. "Take care of yourself, and your heart, okay?"

Ten nods. "Don't worry, I know what to do to keep my heart safe." he looks at you to see if you heard him, but no, you are half asleep on the seat, and you would not even hear if a bomb were to explode near your ear. "Really, don't worry." he places a kiss on his sister's cheek, and he gets into the car after making sur the passenger door is closed. You collapsed into the seat, your new book clutched to your chest.

"It was a very good evening. You family is amazing." you say, and Ten can only agree. "You are right. Thank you for coming." you smile and lean your head against the window. You do not want to fall asleep, you want to enjoy your last moments with Ten, but unfortunately, fatigue quickly gets the better of you, and when you open your eyes, the car is already parked in front of your apartment complex.

"Thanks for taking me home, and thanks again for the book." you lean in to kiss the corner of his lips, but before Ten can say anything, you get out of the car. He opens the window, and you turns to him. "Have a good night, Ten." his fingers tighten around the steering wheel, and you see that he wants to say something, but he holds back. "Good night Y/n, and merry Christmas."

You walk towards the door that leads to the lobby, but the sound of the door opening and closing catches your attention. You turn around and find Ten in front of the car. You embrace your body with your arms to fight against the cold. "What are you doing, Ten?" you ask, and the boy finally approaches. He's so close you can feel his breath against your lips. "Would you like to go have coffee tomorrow? And maybe we can go check out the Christmas lights."

You smile, and you nod. "I would love this, Ten." his smile is as bright as the moon, and you chuckle softly when he places a small kiss on your lips before heading back to his car, not without a victory move that almost makes him trip in the snow.

It’s Christmas Eve. It’s the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer, we smile a little easier, we cheer a little more. For a couple of hours out of the whole year, we are the people that we always hoped we would be.

And maybe sometimes, you can decide to stay that kind of people.

#cznnet #nct #wayv #nct imagines #wayv imagines #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios

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goldenmaybank · 4 years

Text

no strings ~ scout’s writing challenge

pairing: jj maybank x reader

summary: jj and y/n have had a no strings attached agreement for years, but that statement couldn’t be farther from the truth.

warnings: swearing, cheating, implied sex, and slight fluff

word count: 2.2k

this is my entry for @ptersparkers writing challenge! hope you all enjoy :)

no strings attached. that was the agreement we made back in freshman year. it's now junior year and that agreement still stands. no feelings involved, just pure fun, but how do you not fall for his big blue eyes and bright smile. it was only meant to be for one night, but one night soon turned into two then three and now i've lost count how many nights we've spent together. almost every night for this past year he’s slept in my bed under my silk sheets with our bodies intertwined with one another. i constantly convince myself it's nothing more than having fun but every time i hear his name i get butterflies and whenever he's near me my heart starts to beat a million times faster. i try to convince myself it's not love, but after being with someone in that way for three years it's impossible for it not to turn into that. but clearly it's possible for him at least. that's why i don't say anything and continue to hide my true feelings because i know he doesn't feel the same way as me and probably never will. i stay up every night with him on my mind and thoughts of what we could be consumes my every thought.

freshman year was the hardest of them all mainly because jj had a girlfriend at the time. i know what i did was wrong but the taste of his lips and the way he touched me that first night was so captivating. i knew from that moment i would never be able to let him go. i tried not to get sucked into him and his player ways, but soon the second night happened and from then it was history. we would meet every thursday night at my place at midnight. he was never late and it made me wonder if he craved my touch as bad as i craved his. we would walk past each other in the streets like we barely knew each other when in reality he knew every curve and mark on my body.

sophomore year was easier than the last since he no longer was with his girlfriend, but also harder because that's when i started catching feelings for him. now since he was single, we could actually be seen together, but still had to be cautious since i was a kook. i never understood the rivalry between the kooks and pogues, but i knew if any of the kooks found out i was with jj all hell would break loose. me and sarah were known as the kook princesses, and since she was dating topper, everyone expected me to date a kook too. before i met jj, i went on a few dates with rafe since thats who my parents wanted me to be with, but after realizing all kook guys are self absorbed assholes, i knew i could never be with any of them. the only kook i can tolerate is sarah, and at times she can even be blinded by the things topper tells her. a couple months into freshman year, i already started to get suffocated at the kook academy and went to the beach to escape, which is where i met kie. the moment i met her we instantly clicked and she invited me to the kegger that they were having that night. thats when i met the rest of the pogues, including jj. we spent the whole night attached at the hip drinking and laughing together. soon enough the guest room at the cheateu was filled with nothing but the sound of our moans. that was the first of many nights we spent there together.

almost every single day i would meet jj by the beach to spend time with him. whether we were surfing, hanging out on the hms pogue with the others, or eating at the wreck, i just loved being around him. although we weren't together people acted like we were. kie would always say we were unofficially official. soon enough our every thursday night meet-ups became every thursday and friday meet-ups and eventually every night meet-ups. we spent every night together at my place until my parents found out and we needed a new place, so we started hanging out at the chateau.

junior year has been the best one so far. jj and i hung out more in public not caring what anyone else would think and gone on what he calls "non-dates" even though it's exactly what dates are. he's met my younger sister and she absolutely adores him, which now makes me wish we never got our families involved in this since i know he doesn't reciprocate my feelings. i've spent so much time with him that i feel almost empty not being in his arms at night. he knows everything about me and i know everything about him. we've shared all of our secrets and deepest thoughts with each other. i've seen his vulnerable side so much that it's almost impossible for me not to fall in love with him. he's opened up to me and let me in more than anyone else in his life even his best friends. every night is something new with him and i never want it to stop even though i know inevitably it will.

"you remember the second night you stayed at my place and you got scared of my dog" i said laughing as we laid next to each other on my bed talking about our favorite memories together.

"look in my defense, your dog is huge and she woke me up out of my sleep." jj said chuckling slightly.

"she was just being friendly and you wouldn't stop screaming. almost woke up my damn parents."

"don't act like you haven't almost woken up john b before with your clumsy ass. you almost knocked over his whole desk trying to get into the room."

"i'm sorry i'm not an expert at climbing through windows like you."

"well when you've had a lot of practice you know how to." he said cockily.

"oh shut up." he laughed as i tiredly punched his arm, "you know damn well i was the first window you came through." i said sassily.

"you're right. you were."

"wait really? so jj maybank has never snuck into another girl's house before? i'm surprised."

"why?" he asked as he turns his body towards me and moves me so i face him.

"i don't know i guess with your reputation i thought you would've been with a bunch of girls before me."

"you wanna know the truth? you're the first girl i've ever slept with."

"wait what?" i sat up against the headboard looking at him confusingly, "what about your ex or all those tourons you would flirt with?"

"all we would do is flirt and make out a little, but it never went any further. either i was always drunk or they were and i never wanted that to be my first time, you know? and with my ex we were only fourteen and dated for a few months. i told you before i never really felt anything for her. it was all just so i could know what it felt like to be a boyfriend.”

“but we were only fourteen, when we..”

“i know, but it was different with you. you are different.”

"so, that means you were a virgin when we first-"

"yup." he said admittedly.

"wow. well i couldn't tell." i joked.

jj looked at me and chuckled slightly, but i could tell something was off with him. his eyes didn't have the same brightness as usual.

"what's wrong?"

"what do you mean? nothings wrong."

"jj, you can't lie to me. i've known you for way too long and i know when somethings wrong, so what's up."

"i don't know. i-" he sighs deeply as he looks at up at me, "it's just- is that what you think of me? that i'm just some player who fucks any girl that throws herself at me."

"what? no. of course not. i just assumed-"

"because that's not who i ever wanted to be." he said cutting me off, "i never wanted to be like- like my dad, you know?” he says as he looks down at his hands, fiddling with them, “as much as he claims he loved her, he treated my mom like shit. he would get drunk and mess around with a bunch of women because he could never commit. i never wanted to be like that. i never wanted to make a girl feel the way my mom felt. she was so heartbroken when he would come back home smelling of perfume and lie to her face. eventually, she had enough of it and just got up and left. kinda wish she took me with her. but i told myself i would never be like that and then i realized i was. back in freshman year when i cheated on my ex-"

"with me" i looked at him sympathetically understanding why what i said bothered him so much, "look, j you're nothing like your dad. i know i've never met him but from what you told me about him you two are completely different people. you’re nothing like that cheating, abusive asshole, okay? you're such a sweet, kindhearted person who always puts others before yourself, especially when it comes to your friends. i've never seen someone care so much about others than you. you have such a pure, kind soul and nothing will ever change that. i know you cheated on her with me and it probably wasn't the right choice, but it sure as hell wasn't a mistake and i won't call it that. being with you was never a mistake for me and i hope you feel the same about it but this" i say as i motion between us, "will never be something that i regret. i know i've said this before but i believe that this was meant to be and we were meant to find each other. the circumstance might not have been the best, but i found you and that's all that matters. you're nothing like him and never will be."

we both laid in silence looking up at the ceiling while raindrops hit the window softly. i started to wonder if maybe i said something wrong or said too much. i feel so deeply for him and whenever he tries to put himself down it breaks my heart. in my eyes he's the perfect guy despite all his faults. sometimes i think one day i'll tell him how i feel and scare him off which is the last thing i want to do. i want to be able to have these moments with him for as long as i can.

"you know, i want to get married before i have kids." jj said breaking the silence.

"that's random, but alright." i said giggling.

"i was just thinking about my parents and they had me before they even thought of marriage. i think that's where they could've went wrong. maybe if they would've taken the time to actually bound their love together before having a kid, they could've lasted longer. after they had me he could never commit fully because of all the responsibility, so maybe if they already took that step to "finalize" their love he would've stayed." he said shrugging.

"well i always wanted to have kids before i get married because i want my kids to be apart of my wedding."

"i guess we could just have two weddings then."

"huh?" i said confusingly finally looking at him.

he looks back at me and sighs, "yeah, i mean since you want one before and i want one after, we can just have two. we have the real one before and then we can renew our vows and have a second wedding with our kids so they can experience it with us."

"so, we're gonna get married and have kids?" i said smirking at him.

"i-i mean i guess. obviously only if you want to." jj said blushing as he started to look anywhere but at me.

i grab his face so he's looking at me, "i would love to, jj."

we both smile at each other as he pulls me closer to him connecting our lips. when we pull apart, i cuddle up into his chest as we continue to lie in silence. i feel my heart flutter as i feel his hands rub my back soothing me. being in his arms felt like home and i only hope he feels the same. as i start to think about how it would be if we were actually dating, the same words he would always say when we started this repeat in my mind "this is only for fun. no strings attached. no feelings. just pure fun." maybe that's all this will truly ever be, just fun, and that's the thought i have before falling asleep in his arms.

when i know she's asleep, i just stay awake and admire how she looks in the moment. even sleeping she has a slight smile on her face, which makes me wonder what she's dreaming about. sometimes i wish it was me she's dreaming about even though i know it's not. "just for fun" i remind myself of the words i said but that couldn't have been more of a lie, especially now more than ever. of course what we had was fun, but it was way more than that.

"i love you" i say as i kiss her forehead and wrap my arms tighter around her soon falling asleep as well.

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC (Female and Male POV)

Word Count: approx 3.3k

Warnings: swearing, smut,

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 19

Part 20 Final Chapter

Liam and I took it easy for the next couple of days. We spent some time with Perrin and Cole, taking them for walks and making sure they were getting along.

We watched Inglourious Basterds in Liam's theatre room, which was amazing. It was like being in an actual movie theatre. The dimmed lights and sound system made the experience great. Liam cooked me dinner. We even played Scrabble a few times. We were pretty evenly matched, so the games were competitive. We worked out. We fucked. We made love.

On Saturday morning, I woke with a sore neck. I prayed it was just a strained muscle from working out but the stress I was under during the week tended to catch up with me on a Saturday. By about 4 pm, the left side of my head started pounding, and my eyes became sensitive to light. Every sound in the house felt like screaming in my ears, and I wanted to throw up. I would have cried if I didn't already know how much worse it would make it my migraine.

I told Liam I had to go to bed. Even though my migraines were terrible, I was lucky I could usually treat them with some codeine and a few hours of sleep. They rarely last more than six hours. Liam was lovely about it. He insisted on helping me get changed for bed, and he even went and got me a cold washcloth for my head. He laid in bed with me until I fell asleep.

I woke up around 11 pm feeling groggy, but the migraine had gone. I got out of bed and went looking for Liam.

I found him asleep on the lounge under a blanket downstairs. It looked like he had planned to sleep there all night. Perrin was curled up on the blanket between Liam's legs, and Cole laid on the floor in front of the couch. Cole looked up when I came in, rubbing himself against my legs like a cat and nudging my hand for a pat. Perrin's ears came up, and his tail wagged but didn't move. Lazy old Dog.

I knelt in the spot Cole had been. Liam looked so much younger asleep, almost like a boy, since he had started shaving. Apparently, his character is clean-shaven a lot of the time, so he will be switching between being shaved and unshaved depending on filming. I didn't want to startle him, so I ran my fingers through his hair until he started to wake. Liam stretched a bit before opening his eyes, and he looked so cute doing so I almost pinched his cheeks. Perrin finally got up, realising his warm spot was compromised.

"Hey, Sweetheart," he said and looking at his watch. "Are you ok? do you need anything?"

I smiled at him and shook my head. "Just you," I said.

Liam smiled one of his full Hollywood smiles. He takes my breath away when he does that. "How's your head?"

"I haven't had any complaints," I said, winking. I think I've watched Drag Race too many times.

Liam chuckled and shook his head at me. "And you certainly won't get any from me." He said, getting up. Kissing my forehead, he said, "I'm glad you're feeling better."

I took his hand and pulled him towards the elevator. Like the gentleman he is, he pretended I was able to pull him.

We get in bed, Liam on his back and me with my head on his chest. He stroked my hair, trying to lull me to sleep. I always find it difficult to sleep at night if I have a nap in the afternoon. I was content to breathe my calming breaths and not worry about forcing the sleep I knew would eventually come.

Since sleep was alluding me, I asked Liam, "are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"Meeting your family?" I nodded. He shrugged, "a little. It's been a while since I've been introduced to the family. A couple of years, actually. But I'm mostly looking forward to it." He gave me a quick kiss. "What about you?"

"After Thursday, I don't know if I'll be nervous about anything again." Liam chuckled. "I'm a little concerned about my mum. But I'm excited about you meeting the kids. I wonder if they will recognise you."

"Sometimes, kids do. Other times they say that's not him. He doesn't have a cape." I chuckled. Liam didn't speak for a while, so I tried letting Liam's breaths rock me to sleep. Then he spoke again, "Do you want kids?"

"You know, I do," I replied. We had spoken about it when we first started talking. Not wanting kids had been a deal-breaker for both of us. It was one of the first questions he had asked once we had gotten past the superficial talk. I looked at him, puzzled. "Why?"

"When you first told me about your contraception, I thought with my dick, so naturally, I was excited about not having to wear a condom." Liam's lip twitched, "Having said that, I wouldn't mind seeing you put a condom on me again." I rolled my eyes and indicated he should keep talking. "But then I thought you got that thing put in when you were still with Andy. If it's none of my business, that's fine. I had just been thinking about it, is all."

"You're wondering why I would use such a long-lasting contraception when I was married and wanted kids."

He nodded. "That sums it up."

"Well, several reasons. I had to replace the one I had. It had expired. Second, I have Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome, and one symptom is very irregular periods. I was always scared I was pregnant. I could go months without a period, and when I did, they were hell. I would get migraines for weeks, mood swings from being happy to almost suicidal throughout my cycle. When the period came, there was bad cramping and back pain, joint pain, fatigue. So, I had my first implant when I was 20."

"That sound's awful, Sweetheart."

"Yup. I got the last one put in instead of trying for kids because I was 26. Yes, Andy and I wanted kids, but we wanted to wait a few more years, pay more off the house, grow up a bit." Liam nodded.

I was surprised that talking to him about Andy in such intimate detail didn't make me start crying. I still felt sad and missed him, but it was different now. There was a fondness to the thoughts rather than the fear and guilt that would usually arise. Anthea had been right. I had to talk with Andy and be honest with him about how I felt. As if verbalising how I felt to Andy, wherever he was in the universe, eased the guilt I was feeling. It made me realise that it wasn't wrong or selfish to seek love again. It was what made life special, sharing your life with someone else.

Liam was looking with furrowed brows. "Are you ok?" He asked.

I wondered if I should tell him what I was thinking. Would he be interested? Would it be weird for him to hear about Andy? In some ways, Andy had always been the elephant in the room. He was mentioned in passing, but other than last Friday, I hadn't told him anything meaningful about him or how I felt. He had been right when we argued, Andy was a shadow that loomed over the relationship, and that was my fault. I decided to be honest.

"Yeah, I am." I gave him a half-smile and said, "I spoke to Anthea, my mother-in-law, on Tuesday." Liam's face was unreadable. Too late to stop now. I kept going. "I wanted her to hear from me that we were dating before it was official. It turns out she already knew. She was cool about it, happy for me. I was surprised by her response, and I thought she would think it was a betrayal. But she said I should talk to Andy, and I would feel better."

Liam still wasn't showing me what he was thinking. His face was stoic. I thought again, I should stop. "Keep going," he said, his voice not much louder than a whisper.

"So I visited Andy and told him about how I was feeling. I told him about you and how I felt about you. It seemed to work like a weight was lifted from my shoulders. I felt free."

Liam was quiet for a while. I could almost see him arranging his thoughts. After a while, he said, "it seems the only one who makes you feel guilty is you."

"I think that was true, but not anymore," I said. "Are you upset I told you that? Is it... I don't know... tmi?"

Liam gave me a half-smile, "no, Lana. I'm glad you told me. I'm glad you did that. Not just for me, but for you."

"Then why were you looking at me like that?"

Liam's smile was full now. "Because I thought you were going to break my heart. Instead, you told me something private and because you wanted to. Not because I forced you or put you in a position where you had no choice. It makes me believe you may care about me as much as I care about you."

I cupped his face in my hands and looked deeply into his eyes, so he knows what I'm saying is true. "Liam, I do care about you. I don't think anyone else could have opened my heart. I was ready to go the rest of my life alone. If it weren't for you, I would never have taken those final steps to move on. For being the catalyst I needed, I will always be thankful for you and care about you."

Liam POV

Lana held my face in her hands. Her green eyes shined in the dim light of my bedroom as she spoke to me. "Liam, I do care about you. I don't think anyone else could have opened my heart. I was ready to go the rest of my life alone. If it weren't for you, I would never have taken those final steps to move on. For being the catalyst I needed, I will always be thankful for you and care about you."

My heart stopped a moment before it started to thunder in my chest. Lana so rarely bared her soul to me. She dropped hints sometimes, said little things to make me believe she could love me. But too often she was closed off when things get too intimate or too real.

She had changed so much since I first spoke to her, yet somehow she was still the same. She was kind and generous. I picked up on that early. That she was so funny and witty was something that she was slow to reveal but was a joy to watch. Watching her start to open her soul to me was beautiful. To see her courage and strength as she pushed through her grief was inspiring. That she saw enough in me to want to go through all she went through was humbling.

I loved her. I was desperate to tell her. I almost told her so many times. But my fear kept me from saying it. I didn't want to scare her off. I knew now she has to set the pace. She will be ready when she's ready and I will be there when she is.

Lana kissed me, and my body lit up. Her lips were like a match igniting a fire that travelled through my whole body. I instantly grew hard and needed her. I kissed her back, my tongue licking at her lips, urging her to open for me. When she did, I was lost, and all control left me. I needed to be in her.

My tongue entered her mouth, and her taste reminded me of apples and honey. She tasted so sweet to me. I wanted to taste her everywhere. I rolled her onto her back, reminding myself not to throw her around too roughly. She could take a lot of punishment, but I was still careful.

I sought Lana with my hands, pulling off the underwear that separated me from her. I put my hand between her legs, and my fingers parted her. I groaned when I felt how wet she was already, and I had to taste her. I moved between her legs as she opened them wide for me.

I put two fingers inside her, and my cock ached. "You're so warm, Lana," I told her, and she moaned, arching her back, her hips moving as I fucked her with my fingers. She was so responsive to my touch, and I loved watching her every movement. Her body moved in the most spectacular ways, writhing and seeking her pleasure.

I couldn't wait any longer for a taste, so leaving my fingers inside her, I let my tongue find her clit. When her taste hit my tongue, I hummed with delight. Lana's fingers slid into my hair as she pushed me into her and her hips rocked as she grinds herself on my tongue. God, she was so sexy. I wanted to stay here forever, watching her and listening to her moan. I ran my hand up her hips to her tiny waist. Feeling her hips under her soft skin was so erotic. I needed to fuck her, but she needed this first.

Lana started panting, her moans became short cries as she exhaled and I knew she didn't have long. I felt her walls close in on my fingers as she started to cry out my name, begging me not to stop. As if I would deny her this. As if I would deny her anything.

When Lana came, she was beautiful. Her eyes closed hard, her body convulsed, and her thighs trembled. Then she did this thing where she throws her head forward, and her body almost curls into a ball, and I know she's finished. Even when she's standing up she does it, I almost dropped her the first time. It's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen.

I lapped at her one more time, taking one last taste. She shuddered and tried to close her legs, giggling. She smiled at me, and my heart melted, but my cock was in pain. I needed to have her.

I kissed her, and she licked at me, tasting herself. She drives me wild when she does that. I felt like an animal, my careful control was gone, and I pushed my cock into her. She was so wet and tight, her body moulded around my cock, taking me all in, holding me so tight I almost came.

"Fuck," I swore into her mouth. Lana bit at my lip, playful, but I knew what that meant. She wanted me, and she didn't want me to be gentle.

I wasn't gentle. There was no way I could be. She had me too worked up, and all I wanted was to own her and claim her as mine forever. I started to thrust into her, her tits bouncing as she takes all I give her. Her lips were parted, and her cheeks were red. Her hair looked like a halo of fire on the sheets. Its vibrance thrilled me. I pushed my self off her and watched as my cock pumped into her. Seeing her stretched around me, I felt my orgasm rise again. Not yet. I wasn't done with her yet. I slowed down.

"Liam," She whispered my name, and there was no stopping it. My body took on a mind of its own, driving itself to release. She cried my name again as I felt my seed rise into me, and ecstasy flowed through me as it pumped into her.

I fell on my side next to Lana and took deep breaths. She gave a hum of contentment and I pulled her into me, hugging her tightly and I felt the surge of love again. She was so beautiful and sweet but so fucking sexy. She made me feel drunk. Even moments after orgasming, I wanted her again. I put my face into her hair, smelling her sweet pomegranate shampoo. Lana hugged me back as she played with my chest hair, and I smiled, she loved to touch me there, and it felt so good when she did.

My mind wandered as she caressed me with her pretty little hands and pink fingernails. The first time she had touched my chest, she had seemed so hesitant and unsure, even looking at me for permission. It had been such a turn-on.

It had been so hard not to fuck her that first night. I did try and seduce her. I knew what effect I had on women. It's hard not to know when you're famous and have women hitting on you all the time. I think I could have, there were a few times there where if I had played my cards right she would have let me. But knowing what I know now, I'm happy I didn't. I'm sure she would have run, and I would never have seen her again.

When she did let me, she had knocked me for six when she bit me. It was almost out of nowhere, and the way she opened up to me after about her desires was amazing. We still had so much to explore, only just getting to know each other sexually. I could tell she was getting more comfortable with it. She was probably going to teach me a thing or two. That thing she did with the condom, I think I almost told her I loved her then. I chuckled.

"What are you laughing at?" Lana asked. Her accent made it sound like she said, "whadcha laughn at?" I don't know why, but her accent excited me, especially when she swore at me. Her mouth was filthy. Maybe it was the combination of her outward elegance and her potty mouth that I liked. It was such an exciting combination.

"Nothing, Sweetheart." I kissed her long neck gently and held her. She seemed to accept it and squeezed me into her.

"I love you, Lana," I said, and my heart stopped. She froze. I don't even think she was breathing. My blood was like ice as my heart started to beat again. Oh, God, I fucked up. I'm going to lose her this time. I wanted to take it back. I was such a fool. Fuck.

Then Lana found my mouth and kissed me. The warmth that spread through my body was such a relief. Her kiss held such sweetness and passion. It was the promise that I needed. She wasn't mad. She wasn't going to run away. I held her close and kissed her back. She didn't have to say it for me to know that she loved me too.

End.

#original character #original story #original fiction #romantic story #happy ever after

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pink-peony-princess · 4 years

Text

Fight for You

"Why do people do this to themselves?" I shouted to Shawn and Peter over the roar of the crowd as Raul's fist made contact with his apponents cheek- a sickening crack ringing out around the cramped room."It's barbaric!"

"It's actually quite ordered," Peter counted, eyes not leaving the action. "There's more that they can't do than they can."

"I still think it's stupid," I grumbled, before jumping and slapping my hands over my eyes as Raul copped a nasty hit to his chest.

The only reason I'd come to see the fight was to support Raul I'd been friends with the Triplets since we were about 5, having immediately hit it off with them on the first day of preschool. We'd been inseperable since, but I'd always had a soft spot for Raul,we just seemed to get each other- and he was always so protective of me.

In middle school he'd punched Jacob Connor's out (the resident bully) when he'd somehow found out I'd started my period and spread it around the school like wildfire. Raul had been given a 5 day suspension for it, but he'd always maintained that 'it was worth it, the little weasel got what he deserved.'

As we grew we only got closer,we were each other's confidant, the one person who we trusted with all our secrets, or biggest dreams and our deepest fears. That didn't stop us going through the awkward phase where you realise that maybe you like the other person, but are too much of a scaredy-cat to do anything about it.

Everyone could see it, my friends at school, Peter and Shawn, even my parents told me I should do something about it.

"Don't fret, Kara, your boy will be fine," Shawn laughed teasingly looking down at me bring me back to the present. The boys towered over me at 6'2 they were well over a head taller than me.

"How can you say that?He's your brother," I was appalled. They had absolutely no concern for the fact that their brother, their triplet no less was being pummelled like a car at a junk yard.

"Because," Shawn continued. "It might not look like it, but Raul has the upper hand, he's more agile on his feet, can move faster than the baffoon he's facing,"

I couldn't help but laugh at the description. Compared to Raul,the guy he was versing really did look like a monkey.

Despite the fact that ever fibre of my being wanted nothing more than to go up there and rescue him, I couldn't help but watch in awe as Raul served punch after stratigic punch to his apponents, before finally the referee called time and he was declared the winner.

"You know he does it for you," Peter spoke.

"Does what?" I asked confused.

"Fights, he fights for you, to impress you."

"Don't be stupid," I rolled my eyes, but I was stunned, was he really doing it for me? Why did he feel he needed to impress me?

"I'm going to the toilet," I called to Peter as people started slowly filing out the doors, satisfied with the gratuitous violence they'd witnessed, now no-doubt board.I needed some air,space to think.

As I made my way slowly towards the doors, being all but pushed,forced by the sheer numbers of people baring down on me I started to regret not asking one of the boys to accompany me.

This side of town wasn't exactly known as a safe haven and I wasn't even sure where I needed to go.

And Raul's words of warning 'never go anywhere this side of town without one of us,' rang through my head, as I made my way out into the alley behind the delapidated building and into the night air which was full of the smell of stale cigarette smoke.

"Hey there pretty," a group of guys yelled as I walked past, before wolf whistling. I shuddered and picked up my pace, reaching for my bag that was across my body to try and call one of the boys. I no longer felt safe, in fact I was starting to panic, my hands shaking as I dug blindly through my small purse trying to find my cell. In my haste and in attention, I failed to noticed a massive dip in the run down concrete and before I had a chance to correct it,my foot was falling in, my ankle twisting as I fell heavily to the ground. My hands stung as they made harsh contact with the gravel covered floor.

I sat there for a minute dazed, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry. Why did this have to happen now? Why not when I was with the guys? I wondered, a few tears leaking from my eyes I scrubbed them away angrily trying to get up, but to no avail. It was useless. I knew I needed help, but I wasn't sure how to get it, there was no way I was going to ask the men down the street for help.

"Kara? Is that you," I looked up with a sigh of relief immediately recognising the voice and he tall figure. It was Raul, making his way out from behind the building,bag slung over his shoulder,still covered in a sheen of sweat, his muscle top sticking to his chest highlighting his toned physique.

"What happend, why aren't you with Shawn and Peter?" he asked jogging down the street and dumping his bag in the ground before bending down in front of me.

"I got lost," I sighed. I tried to move my ankle which was now throbbing,wincing as a sharp, white-hot pain shot through my foot.

"I'll kill those dimwits," he growled as he looked at me.

"Don't blame them, it was me. I went to find a toilet and I didn't ask one of them to come with me," I explained,my voice shaky from pain and fear.

"How could you be so stupid!" he yelled surprising me. He looked livid."How many times have I told you," he hissed shaking his head, reaching for my foot, but I yanked it away despite the instant ache of protest it gave off. If he was going to be a sick, I didn't want his help,I felt bad enough already.

"Why are you being such a fucking asshole?You know what, don't worry, I'll find my own way home," I spat,tears running down my cheeks unchecked as I glared at him. I struggled to get up, using the wall behind me as support, but eventually made it. As soon as I put weight on my foot though I collapsed. The firey ache that started instantly was now worse than ever.

"I'm sorry," he puffed out. "I'm just worried I'd hate for you to get hurt,I love you," he whispered the last part, by I heard it. It took everything in my power to stay calm,it wasn't like I didn't know it, but I'd never expected him to admit it.

"I am hurt," I replied cooly, pointing to my foot.

"More hurt," he amended his eyes going dark,the grim look on his face didn't make it hard to guess what he was thinking and I shuddered.

"I'm going to take the shoe off," he told me, working quicky but carefully to release my foot from the confines of the heel I'd been wearing.

I couldn't help the hiss that left my lips as it finally feel free.

"Sorry," he apologised softly, much calmer than before. "It's already swelling," he commented as he took the foot in his hand and carefully manipulated it.

"I don't think you've torn anything, but I'll wrap it to make sure," he nodded to himself, unzipping the bag he'd discarded beside me and pulling what looked like strapping tape out.

"How do you know so much?" I asked as he took my foot in his hands again, very carefully wrapping the fabric around it, before pulling it tight. I could feel it throbbing,but I said nothing, not wanting to complain. It did feel better than it had before, but I knew by the time I made it home it'd need to be iced.

"Honey you learn this stuff when you fight, you have to fiend for yourself," he responded,"There all done," he added as he admired his work.

"Give me your hand," he spoke.

"What?"

"Your hands, they're bleeding."

"Ohh," I held my hands out for him to take. He tipped some water onto them which stung like hell, and wrapped them, before placing a kiss on each of my knuckles, causing me to blush. It was lucky it was dark and dimly lit because I knew that itlf he'd noticed he would have teased the daylights out of me.

"Thank you," I took his hand that he was holding out and let him pull me up, leaning into him instinctively.

"No worries, wouldn't want an invalid walking around town now, it'd ruin the street cred," he winked, causing me to laugh. This was the side of Raul that I was used to, the cheeky, unapologetically flirty, protective Raul.

"Nah really, of course I'd look after you, you're my favourite girl," he kissed my forehead as we made our way to find the others at which point Raul promptly chewed out their ears about the dangers of leaving me alone and their completely mind-blowing stupidity which had them both looking extremely guilty.

It was quickly forgotten though as we went on to celebrate his victory, Raul never leaving my side,checking every so often that I was okay, even going so far as to find pain killers for me which helped a heap.

"Thank you," I told him again as we piled into a taxi- Peter already having gone home and Shawn still partying. Normally Raul was the party animal, but he'd insisted he go home with me to make sure I got there in one piece.

It wasn't like I was going to say no, I appreciated the sweet gesture.

"Don't sweat it. You're my girl," he answered, kissing me again, but this time on the lips momentarily stunning me.

"And you're my boy," I giggled,beaming.

"So how about we make this official?" he suggested, that cheeky grin that I loved so much present again.

"I thought you'd never ask," I responded, reaching up to kiss him again.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagines #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes blurb #doctor!shawn #mendes triplets #werewolf!shawn

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lauwrite1225 · 3 years

Text

Somebody to die for.

Finan x OC; The Old Guard inspired Alternative Universe

Summary : Victoria's life is rather simple until she has a car accident from which she ends up miraculously unscathed. A series of weird events animates her daily life, everything seemingly bringing her to a strange man. Until this very man knocks at her door.

Spotify Playlist • Masterlist

A/N : And there it is, the first chapter of this fic I have been working on for a few weeks now! I'll post every Friday! A very BIG thank you too @maggiescarborough for all her precious help and thanks to whom this is story is way better than originally ahah!

Warnings : mention of blood and death

Chapter 1 : I'm fallin' so I'm takin' my time on my ride

“Vicky you shouldn’t drive home so late.”

Victoria sighs as she climbs down the few stairs from her parents’ house down to the garden, her mother following her close. It’s dark and the motion detector activates the outdoor light, making the little path leading to where she parked her car more visible.

“Stay for the night at least, you can leave early.” Her mother insists, arms crossed upon her chest to protect herself from the cold.

“I can’t mom.” She unlocks her car, throwing her bag on the passenger seat before turning around and leaning against the door. “I have to open the shop tomorrow and I don’t want to be late if there’s too many people on the road.”

“That’s not safe, Vicky.”

“Come on, mom, it’s not the first time I’m driving during the night.” She exhales, sitting in the car and starting it. “I’ll text you when I’m home.” She smiles, ignoring her mother’s eye roll and closing the door.

She slowly drives away from her parents' house, an old house lost in the middle of Essex. Her mother wasn't wrong about the risk of driving during the night on country roads, but Vicky took this road so many times, she's not really worried. She turns on the radio and turns the sound up when she recognizes the melody of Ride by Twenty one Pilots. Her fingers tap the steering wheel in rhythm with the drum, her head nodding regularly. She knows that song by heart and can't resist singing the lyrics as she drives in the direction of London.

After half an hour of driving, a heavy rain is now falling, Vicky starts to regret not having listened to her mother. She woke up early this morning to be in time for the family lunch her parents have been harassing her about for a month. She yawns, her hand passing through her blond hair as she drives on a small quite deserted road. She tries to turn up the music louder to not fall asleep, but inevitably, her head starts to nod and her eyelids grow heavier. She closes her eyes, just one second, but when she opens them again, she’s blinded by the headlights of another car in front of her. Panicked, she hits the brake with all her strength, a slew of insults escaping her lips. The person in the vehicle in front seems to do the same and swerves. But inevitably, the two cars meet and the shock makes Vicky’s head hit the steering wheel violently.

For a long moment, it’s just darkness and silence and Victoria finds it awkwardly peaceful. She feels weak and out of her body, the strangest feeling she has ever felt. She can’t tell how long she’s been that way but suddenly it vanishes. She’s overwhelmed by all her senses who awaken at the same time. She panics, the feeling of her heart beating resounding in her whole body and the air painfully filling her lungs. She abruptly opens her eyes, straightening until the back of her head hits the car seat.

It takes her a few minutes to calm her breath and to realize where she is, morning’s light blinding her. She’s still in her car, the windshield broken in a million pieces dispersed everywhere. She quickly notices the blood on the steering wheel and her clothes and immediately she brings her fingers to her forehead and indeed she finds fresh blood, but no wound. It should have reassured her, however it horrifies her. She tries to open the door and has to force it to finally leave the car. In the process, she falls on the floor and crawls to move away from the vehicle. The sleeves of her shirt are torn and stained with blood, but again, she’s perfectly healthy. Her confusion makes her sick and she leans on a side to throw up, her whole body shaking with a long thrill.

Once her stomach is emptied she starts to look around her, now that there’s daylight she is able to see the fields that expand as far as the eye can see. She’s alone on this road, with her car with smoke coming out of the hood and absolutely no sign of the other vehicle. She stands on her feet, her legs shaking, and walks a little further to see if there’s anyone.

“They fucking left me alone.” She grumbles as she realizes she really was utterly alone.

She walks back to her car and grabs her bag and jacket before searching her phone. When she finally has a hand on it, she sighs of relief. Though it doesn’t last long as she discovers how the screen is cracked.

“New car and new phone it is, then.” Victoria speaks to herself, more to try to stay calm than anything. Fortunately, it’s still working but she realises right after that there's no signal. “Obviously.”

She looks around her one last time before facing the facts, she has to walk back home. She fills her bag with the important papers stacked in her car before walking away. After a quarter hour of walking, she starts to recognize where she is and estimates she should arrive in a village in another quarter hour. This time alone gives her the occasion to try to understand what happened last night. She obviously got into a car accident and the other person involved let her on her own, didn't even try to search for help, it is morning now, in six hours at least, if they left to find help, they should have already been back. No, they left her on her own as if she was dead.

Victoria stops, the thought troubling her. She can't explain what she felt after the accident, she has already fainted a few times in her life, and it has never been like this before. But what is even more troubling, is that she's perfectly healthy, not even a scratch despite the blood she found on her clothes and in the car. Nothing is making sense.

She covers her face with both of her hands, then rubs her eyes as waking up from a bad dream. But she's still in the middle of a road, in the middle of nowhere.

“What the hell?!” She shouts, frustrated by so much incomprehension.

She continues to walk, she wipes the blood from her face before she reaches the village and puts her jacket on to hide the state of her clothes. She has no idea of what happened and she definitely doesn't want to have to explain it to anyone. She finishes her way home with public transports, and it's past midday when she arrives in London. She gets a few messages, from her boss and even more from her mother. She sends excuses to her boss with a lie and another lie to her mother, saying she fell asleep and forgot to text her before.

Once she's in her small flat, she rushes to the shower after throwing her clothes in the washer. She stays at least an hour under the water, her mind playing the past events over and over until she's upset again. When she steps out of the shower, she’s starving. So she grabs the first thing she finds in her fridge, which happens to be the leftovers of her lunch from two days ago. She tries to remain distracted, turning on the TV and starting an episode of Game of Thrones, her best friend Rebecca has been harassing for a month to start watching the show. And for a brief hour, she’s captivated by the Battle of Bastards, and by how good looking Kit Harrington is in armor.

The rest of the day is uneventful and when Rebecca visits her later in the afternoon Victoria hesitates to talk to her about her accident. But she’s pretty sure she’d simply think her completely crazy.

“Are you alright, Vicky?” Rebecca eventually asks when she hands her a cup of tea.

Victoria smiles kindly. “Yes.” She’s not used to lying to her best friend. They have known each other since middle school and she could count the number of times she lied to her on one hand, one being for her surprise birthday for her 18th birthday. “Why are you asking?”

She sits next to her friend on the couch, bringing her own cup of tea to her lips to blow on it. “I don’t know you’re very silent. And you said you weren’t feeling good this morning.”

“Oh… Well it was nothing, just felt nauseous.”

Rebecca narrows her dark eyes but doesn't push further. “How were your parents?” She asks, changing the subject, much to Vicky's pleasure.

“They were fine.” She takes a long sip of her tea. “They wondered if you'd like to come for dinner one day.”

Rebecca grins, her parents have always been pretty fond of her, even proposing her to join family events. It never bothered Victoria who was happy to have a friend with her. “Of course, I'll come. I just need a date.”

“I'll text you.”

Rebecca leaves after dinner and as soon as the door is closed Vicky falls into her bed, exhausted. She doesn't have time to overthink as usually when she tries to find sleep, she finds Morpheus' arms the moment she closes her eyes. But her sleep is far from being peaceful, her dreams bringing her sometime in the Middle Age, judging by the clothes of the men surrounding her. She's in the middle of a fight opposing warriors with long hair and tattooed faces and others with more modest appearance, only a fire alighting the area. She looks around her, trying to understand the scene, but her vision is almost constantly brought back to one of the warriors. It's a tall man, wearing leather armor above a greenish tunic, with dark hair and beard. He is using his sword with such ability, his movements swift and precise, Vicky can't help but be impressed. From the corner of her eyes she can see men falling and how trees seem to delimit a clearing. She looks up to the sky and can see the stars shining in the sky, never before she has seen them so clearly. Then, a sound catches her attention and she's staring at the warrior again. He is not fighting anymore, frozen and his face twisting into a grimace. She looks down to his abdomen in sync with him and she gasps as she sees the sword coming out of his belly. And it's like she can feel all his pain as the sword leaves his body, her guts tearing apart. The man coughs blood, falling on his knees, his hands pressed on the gaping hole in his abdomen. He finishes his fall, head first in the mud and Victoria can feel the life leaving his body as the man takes his last breaths, his brown eyes looking into the void.

Victoria wakes up abruptly, sweating and panting. She presses a hand on her chest, desperately trying to calm her breath. Once she's calmed she pours herself a cup of water, still haunted by the sensation of her dream or maybe nightmare. She doesn't find sleep after that, so she just lies on her couch, watching TV, until morning comes and the hour she has to leave for work.

It's only the first night of a dozen as sleepless. Most of the time, she finds herself in the Middle Age, in various places, some faces regularly appearing. Sometimes she's in other periods, even in modern days. But the common point to all her dreams is this man. Each time she can see him more clearly, his thick hair is most of the time cut short around his ears, a scar slashing his forehead while two small others are ornamenting his left cheekbone. One day, she decides to draw him, she spends the afternoon on it, but she's determined to make it as realistic as possible. As the lines darken the paper, she realizes how the man reminds her of someone. She sends the drawing to Rebecca without much explanation and she immediately replies to her that he reminds her of the guy from the conspiracy theory video they watched one late night.

Victoria takes the time to search the video in her browser history, and indeed, Rebecca was right. The man is the spitting portrait of the one called the “time traveler”. She watches the video with probably much more interest than the first time, desperate to understand why he is haunting her nights. That's clearly the least credible story she has ever heard: a man, the same man, captured in pictures at different places and at different periods of time. A guy talented with photoshop could perfectly create this whole theory. She sighs, closing her laptop and just comes to the conclusion that her brain registered the man's face when she watched the video with Rebecca and simply has a fixation on it since.

Curious to know the origins of the other faces she can see in her dreams, she draws them as well and she finds herself with three other men. The younger looking is blond with a bowl cut, a long face and an endearing smile. The two others look much more like warriors, one has long hair tied and shaved on the sides, his eyes a piercing blue, the other has different colour eyes and a tattoo covering the side of his neck. Once again, she sends her drawings to Rebecca but this time she has no idea of where she could have seen them.

Days pass, the dreams don't fade but Victoria forgets about her accident and all the strange things that happened, until the police call her. Obviously, her car had to be found as she didn't call anyone to take care of it, she just wanted to forget what happened. She tries to give the best explanation to the police, telling them she's alright and shock made her forget to deal with her broken vehicle. After an hour on the phone they finally let her alone, adding that if she wanted to file a complaint there would probably not be a lot of results. She just replies that she will think of it, when in fact she won't at all.

As things couldn’t get weirder, one afternoon she meets an odd customer at the bookshop she’s been working for years now. She doesn’t notice him particularly, until she feels like he is staring at her behind his sunglasses. She tries to ignore him, but can’t resist staring back. He is wearing a grey sweatshirt, the hood covering his hair, but at the color of his beard she guesses it’s as dark. There’s something familiar to him and decided to understand what his problem with her is, she fully turns to face him.

“Can I help you?”

The man seems to freeze, his hands sinking in the pockets of his trousers. He lowers his head and reads the badge with Victoria’s name on her jacket. He looks back to her and this time she raises an eyebrow, her arms crossing over her chest.

“No that’s alright.” He mutters with an accent she doesn’t get in the moment. “Sorry for botherin’ ya.”

He steps back and leaves the bookshop without another word. She doesn’t move for a moment, frowning and still staring at the shop’s door. She has dealt with a thousand customers in five years of working here, sometimes extremely weird, even more than this one, however it’s him who remains stuck in her head even a few days after his visit.

But the culmination of this month filled by weird events happens a week after the man came to the bookshop. It’s a friday, and as usual, Vicky has her free afternoon and spends it at her flat, watching the last episode of Game of Thrones while drawing. But she’s interrupted by a knock on her door. She frowns, pretty sure she expected no one to come today. The person knocks again and she gets up from her desk chair. She unlocks the door, opens it, and before she can even say “hello”, she gasps in surprise at the sight of the man standing in front of her.

Victoria has no doubts. It’s the man from her dreams or the one theorists call the “time traveler”, standing in the corridor of her floor with a tight, uncomfortable.

A/N : A first chapter full of misteries ahah ! Don’t hesitate to comment, express your ideas regarding what could happen or whatever could happen, I’m really curious to know ahah! See you next week for some answers ;)

Tags : @maggiescarborough @geekandbooknerd @obipoelover @finansarms ; Don’t hesitate to tell me if you want to be add to the tag list of the fic!

#finan the agile #finan #Finan x OC #finan the last kingdom #The Last Kingdom #fanfiction #somebody to die for

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